No one knew who he was. No one knew where he was.
She’d tried calling Wilde. She’d spoken with Eric Wilde personally, and though there had been sympathy in his voice, Eric had said he couldn’t help her.
Constantine seemed to have vanished along with Remy. They’d both disappeared, as if they’d never been in her life at all.
Her life.Things were back to normal. Predictable. Safe. When she’d gotten out of the hospital, she’d discovered that her bookstore and her apartment had been cleaned. No, not just cleaned. The chaos had turned back into order. New books had replaced the savaged ones. The lights had been hung once more. Fresh paint had covered her walls. She had new furniture in her apartment. The framed photos of her grandfather hung on her walls.
Everything in her life wasalmostas it had been before.
So why did it seem as if a giant, gaping hole filled her heart?
The customer, a man with a baseball cap pulled low over his brow, ambled toward the counter. She put on a fake smile forhim. “Is there something I can help you find?” He wore khakis. A button down. He walked with ease but…
But when his stare locked on her, she saw the shrewd intelligence in his eyes. Something about him set off a little bell of alarm.No, not alarm. Recognition.Behind the counter, Jacqueline tensed. “Do I know you?”
“I have one of those faces.” He smiled at her. “People always think they know me.” He glanced around the shop. “Nice place you have here.”
He hadn’t answered her question. That faint alarm in her mind rang again. “I know your face.”
His head tilted as his focus shifted back to her. “Do you?”
She just didn’t knowwhereshe’d seen him.
He ambled closer. “Could be because I helped carry you out of the bar on Bourbon that night. Wasn’t sure if you’d be able to recall that part or not. You were drifting in and out. A blow to the head can make things a little foggy.”
She shot off the stool. “Who are you?”
One shoulder moved in a shrug. “We have a friend in common. He was losing his mind worrying about you, and since I didn’t want to jeopardize a ton of cases that are in play, I said I’d come and see about you myself.” His gaze swept over her. “You seem good. Recovered from that concussion, have you?”
“Who. Are. You?” Her finger was inching toward the alarm button that she’d had installed beneath her counter.
“Don’t press that button.” He shook his head. “No need to notify the cops or anyone else. I’m not here to cause any trouble.”
We have a friend in common.Her heart surged so hard in her chest. “Do you know Remy? Is he the one who sent you?”
“Remy.” He seemed to test the name.
“Rembrandt.”
“Remy…Rembrandt—that person doesn’t exist.” A sad smile curled his lips. “Part of the message that I have to deliver, I’m afraid. Make sure you don’t go talking about him to the media…or anyone else who should ever ask, understand? As I said, a lot of cases could be jeopardized.”
Her breath came faster. “You’re one of the agents he worked with.”
Another shrug.
“FBI?” she guessed.
“Hardly. Have you seen the shitty suits they wear?”
Who was this guy? Who—
“Friends call me Ty,” he said.
The name clicked. “Ty Crenshaw. Remy told me about you.” Not a lot. Not enough.
“Um. All good things, I hope?” Once more, he surveyed the shop. “This is seriously a nice place you have here. A nice life. Quiet. Safe, I bet. Well, safer now, especially since Preston Guidry won’t be seeing daylight anytime soon.”
“No one would talk to me about him, either.” Her finger still hovered over the alarm button. “Some Feds did come to see me when I was in the hospital, but they just told me they were taking over the case. That they would be contacting me again, and they left me withnothing.”