The day after Valentine’s Day, I hopped on a plane.

I had the next week off—our monthly rotation allowed each of us to take a week off every four weeks and like I’d been counting down the days, I just decided to take off.

I had no conscious plan of really going anywhere, but I’d been sitting at my computer, staring at my email, waiting for a communication that just wasn’t coming and I thought…

Fuck it.

If she wasn’t coming to me, then I’d go to her.

I’d bought the ticket five minutes later, was packed less than fifteen minutes after that, then I did little more than sit and stare out the window as the sun set over the strip.

I wasn’t really…thinking.

I felt like I was waiting, trapped in some odd state of hyperawareness where time ticked away too fast and not fast enough. There wasn’t enough room inside me to describe what I was feeling and if I could’ve sped time up so I was already on the plane, hurtling toward Thea—and answers—then I’d have done so.

But every trick I knew, every bit of showmanship I possessed, that’s all it was…tricks, smoke and mirrors.

So I waited.

Somewhere near dawn, I dozed off and slept for maybe two hours. When I woke, it was with enough time to shower, grab some breakfast, then I had to leave.

I didn’t bother calling Sly or Mac.

I sent a quick text off once I reached the airport, knowing neither of them was likely to be awake yet. Sly was probably still buried in puddles of woman flesh and Mac would be buried in darkness, pretending the world didn’t exist.

That was fine. They wouldn’t be expecting me to show up for rehearsals or anything until Saturday and for now, my time was mine. Knowing them—especially Mac—I’d let them know I was okay just so they wouldn’t worry about me, then I’d cut myself off from the world for a little while so I could take care of the things I needed to take care of.

Thea.

I’m coming, pretty lady. I hope you’re ready.

* * *

Speeding down the backcountry road that led to the house a few miles outside of St. Gabriel, I throttled back on the anticipation filling every inch of me. I had no idea where I was going to find Thea.

I’d tried calling her cellphone the day I found out Melody was gone, but the number belonged to someone else now.

I’d tried calling the boutique she used to work at, but I hadn’t had any luck there either.

If I could, I would’ve reached out to Naomi, but again, the number had changed.

Did anyone keep their cell phone numbers longer than a minute anymore?

I’d almost contacted Mom and Dad to see if they had any idea how to reach her, but in the end, I’d decided against that. They’d asked what had happened between Thea and me, and I’d told them I didn’t want to talk about it. Until there was a resolution, I wanted to keep it that way.

If I didn’t have any other luck tracking her, I’d reach out to Dad, but not yet.

My heart thundered up into the area near my ears as I rounded the final curve.

My brain processed something was off but it took a few moments for the message to sink in.

It took a little bit longer for the message on the sign on the front lawn near the mailbox.

FOR SALE

Dragging my eyes away from it, I told myself the house wouldn’t be empty.

I didn’t know where else to fucking look for her.

Dee had told me she’d moved out of the apartment where she’d been living in town. I knew exactly where she’d been living while her mother got sicker and sicker. I knew that she’d been going to the family home every day to be with Melody and although nobody had outright said it, it was common knowledge that Melody had chased away pretty much every nurse hired to take care of her.

Her daughter had been brought in for the task.

I knew the name of the facility where Melody had put Nicky not just once, but three times.

What I didn’t know was where in the hell I was supposed to find Thea.

I knew where I wouldn’t find her.

This house.

As I drove the rental car closer, I stared at the vacant eyes of the windows, peering back at me impassively from the stone façade of the house. It was empty.

I didn’t have to get out of the car and go knock to know that.

I would, but I’d be wasting my time.

Thea wasn’t here.

* * *

“Nobody has seen her since a few days after the funeral,” Braxton Vanderbilt said. He swirled scotch in his glass and watched me as he spoke. He hadn’t been at all surprised when I walked into his office, which meant he’d been waiting for me to show up.

I guess my dad knew me better than I thought.

“Who was it that saw her last?”

He shrugged. “As far as I know, it was the preacher who performed the ceremony, John Wilson from United Presbyterian.” Finally taking a sip of the scotch, Dad tipped his head back and studied the ceiling for a long moment before looking back at me. “Since you’re here, I’m going to assume she hasn’t called you. I would’ve thought the two of you kept in touch.”

I snorted. There was no point in keeping it quiet anymore. Getting up from my chair, I paced over to the window. “I haven’t talked to Thea in years, Dad. You remember when her mother put Nicky in a home that first time?”

I shot him a glance just in time to see him nod.

“That was the warning volley. She told Thea that if she ever talked to me again, she’d keep Nicky in that facility and Thea wouldn’t even be allowed to see him.”

My father’s face bore some hint of surprise, but there was no outright shock. Why?

Why wasn’t he surprised?

I had still been surprised by it—some part of me was still shocked by the antipathy that woman had carried inside her.

But my father wasn’t.

“I’m going to assume Thea chose to protect Nicky over your relationship,” he said eventually.

“What was she supposed to do?” I said with a scowl. “You’ve met Nicky. He’s the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet, and he’s…”

“All but defenseless—or he was defenseless against his mother. At the time, I imagine Thea felt rather defenseless, too. Still in school, struggling to find her own feet, her own voice.”

“Why does it sound like you’re blaming her?” I demanded.

“Does it?” He shrugged. “I can’t say that I am…at least not in such simple terms. But…Melody Kent is dead and Thea Kent is far from helpless or defenseless these days.” He swirled his scotch once more, then took a sip. “And she hasn’t reached out to you in all the time since her mother died.”

There was a reason, I told myself.

There had to be.

But I was running out of ideas as to what that might be.