Page 127 of Scandal
“What is it?”
“A gardener just discovered Mercury’s phone outside.”
“Okay,” I reply, unsure why he sounds so panicked. “Perhaps she dropped it on a walk? That would explain why I haven’t heard from her.”
“The screen is cracked, like someone stepped on it.”
“Call Evie?—”
“I already did,” he says before he takes a slight pause. “The last time she saw her, she was headed to your suite to rest before tea.”
“I’ll go there right now.” I pick up my pace. “I’m already headed that way.”
“Ash,” he says, his tone making my throat tighten. I don’t think he’s ever addressed me so informally. I’ve always tried to persuade him to, but he never does. Not until now. My heart begins to race.
“What are you not telling me?”
“She’s not there, Ash. We’ve already looked. We’ve looked everywhere, and we can’t find her.”
Five minutes later, I’m in the security office demanding answers.
“How did this happen?”
Lewis’s team has already done a sweep through the whole house and is currently searching the estate grounds, but we’re almost certain we won’t find her there.
Why?
Because of the security footage they just showed me of her following a security guard through the foyer and out the double doors outside.
The same security guard who exited through the front gate just thirty minutes ago.
“It was the end of his shift, my lord,” Lewis explains. “No one thought anything was out of the ordinary.”
I’m trying to keep my rage in check. “But why wasn’t his car searched?” Why wasn’t he searched?
“We only check the cars coming in,” he swallows nervously. “Not the ones going out. And no one would suspect a security guard to?—”
“Fuck. Fuck!” I shout, feeling helpless. She’s out there somewhere, and I don’t know who has her. Or where.
“Where are we with Meg?”
Lewis just shakes his head. “Dead end. She has an alibi.”
“An alibi for a text message?”
He nods. “Up until two weeks ago, she was in rehab.”
I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. I don’t even ask what kind. I don’t care because one thing I remember from Evans being in rehab is—“They take your phone and make you turn in all belongings at check-in, which means she couldn’t text on her own device, let alone a burner like the kidnapper has been using.”
Kidnapper. I feel sick.
He looks solemn. “Correct.”
“And I doubt she’s taken any last-minute trips to Scotland since then?”
“No, my lord.”
I stare at the wall of security screens, concentrating on the one that’s frozen on Mercury’s back. Her posture is relaxed, and she doesn’t appear scared or threatened. Whoever he is must have tricked her into going out there.
