When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,46

enough, he located a release button with no lock for easy access. Most likely, they kept a gun inside the compartment for an emergency. Sure enough, there was a gun, but the big revelation was an unexpected pile of letters. There must’ve been close to sixty of them, all to Kinsley, and all marked ‘Return to Sender.’

Nick had been trying to reach her. What a screwed up contradiction that was. He must’ve written to her nearly every day. He stood and dropped to one knee, taking a look under the bed. Something on Kinsley’s side caught his attention. A thick photo album. He retrieved the album and sat on the edge of the bed. It was locked. Seemed a little odd, but all couples had their playtime. He sighed and slid it back under the bed. After surveying the room one more time, he got up to leave and headed toward the study.

The study, jam-packed with law and writing books, held his interest. He examined the degrees hanging on the wall. Pinned onto the bulletin board were a few rejection letters from publishers and one asking her to make revisions and resubmit a book entitled, Broken. He was able to learn a lot about her in the study. She collected strange pens, cluttered her desk with artsy knickknacks, and posted inspirational quotes on the wall in front of her desk. She also kept a pair of fluffy, pink, elephant slippers tucked under the chair. But he found nothing related to the case that gave any indication of why she left.

As he headed down the back staircase, he heard a door creak open. Pressed against the wall, he slipped around the corner. Whoever it was might be on the way to the kitchen, so he ran defense and turned back toward the bathroom.

Nick was coming from the master bedroom, walking with his head down. He startled when he looked up and saw him. “Jackson.”

“I had to run down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, no, you didn’t. Nick lifted his hand displaying a condom, confirming Jackson hadn’t been the disturbance. “Well, I’m going back to bed. If you need anything, help yourself.” He headed toward the guest room.

Jackson couldn’t resist and asked as he pointed to the master bedroom, “Isn’t that your room?”

Nick hesitated and glanced in the direction of his and Kinsley’s bedroom. With as close to a sincere loving thought of Kinsley as Jackson had heard from him so far, he said, “I don’t bring other women into our bedroom.”

Jackson sighed, supposing that that was at least one redeeming quality.

The next morning, they all had coffee, saying how glad they were they had gotten together, and that they hoped they’d see each other again. And like the night before, it was awkward for him.

Once he and Olivia were in the car, she turned to him. “We have to swing by Xavier’s office before we pick up our things at the hotel and tell him what went on last night.”

“When’s our flight?”

“One.”

“Damn, Olivia, could you have slept any longer?”

Jackson and Olivia arrived at Xavier’s office with little time to spare for the meeting if they were going to make their flight. They waited impatiently for a few minutes before they were finally taken in to his office.

“Mr. Wentworth can meet with you now. Would you like me to bring in some coffee?” the receptionist asked.

Both he and Olivia shook their heads no. They thanked her for asking, and she led them into Xavier’s office. The room was large, contemporary, and functional. All business. Xavier came from behind his desk and motioned them toward the sofa and chairs, which provided a comfortable conversation area.

“Good morning, have a seat.”

They sat, and he joined them.

He addressed Jackson. “So, how did things go last night?”

“The evening went well. We ended up staying the night. I was able to look around and talk to Nick.”

“Good. What did he have to say?”

“He said he still loves her and wants her back. But the way he talked, love isn’t what he feels for her.” He looked at Xavier and shrugged. “My opinion.” He also said she had to come back on his terms, or he didn't think things would work out.”

Xavier frowned. “I’m sure he did.”

“The best insight I got was in his bedside table. There must’ve been sixty letters marked ‘Return to Sender,’ and all addressed to Kinsley. However, when I talked to her she told me