“Hey, slow down.” Mint pointed at something in the road ahead.

“What the hell?”

A man walked down the road, his shoulders bunched against the cold. He turned left into a winding drive.

“Is this the house?” I pulled into the mouth of the driveway, my headlights illuminating the man.

Mint checked the GPS on his phone. “Yeah, I think so.”

The man walked through the gate, which began to swing shut behind him.

“Shit.” I jumped out of the car. “Hey!”

He kept walking.

I took a chance. “Sebastian, is that you?”

He slowed and stopped as the gate clanged shut, but didn’t turn around. “What are you doing out here?”

Mint walked to the gate and clutched the bars. “We’re looking for Camille Briarlane. Have you seen her?”

“Why would I have seen her?” He turned, though the headlights only illuminated up to his chest. His face remained steeped in shadow.

“Because you visited her at school.” I stepped to the gate at Mint’s elbow. “Because you invested in a greenhouse there.”

“I did. That still doesn’t explain why you think I’ve seen her.”

His snide tone ate through me like acid. “Are you fucking her?”

“Am I fucking your girlfriend?” His laughter chilled me more than the icy air. “You came all the way out here on Christmas Eve to ask me if I’ve been fucking your girlfriend?”

“Answer me, you son of a bitch!” I tried to shake the gate, but it didn’t move.

His laughter ended abruptly. “If you’d like to keep your job, I would suggest you change your tone.”

Fuck. This was not how I planned on this going. I figured we’d stop by, say we were in the neighborhood, and Sebastian would let us in for a few moments despite the blatant lie. This was a clusterfuck.

“Hey, asshole. I don’t work for you.” Mint banged on the bars. “You have her in there, don’t you?”

“I most certainly do not. In fact, if I recall correctly, she informed me she was going to visit the rainforest over Christmas break. Have you tried there?”

“She’s not in Brazil. She’s in your goddamn house!” Mint’s yell ripped through the quiet.

The kid had balls, I had to give him that.

“I think if you investigate elsewhere, you’ll find you’re mistaken.” Sebastian turned on his heel and walked away.

“Let me in!” Mint kicked the gate. “You’ve got her. I know you do!”

“Mint.” I put a hand on his shoulder as Sebastian disappeared up the dark drive. “We’re not getting anywhere tonight.” The threat of losing my job seemed to knock some sense into me. The blonde at the restaurant couldn’t have been Camille. I’d let Mint drag me into his paranoia, and here I was, standing at the gate to my boss’s house while a teenager yelled threats at him.

“No, I know she’s in there.”

“Let’s go. We’ll—”

My cell phone chirped and vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out and stared at the screen. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“She came back from her trip early. She’s back at her place. Says she’ll see me tomorrow night.”

“No way.” Mint snatched my phone and stared at it. “This doesn’t prove anything. He could have, I don’t know, sent a text right then from her phone to throw us off the scent.”

“I don’t know man.” I stuffed the phone into my pocket right as Mint’s notification sounded.

He pulled it out and read the message.

“Let me see.” I held my hand out.

“No.” He pocketed it. “It’s private. Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s her. The real her. I can tell.”

“What the fuck, man?” I hustled back to the car as the wind picked up.

We both got in and defrosted for a moment before I turned back on the road and headed south.

“I don’t care that she texted. There’s something wrong with that guy.” He held his hands in front of the vent.

“Maybe there is, but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore. She’s home. He doesn’t have her chained in his basement. I ought to kick your ass for leading me on this wild goose chase.”

“He could have let her go or something.”

“Mint.” I banged my palm on the steering wheel. “She’s been in fucking Brazil. Not in upstate New York. Sebastian is a dick, but that’s about all. He’s not a psycho killer or a kidnapper. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re the ones who look crazy right now.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, so why was he out on the street at night in the cold?”

“Why the fuck does it matter?” I wanted to bitch-slap him, though I opted against it. He had at least twenty pounds on me.

“It’s bizarre.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I tried to use my calm grown-up voice. “He’s a weirdo. Camille is home. All is well. And another thing, I want you to stay away from her.”

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m beginning to think you’re obsessed with her or some shit. You’re never going to fuck her, okay? She’d never dick down with a student. So give it a rest.”

He fell into a stony silence, which was fine with me. I didn’t need any more of his bullshit clouding my judgment.

What had I been thinking? One thing was for certain, I’d never drink with a fucking teenager again unless it had tits and daddy issues.