Page 124 of Ethan & Grace

I stared after her in disbelief. I couldn’t believe that she, Charles, and Alistair were behind all of this. Grace and I had suspected the wrong people all along. But how could we have guessed that it was Charles who had caused the accident and that his father had covered it up? Alistair had done a thorough job of erasing any trace of Charles’s involvement.

My dad cleared his throat behind me. I ignored him. I didn’t care what he thought about the situation. Instead, I pulled out my phone and wrote Mr. Claymore a message, telling him and Mrs. Claymore to meet us at the police station so we could finally rescue Grace.

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Hi Lisa, I need your help.

My son has messed up. Call me as soon as you read this.

Message from Mr. Eddington to Detective Carter in December

Ethan

I followed the police convoy to the Eddington estate. The rising sun was still so low that I had to flip down the visor. My hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

After my mum had changed and fetched the USB stick, we’d driven to the police station to meet Grace’s parents. We’d handed the footage and the letters over to the investigators, leaving them no choice but to act. From that point on, things had happened fast—and yet it felt like an eternity. I would have loved to drive straight to Alistair myself, but Henry had stopped me, despite the fact that it frayed my nerves to wait.

I felt scared and hopeful in equal measure. This time, we definitely had the right person. But how was Grace? She’d been missing for around sixteen hours now, and a lot could happen in that time. I couldn’t stop the horrific images spooling through my mind. Grace trembling and crying with fear. Grace lying bleeding on the floor. Grace screaming in pain. Every single image fuelled my rage and contempt for Alistair. For that reason alone, it was a good thing the police were with me. Otherwise, I might have beaten the arsehole to death, even though I had sworn I’d never resort to violence again. But for him, I’d make an exception.

As we approached the Eddington estate, the police cars in front of me switched off their sirens, presumably to avoid announcing our arrival. The villa came into view, and we slowed to a stop at a locked iron gate. My heart was racing.

To distract myself, I glanced at my phone, which was dangerously low on battery, but there was still no new message from Mr. and Mrs. Claymore. They had followed the second police convoy to Charles’s flat, in case he was involved in the kidnapping as well as the accident. But my gut told me that Alistair was our man. Charles might be an arsehole, but the fact that he’d called his daddy after the accident to let him handle things showed how utterly clueless he was. I didn’t think he was capable of a kidnapping. Alistair, on the other hand, I did. He was a goddamn politician, after all, and they were all slippery as hell.

It took a few minutes before the police convoy started moving again, and we made our way up the long driveway to the villa. The moment the Bentley was parked, I was out of the car, ready to storm the house. A heavily armed police officer in a bulletproof vest and helmet blocked my way.

“I’m sorry, you can’t come in.”

“But . . .”

“One wrong move could compromise the operation. Stay back and let us handle it.”

I didn’t want to wait; I wanted to look for Grace, but arguing would only slow things down. I nodded and stayed by Henry’s car while a dozen police officers and two sniffer dogs stormed the politician’s villa. The raid would make for plenty of headlines over the coming weeks. Maybe it would even give my dad and The Darlington a brief respite. I hoped so, for Henry’s sake. But not for my dad’s. Maybe he wasn’t responsible for the missing footage, but that didn’t change the other horrific things he’d done.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The first thing I saw was a warning that I only had five percent battery remaining. I closed it and opened the message.

Mr. C:

They’ve arrested Charles.

Grace wasn’t with him.

They’re searching everything now.

We’re on our way.

I didn’t reply, reacting to the message with an emoji instead to let Mr. Claymore know I’d seen it. Then I put away my phone and turned my attention back to the villa. The morning calm had been shattered by loud shouts and heavy footsteps. A familiar face appeared in the doorway.

Sadly, it was Alistair, not Grace. He was in handcuffs and protesting loudly, trying to talk his way out of the arrest, letting the officers know that he was cabinet member Eddington and that they’d lose their jobs when the matter had been cleared up. But the officers showed him no mercy. They led him to a patrol car and shoved him into the back seat.

In that very moment, he noticed me. His expression darkened. I didn’t look away, instead staring him down with every ounce of hatred I felt for him.

The officer who had escorted Alistair out came over to me.

“Have you found Grace?” I asked before he could speak.

“Not yet. Eddington won’t talk and is insisting on his lawyer, but we’ll keep searching. And once he’s at the station, he’ll be questioned, of course.”

“Can I go in now?”