Finn and Eli don’t need to know, I’ll get someone sent out tonight. By early tomorrow morning, I’ll know for sure. There isn’t a stone I’d leave unturned when it comes to Princess.
Doesn’t matter if it’s a waste of effort. Peace of mind outweighs the what-ifs.
The waitress comes back to clear our table just as I shoot off the text. The response from Sgt. Daniels almost instant. He’d have someone flown out in the next hour.
Shifting, she adjusts the square bucket under her arm. “Would you mind grabbing that for me?” She asks, almost sheepishly, after I lift my head back up.
“Sorry, we’re already short staffed as is, but with all the added business. Well… we’ve been a little overwhelmed.” She chuckles, but it’s nervous.
Her cheeks as red as the tight ringlets of her pulled-back hair. Eyeing the empty glass at the farthest side of the table when I still don’t move.
Shooting me a side sneer, Eli grabs for it, handing it to her with an apologetic smile when I just blink, perplexed.
My shoulder lifts in defense. What, like it’s my fault her limbs aren’t long enough to reach?
“Wait—”
My eyes suddenly slice in the direction of the clinking noise. Her mouth parts in surprise, but I ignore it. Her jumpy reaction not my concern.
“What was that?”
“Uh, what was what?” That nervous chuckle of hers back.
“That,” I say, pointing to her hand that’s still suspended, frozen in midair. “On the glass. The sound?”
“Oh, that’s my wedding band, sir. Sometimes it knocks the cups.”
She does it again. This time intentionally moving her finger to demonstrate. The small single-carat diamond on a silver band knocks again as the sound echoes on the rim of the cup.
The noise familiar. Similar to one I recognize.
The waitress pulls her arm back awkwardly. Leaving us before she finishes like she can’t get away fast enough. I find it more beneficial than troublesome.
That sound.
Almost identical to the sound Rory’s wrist makes when she knocks her arm into something.
“Pull the video back up.” My words hoarse and uncontrolled.
So unlike me.
“Honest to God, this is the last time,” I pant in my desire to know. Needing to be sure.
My hands squeeze. I’m willing them to steady when they start to tremble. I’d been so positive I’d had every detail of that video mapped out. Down to the second, now I’m unsure.
Desperate is what I feel.
The video starts again, and nothing is different. My eyes ping-pong along with the screen. Throat bobbing almost as fast.
The first half of the video the same as I expect. It’s the second half I need answers to. The half where she comes out of the bathroom.That’swhat has my attention.
My pulse kicks. My brows dipping together before rising to my hairline. Catching the one small inconsistency to an otherwise foolproof plan.
I watch again to be sure, and a low rumble works its way up my chest. Noticing it again.
My back hits the expired foam-covered vinyl. It conforms to my back instead of springing forward as it should. I don’t know if I’m more relieved or furious with her for being so deceptive.
I click my tongue. That smart little minx.