Page 59 of Hidden With You

ChapterEighteen

“You know,” I repeat, gaping at Ryan. “What is it that you think you know?”

I look between Ryan and Jasper, and suddenly it hits me. Of course. Jasper’s been using Stark Security resources to investigate The Maestro. Ryan’s pissed. And maybe Ryan even knows about Melinda’s death.

He’s probably going to lecture Jasper on the risks of blow back to the agency for the kinds of investigations that Jasper’s running on his own.

I reach out and grasp Jasper’s hand under the table, offering my silent support. Except he won’t take it. Instead, he pulls his hand away.

I glance over, and that’s when I see the expression on his face. That’s when I realize I’m wrong. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is about a hell of a lot more than utilizing Stark Security resources without authorization.

“Tell me,” I say to Jasper. “What’s going on?”

“You’re not going to like this,” Ryan says to me. “Leah. Play it.”

Leah meets my eyes, and I see that hers are full of apology. Then she puts her phone on the table. “This recording came to us today. We’ve only had time to do a cursory forensic examination, but it looks legit.” She glances at Ryan, who nods. “We don’t know who the other voice is,” she adds, “but you’ll both recognize one speaker.”

She looks at me again, then drops her gaze.

Cold terror runs through me. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know it’s going to be bad. Beside me, Jasper’s palms are flat on the table. He looks perfectly calm, and in that moment, I realize what a good agent he must be. I think about all the things he must have seen in the course of his career. And about how many lies he must have told in order to keep himself alive.

“Just start it already,” I snap.

She does, and I listen to the horrible words being spewed out from the tiny speaker.

This is Jasper Kent. I got a message to call this number.

I search his face for a reaction. There isn’t one. Not recognition, not remorse, not anything. He is stone.

And that scares me to death.

Kill her.Kill her, or others will die, too.

I hug myself, trying to place the low raspy voice. It sounds familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Like something out of a nightmare.

Kill her? That’s Jasper’s voice. Melinda?

Melinda’s the girl in the text he just got. Is he the one who killed her? Was his shock from being caught and from seeing her dead?

Surely not. He’s been in the States, and Melinda’s in London.

Kill Zelda Clayton.

Bile rises in my throat, and a wave of panic almost knocks me out of my chair.

Kill her, and I’ll tell you where to find The Maestro.

I can’t help it. Everything in my stomach rises up my throat. I lurch out of the chair, trying to make it to the kitchen sink, because I know I can’t make it to the bathroom.

I vomit, barely getting there in time, and then I sink to the ground, grabbing a towel off the counter as I do and clutching it to my mouth.

I don’t know how he got there so fast, but Jasper is right by my side, his hands on my knees. “Are you okay? Zelda, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He tries to pull me close, and I reach out and slap him so hard across the cheek my palm goes numb.

“Get out of here.” My voice is raw from the acid from my stomach and from my anger. “Just get the hell out of my house.”

“Zelda, baby, please. I wouldn’t. I didn’t. I could never hurt you.”

I close my eyes, trying to wish him away. But beneath the black curtain of my vision, I remember his hand at my throat during sex. I remember standing at the edge of a cliff off Mulholland Drive. I can imagine how tempted he must have been. One push and he’d have his answers, none of which could bring back the dead.