I’ve been working with Keene on a case out of the new Hudson Investigations office in Norwalk, Connecticut. The corporate espionage case I’ve been working on has been challenging without my having to get shot for the adrenaline high. Earlier during a meeting in the boardroom, I said as much to Keene. He replied dryly, “Not yet, at least. It’s still in the early days.”

I don’t know if he was kidding or being serious. It’s hard to tell with his damned arrogant smirk. How Ali puts up with his ass day after day, I have no idea.

Kicking away from reading a report requiring my signature, I watch through the one-way glass overlooking the floor of analysts, seemingly pulling data out of thin air to be referenced, cross-referenced, and tagged. Suddenly, a cry goes up from one side of the room and I, along with half the floor, snap to attention. Someone just made a breakthrough on something. Hooah!

What has to be the most enjoyable aspect of my new job is the camaraderie. Even though I was hired at a higher position than the analysts sifting through lines of data on their screens, I won’t permit myself to do less than an exceptional job here. Letting them down is not an option. The environment Caleb and Keene have cultivated is more than just a team, and I’m proud to take part as a member of a new unit. It’s being part of something far bigger than yourself when anything can happen, and successes are celebrated together.

Suddenly, my door flies open after a brief knock. Keene and Charlie Henderson, who heads up Missing Persons and Protective Services at the firm, come flying in. Charlie’s face is wreathed in a smile, and Keene’s is filled with fierce satisfaction.

“We found Charlotte Collins.” Keene’s face explodes with a grin. “Alive.”

“And unharmed,” Charlie adds. I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile gets bigger.

“You’re shitting me.” The prominent Greenwich residents had come to Hudson last week begging for help when the police and FBI were unable to find their seven-year-old kidnapped daughter. The desperate couple offered to give anything, pay anything, to get their little girl back.

“Not at all.” Keene and Charlie drop into the chairs in front of my desk. “The analyst who took the tip just called in. He delivered her safely to Greenwich Hospital and plans on standing guard until the doctors check her out. Charlie has already called the parents.”

“I love making those calls,” Charlie mutters.

I don’t doubt it. I shoot a quick grin his way before asking Keene, “Who called the cops?”

Now the arrogance reappears. I start laughing. “Enjoyed it, did you?”

“Bet your goddamned ass I did. When I think it could have been any of our girls all over again?” He and Charlie share a look, and I’m quickly reminded with a glance why the Collinses’ will never see a bill for the services rendered by Hudson.

The scars left behind by what happened to each of the Freemans, one of whom happens to be Keene’s sister and the other the mother of his child, are vivid reminders of why Caleb and Keene established and maintain the Missing Persons division of this company.

“Anyway. The team is celebrating tonight, so don’t be surprised to get a bill,” Keene reminds me only to be interrupted by Charlie.

“A large bill,” Charlie adds, grinning.

Keene nods, still smiling. “A large bill,” he confirms. “Randomly dropped on your desk tomorrow. We cover all the expenses for the team: dinner, drinks, transpo home if they need it. Charlie and I won’t be there because of Ali’s birthday, but you’re welcome to go with them.”

I glare at Keene now. “You know damned well I’m not missing Ali’s birthday, you ass.”

Keene’s face is full of disgust. “At least assure me you’ve picked out a different sibling to fixate on tonight. I know she’s the birthday girl, but for fuck’s sake, Hunt, she is very much off the market.”

I sit back in my chair. “I don’t see you slapping a ring on that.” I know damned well it’s Keene for Ali, and I could not be more thrilled for her. I just can’t stop giving him a ration of shit so hard, he’ll be constipated for days.

Charlie chokes with laughter. “Jesus, Keene. The fuckin’ new guy’s calling you out now.”

Keene narrows his eyes at Charlie. “I have my plan, thank you very much.”

I can’t hold back. “When? After Kalie’s high school graduation?” Kalie is Keene and Ali’s six-month-old daughter.

Giving me the finger, Keene stands. “Just for that, I’m not passing along Caleb’s instructions to bounce early and come to the mansion for lunch.” He pauses before leaving the office. Turning back, he says, “Feels pretty amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like shooting an HK MP5 for the first time.”

I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. “Finding Charlotte Collins supersedes that feeling, brother.”

Quirking up the side of his mouth, he says, “Right answer,” before leaving my office.

Charlie pushes himself up next. “Caleb is ordering Genoa. If you want to head to Amaryllis for lunch and to knock out early, better call him with your order.”

I’m surprised. “I thought Keene…”

Charlie snorts. “Please. That boy knows who he takes his orders from.”

Nodding, I say with complete seriousness, “Ali.”

Charlie winks. “You’re learning, Colby.” He turns and ambles to the door. Before he makes it all the way out, I stop him.

“Charlie.” He turns around. “We celebrate the successes. What do we do about the ones…” My voice trails off.

His eyes darken. He swallows convulsively. Shit. “I don’t know about the others, Colby, but I pray. A lot. For their families. For their souls. For peace. And then I go spend time with some of the people I’ve saved.”

I’m confused. “People from previous investigations?”

He shakes his head. “No, the family. Phil, Cass, Em, Ali, Corinna, and Holly. And then I realize for the ones we do save, they can make a future, a family, and have a tomorrow even if their today seems pretty fucking bleak.” He takes a breath. “Call Caleb. Otherwise, you’ll be fighting Phil for pizza.”

I take a moment to absorb what he said before I almost blindly call Caleb.

As I swing my Jeep into the parking lot of Amaryllis Events an hour later, Caleb’s Porsche pulls in right behind me. I jump out and make my way over to him. “Need any help?” I call out.

“That’s an understatement.” He walks around the back of his Cayman and opens the trunk to reveal enough food to feed a platoon. Or a pack of hungry Freemans.

“Jesus, is someone pregnant again?” I mutter as I take the boxes of pizza he shoves at me.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Pausing, he says, “Not that we’d mind. But on top of our normal lunch order, Cori asked for me to pick up some food she needs for a lunch she’s having tomorrow with her friend.”

“Oh?” I ask blandly. “Who is it?”

Caleb carefully balances the large box he lifted. Inside the box is a plastic sack filled with sliced deli meat and cheese. Closing the trunk, he replies, “I don’t know. She never said.” Redistributing the weight between both arms, he juggles the one with the deli meat. “I was just asked if I could do her a favor since she’s so busy.”

I shake my head. I wonder if she didn’t mention who it was because it’s some guy she’s banging.

Caleb, not one to miss much, asks, “What’s the issue between you two anyway?”

I try for plausible deniability. “What issue?”

Caleb barks out a laugh. “Just to let you know, evade and diversion tactics don’t work well in this family. I’m not so sure they ever did.”

I snort. “There’s nothing to evade.” Even though I might wish otherwise.

“Right, Colby. Then why did you suddenly get all bothered when I said a friend was coming to see Corinna?” Instead of heading toward the covered front porch and the stained-glass door, Caleb makes his way toward the back of the converted mansion.

Directly toward the door leading into Corinna’s kitchen.

“I’m not bothered. I’m…surprised. Everyone always says how busy Corinna is. I’m just shocked she’s taking off in the middle of a workday to see a friend.” I throw that lame-ass excuse out just as the back door opens.

And of course, Corinna hears me.

“You’re an ass, Colby. You know that? I set my own hours. All that matters are that the cakes are made. Oh, and just for the record? I’m coming in early to make up the hours I’m away,” Corinna snaps. Her eyes, which can turn gold with joy or brown when she’s furious, are currently a rich shade of chocolate.

Shit.

“Caleb, you know where everything goes.” Corinna nods to an available worktable along the wall.

“Where do you want your stuff, Cori?” Caleb places his box on the table, then holds up the white bag he was also carrying.

Cori picks up her piping bag and begins swirling frosting on a cupcake so fast, my eyes cross.

Moving to the next one, she tips her head to the large stainless-steel door behind me. “Any particular shelf?” Caleb calls out.

“Where the juices are is fine. Nowhere near any of the cakes,” Cori calls out. Her hands haven’t stopped. She’s decorating cupcake after cupcake with what looks like… I reach my hand over to the bowl to get a sample.

My hand is sharply slapped. I look up in surprise. “Get your hands out of my frosting.” Her voice is as cold as the air blasting us from the refrigerator.

“I just wanted to see if that was orange frosting,” I protest. “You never minded before.”

Her jaw clenches. “Before, these cupcakes were going to a bunch of drunk boys who didn’t give two flying fucks about anybody or anything, especially the person who was baking them.” My blood boils at that comment. Corinna’s rewriting our past to suit her. “Now, they’re going to clients who pay good money for them, or they’re going to kids who need them as a pick-me-up. And even this batch for my family’s lunch still doesn’t need hands in them first. Even Phil knows better than to touch anything in this kitchen without permission.”

“Maybe you do need time off tomorrow if this is your attitude right now,” I tell her pointedly.

The sharp inhale through her nostrils is the only indication she heard me. Her hands keep flying from cupcake to cupcake until all twenty-four are decorated. Pushing away from the counter, she shoves the remainder of the icing in my direction. I don’t know if she’s offering it to me or aiming. “I’m done.” Turning to Caleb, who has been leaning against the wall, she says, “I have to clean up before everyone comes down.”

He walks up to her, touches her shoulder, and asks oddly, “Did you drink the juice, or did you make frosting out of it?”

Barking out a harsh laugh, Corinna breaks away from Caleb before reaching for a mason jar filled mostly with orange juice from under the table where the bowl of icing still sits. “I drank what I told you I’d drink, Caleb. I got inspired, so I used the rest of the bottle.”

“As long as you’re fine, Cori.” His face is gentle, as something unspoken passes between them.

“I just need a shower and to clean up my kitchen from the crap that just got dropped in it before everyone comes down for lunch. I’ll be back in a few.” Walking past me without a glance, she leaves the immaculate kitchen, and my callous words, behind.

Rubbing my hand over my forehead, I catch Caleb’s thoughtful look. “What?” I demand.

“No issue between the two of you, huh?” he says blandly.

No, there’s no issue because I have no idea what happened to the beautiful girl I knew. What made her turn so hostile toward me from one moment to the next?

There’s a breach, a chasm, a canyon that I can’t get across to build a bridge back to what we were.