“Two nights ago.”
“Two nights ago?” The night Talon and I had driven to Denver. “Have you seen her since then?”
“I haven’t, but she and I don’t exactly run in the same circles.”
Damn. If she’d needed me, she would have called, right? I kept telling myself that. “If you do see her, could you tell her I’m looking for her?”
The young woman smiled again. “Sure, I can do that. But you’ll have to tell me who you are first.”
“Oh, of course.” I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket, opened it, and pulled out one of my business cards. “Jonah Steel.” I handed her the card.
“And will she know what this is about?”
I nodded.
The woman held out her hand. “I’m Lisa O’Toole. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” I shook her hand quickly and then turned.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
I turned back around, and she was smiling, her hips tilted in a seductive pose. Really? She was going to try flirting with me now?
“I have a friend waiting for me at the bar across the street. Please, just tell Melanie I’m looking for her. And that I’m worried about her. I need to know she’s okay.”
“Will do, Jonah Steel.” Lisa winked.
She must have been a trust fund baby to live in Melanie’s building. Or maybe she was older than she looked and had a job.
I was one to talk about money. My brothers, sister, and I had never had to worry about money. Still, we worked hard, running the ranch. We could’ve sold it if we’d wanted to and pocketed enough money to support the next several generations of our family. But both my grandfather and my father would no doubt be rolling over in their graves had we done so.
So her loft had been burglarized. She was probably staying at a hotel. She would have called if she wanted to, or at least answered my calls. Clearly, her sneaking out of my house had been a message. She didn’t want me.
I’d live with it.
I had to.
Still, something niggled at the back of my neck—that bizarre feeling when something wasn’t right.
I swished it away with a gesture. Nothing a martini couldn’t solve. I walked to the elevator, descended, and then strode over to meet Bryce. I spied him right away sitting at a cocktail table, a beer in his hand. A martini sat at the empty spot. Good man. I ambled over to join him.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
I picked up the drink and took a sip. Not CapRock but not bad. “It didn’t. She wasn’t home, and her door was blocked off with police tape.”
“What?” Bryce set his beer down without taking a sip. “Is she okay?”
“As far as I know. I talked to her neighbor. Melanie wasn’t there when the police came, so it was probably a burglary. Why didn’t she call me, though?”
“Didn’t you tell me she sneaked out of your house a couple days ago? Maybe…”
“You can finish the thought. Maybe she didn’t want to call me.” I took a long drink of my martini. “I can fucking handl
e it.” Though I wasn’t sure I believed my own words.
“Well, just keep calling. She has to answer eventually. Maybe.”
“I just can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right.”