Anonymous(47)

The air leaves my lungs and I freeze. “How do you know?”

A frustrated sigh escapes his lips. “Come here and I’ll show you.” He waves me over and I look at the screen. The beeping blue dot is exactly Ellie’s location.

“What makes you think she’s there?” I ask, feigning indifference.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a professional, Jake. All I needed was Owen’s untraceable phone number to find them.” He taps at the blue dot. “There’s no such thing as untraceable. I can find anything.”

I scoff. “What about those two phone numbers I gave you? You haven’t been able to locate them yet, have you?”

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “Probably because I’ve been mourning my dead girlfriend. I was going to start my research after the funeral.”

“Why not do it now, if you’re so damn good? I don’t have to be at the airport for another couple of hours.”

He picks up his laptop and nods toward the house. “Lead the way, and I’ll get to work.”

I don’t really want him in my house, but I also want to keep my eye on him. He follows me inside and I point at the kitchen table. “Get to work then.”

Without wasting any time, he sits down and starts typing away. I pace back and forth behind him, curious as to how he can understand all the codes popping up on the screen.

“You used to fight MMA,” he says, still typing away.

Stopping mid-step, I stare at his back. “Did Ellie tell you that on one of your lunch dates?” I ask, my voice bland. I really don’t want to go down memory lane about the times they spent together. They used to eat lunch once a week together when we first started dating. At first, it didn’t bother me, but the closer I got to her, the more I didn’t like other men taking her out.

His fingers stall on the keys, then he pounds away again. “Actually, she did. She talked about you a lot. I watched a couple of your fights online. You were really good.”

“It was a hobby.”

He snorts. “Hobby? Yeah, right. You could’ve been one of the best, if you kept with it.”

Sighing, I sit down at the table beside him. “I know.”

His eyes meet mine. “Why’d you stop?”

Mine and Ellie’s wedding picture is across the room, hanging over the fireplace. Ellie’s mother had given our photo to an artist who painted a replica onto a large canvas. The picture reminds me that everything I’ve done, I’ve done for Ellie—for our future. “Ellie loves home,” I reply, looking at our portrait. “She also has her bakery. If I’d have pursued a professional career in fighting, I would’ve been traveling all over the country. I couldn’t ask her to put her life on hold to follow me around.”

“That’s very noble of you to give up something you loved.”

I shrug. “You do what you have to for the people you love. Besides, fighting is only a temporary job. I wanted to focus on my long-term career.”

There’s a stack of blueprints on the table; he points at them. “You an architect?”

Reaching over, I slide the papers toward us. “I am. These are for a new development out west.”

Still typing away, he sneaks a glance over at the prints. “After all this is over, I might hire you to design me a new place. I can’t live in that house anymore.”

“I will, if I haven’t killed you yet,” I add, knowing he can hear the truth in my words. Eyes trained on the computer screen, he moves closer and sucks in a breath. He shakes his head, staring at the screen in confusion. “What is it?”

“I . . . I found the phones,” he replies, turning the laptop toward me.

Pulse pounding, I focus on the screen. “Holy fuck.”





Twenty-Three





Ellie





“Watching the road isn’t going to make him get here any faster,” Owen says, laughing.

I’ve been staring out the window for the past hour. Jake’s flight has already landed, but there’s no telling how long it’s going to take for him to grab his luggage and find a taxi. Not to mention, we’re a good bit away from the airport.

“Does my potato soup look good?” I ask. It’s so cold outside, I thought it’d be good to have something warm for dinner.

Owen peeks into the crock pot and breathes it in. “Smells great.”

I spot a taxi down the road, slowly making their way to the house. Butterflies swim in my gut and I jump off the couch, straight for the door. As soon as it turns down the driveway, I rush outside with the biggest smile on my face. The taxi comes to a stop and Jake steps out, his eyes focused solely on me. I run to him, not caring if I slip and fall on the snow, jumping into his arms. Tears fall down my cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I cry.

He holds me tight and breathes me in. “I’ve missed you too.” The taxi driver grabs his bags out of the trunk and Jake gives him money before he leaves. Taking my face in his warm hands, Jake kisses me softly. “I’m just glad I’m here. There’s so much going on at home.”

“Like what?” Owen asks from behind.

Jake lets me go but keeps an arm around me. “Have you talked to the detective today?”