Page 98 of Ethan & Grace

I glanced at Ethan and saw in his eyes that we were thinking the same thing: It was suspicious. Asterdam might have wanted to get rid of the car involved in the crash, just as he did with the rest of the evidence. My limbs tingled with adrenaline, and I had an overwhelming urge to leap up and confront Asterdam for murdering my sister right there and then—but that wasn’t possible. A sold car wasn’t enough proof, even if it felt like it to me.

“I’ve emailed you a full breakdown of all the vehicles registered to your targets,” Edgar continued. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“No, thanks. That’s all for now.”

“You’re welcome. Get in touch if you need anything.”

“I will,” Ethan replied, ending the call.

Silence settled over the room, but our thoughts were so loud I could practically hear them. After all these weeks of not knowing, it felt unreal to finally be one step closer.

“Claude Asterdam,” I murmured.

“Claude Asterdam,” Ethan echoed.

I could see the conflict in Ethan’s eyes. The fact that his own father had helped cover up my sister’s murder hadn’t shaken him in the slightest. But the fear that this revelation might harm his friendship with James was written all over his face. As relieved as I was to finally have a name, I hated that, out of all the suspects, it had to be him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

Ethan shrugged and set his phone, which he’d been gripping tightly, down on the bedside table. “I’d been hoping it wasn’t Claude. He and James don’t always see eye to eye, but I thought he was generally one of the good ones. Or at least one of the better ones.”

I gave him a sad smile. “If you’d rather stay out of the investigation from now on, I completely understand. After all, James is your best friend, and I don’t want—”

“I’m not backing out,” Ethan cut in. He let out a long breath. “I wish it were someone else, but if Claude is responsible for Amy’s death, then James and Olivia will understand why I have to help you.”

I hoped so—I didn’t want him to lose an old friendship because of me. But there was no denying that the sold Rolls-Royce would be one hell of a coincidence if Claude wasn’t involved. My thoughts drifted to the two threatening letters I’d received, one of which was tucked inside my handbag. Now would have been the perfect moment to tell Ethan about them, but something stopped me—the hope that this might all be over soon. We were on the verge of cracking the case, and I was afraid that Ethan might stop me mere metres from the finishing line if he found out about the letters. And I couldn’t let Amy’s killer win. That bastard had to be punished for what he’d done to my sister—no matter who he was and what he meant to Ethan.

“What do we do now?” I asked instead. Although I wasn’t lying to Ethan, holding something back still felt wrong. But keeping this from him was the right thing to do—he had enough on his plate as it was. He shouldn’t have to worry about me too. Besides, I could look after myself.

“We’re going to investigate Claude.”

“Any idea how we’re going to do that, Sherlock?”

“Indeed, Watson. If there are any leads about Amy’s crash, including the missing evidence, we’ll find them at Claude’s place.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want to break in?”

“It’s hardly breaking and entering if the door is open,” he replied. The very words I’d said when he’d caught me outside Rakesh’s office. “His wife, Natalia, is throwing a party for her fifty-fifth birthday at the end of the month, in their villa. It’s the perfect opportunity to take a look around. Claude will be distracted by the guests. I’ll get us an invitation.”

It really was a good idea, but all I heard was the word us. Ethan and I—together at this party?

“You want me to come with you?”

“Of course. This is about Amy, after all. And besides, there’s no one I’d rather go to an incredibly dull party with than you.”

“But that makes things between us pretty official,” I pointed out. His friends would see us together. His family too, probably. Not to mention all those high-society snobs.

“Are you scared?”

“No,” I replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. I still vividly remembered the public’s reaction to finding out about Henry and Kate. People had gossiped incessantly, with the loudest and most critical voice belonging to Ethan’s mother. “But are you sure this is what you want? If we show up there together, there’s no turning back.”

Ethan brushed a strand of hair from my face and let his hand rest against my cheek. His next words were soft. “I don’t want to go back, Dreamgirl. Not without you.”

“I don’t want to go back either,” I admitted. Even if I did, it was far too late. Ethan had claimed a place in my heart, and it was his forever.

I leant in and touched my lips against his, putting everything I had into the kiss. All my feelings for Ethan, which ran deeper than I’d ever imagined they could. There was only one thing I couldn’t give him: the truth about the letters. But that weight on my shoulders would lift when we exposed Claude Asterdam. Which would hopefully be very soon.

“Do you have a dress for Claude’s party?” Ethan asked a while later.