No in Between (Inside Out #4)(52)

Chris steps to me and brushes hair over my shoulder. “She’s only late a minute or two.”

“Yes, but—”

“She’s never late,” Ralph says. “Yesterday she was distracted by Ryan, and then left with him. Now she’s not here. I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

Jacob pushes through the door and motions to Chris, and he must read the instant concern in my face because he quickly holds up a hand and says, “Nothing new, and nothing to worry about. Blake’s brother, Royce, wants to talk to Chris.”

Chris squeezes my hand. “I need to take this. Royce has some FBI contacts with links to Paris. He’s using them to help find Ella.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank him.”

He motions to Ralph’s office and mouths, “Get him out of here.” I nod and he disappears into the gallery with Jacob.

I head to Ralph’s office, pausing in his doorway. “Did you try to call Amanda?”

“Not yet.” He laces his fingers on the desk, his orange bow tie practically glowing. “I sense something in the air. What do I need to know?”

“Mark’s going to have us work from home for the next few weeks. I’ll coordinate everything with you by phone.”

“Fine by me, but I can’t do that until I finish these reports for Mark.”

“How long will that take?”

“With Amanda’s help, all day. Without it, today and tomorrow.”

“You can’t finish at home?”

“Are you kidding me? The police made a mess of my files. I can’t find half of what I need. Moving things will only make it worse.”

“I really wanted you gone before the hearing is over today and the press invasion happens.”

“Unless Bossman wants me to forget these reports, I can’t. And since he called about them this morning, I’m assuming that isn’t the case.”

“He called? Did he say if he’ll be in?”

He snorts. “Like he tells me anything. He just wanted to know I was on the reports.”

As much as I understand Mark’s stress, I don’t understand how completely he’s ignored the gallery. “I’ll help,” I volunteer, sitting in his visitor’s chair. “Let me call Amanda, then you can show me what to do.”

“I’ll call,” he offers, punching a button on the phone and letting it ring on speaker. It goes directly to voice mail. Grimacing, he punches the End button. “Same as yesterday. I’m telling you, her obsession with Ryan has changed her. She’s ready to bow at his feet, if you know what I mean.”

I barely stop my eyes from going wide. Just what does Ralph know about Ryan, and even Mark? “Yes, I got that from her, too. She’s young, and he’s older and rich. It must have her in some sort of Cinderella fantasy.”

He smirks. “Fifty Shades of Prince Charming.”

My heart skips a beat. “What does that mean?”

“Well.” He leans forward and falls into one of his conspiratorial whispers. “She told me he’s all kinds of dominant, in that kinky kind of way.”

My lips part in shock. “She told you that?”

“Yes, but nothing more. I tried. Oh baby, I tried. He’s hot. I wanted details.”

My stomach churns. He’ll get more details than he wants once the press frenzy starts, and I’m suddenly glad Mark decided to shut the gallery. I motion to the files and change the subject. “Speaking of details, tell me what I need to do to help.”

An hour later we still haven’t been able to reach Amanda, and aside from popping his head in to check on me, Chris has spent most of his time with Jacob. Carrying my Ralph-assigned workload, I make my way to my office. Rounding the corner to my doorway, I flip on the light and then stop dead in my tracks, stunned.

It’s bare. Completely, utterly bare. No books. No rose-scented candle on the desk. Not even a computer on the desk, just a phone. I walk inside and turn to the wall, surprised to find the painting of the roses remains, but it’s sitting on the floor. I can only assume there was some insurance reason it had to stay. It bothers me that it’s been moved, to the point it’s like a grinding in my belly. It’s part of her. It’s part of them, of her and Mark. If it’s gone, what’s left? Without the journals, the painting is all I have of Rebecca.

Shaking off my emotions, I stack the files on top of the desk and set my purse in the drawer. As I claim my chair a low whistle draws my attention to the doorway, where my jeans-clad Fifty Shades of Prince Charming appears. “Talk about taking everything,” Chris comments, stepping inside and shutting the door.

“I’m surprised they left the furniture.”

“This isn’t a bad thing,” he points out, coming around to my side of the desk, and leaning against the edge beside me. “The more they know about Rebecca, the better chance they have of finding her.”

I can smell that earthy, freshly showered scent that is so Chris, and so not Rebecca. Her roses are gone. Like she is. “Why’d you shut the door?” I ask. “Did you get some news about the hearing?”

“There was a bomb threat at the courthouse. The hearing has been postponed until two.”

“Bomb threat?”

“David and Blake think it was Ava’s legal team. Blake’s trying to prove it, but he says her people are pretty smart about covering their tracks.”