Peter smiles and leans forward. “You’re on to something and not telling me. Please tell me you’re not as stubborn as Sean.” I laugh without meaning to. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, I’m more stubborn than Sean. And something is bouncing around in my head, but it’s just a feeling. I can’t make a connection.”

Peter extends his hand, gesturing to me to share. “Lay it on me. Maybe we can make the connection together.”

“Marty and my former employer, what if they wanted to get back at me?”

Peter shifts in his seat and leans in close. With a low voice he asks, “The madam? Why would she want to get back at you through Sean?”

“I don’t know. She could have gone straight for me. There were enough times that she could have hurt me if she wanted to.” I’ve latched onto the right combination. I know it. I just can’t see how the whole mess fits together. “You’re right, Peter. Something’s wrong.” Flicking my eyes up to his, I ask, “What’s your mom saying?”

“Nothing. She’s acting like everything is fine, but it’s not because Aunt Lizzie is there. Mom never calls her, not unless there’s some serious stuff going down.”

“So, they know something.”

“I assume they have an idea, yes. The thing is, they won’t show their cards until their hand is played.”

“So, we’ll have to force them to tell us.”

Peter has an incredulous look on his face. “You can’t force Mother to do a damned thing. Where do you think Sean gets it? The plotting and scheming, the secrecy, it’s all part of our mother’s personality. When things get rough, she puts up a barricade and no one will get through.” Peter downs the rest of his orange juice and drops money on the table. “Come on.”

I jump up and follow him outside. When he pushes through the door a gust of wind catches it and nearly smacks me in the face. “Peter!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He holds the door for me and then walks next to me as we cross the parking lot to his car. “It’s just that Sean wouldn’t abandon any of us, and we both know something is off, so where would Masterson take him?”

I think for a moment, and then say the only place I can think of, “Captree, but the boat basin is going to be busy now. Marty liked to hang out down there in the winter when it was quiet.”

“Let’s try it anyway. It’s our only lead.” Peter opens a door for me and I slip into his car. It’s a little black coupe with an identity crisis—I can’t tell if it’s an old dude car or a sports car. It’s conflicted, like Peter. He can’t deny he’s a Ferro, but he doesn’t want to be a part of that family. I can tell. He rarely mentions Sidney and the two of them try to keep their distance, but something happens to the family and he’s there. Peter can’t leave them—and neither can I.

Chapter 11

It’s late by the time we make it to the docks. We’ve walked around for a while and asked people if anyone saw Sean down here, or Marty. That tactic isn’t working and it’s getting dark. “Peter, he’s not here. Marty wouldn’t choose a public place like this. I just couldn’t think of any other place he’d hide out.”

At the same time, we both glance up, and across the water to Oak Island and the rows of empty houses. “I bet he’s over there.”

“So, how do we find him?” Peter asks, leaning back against his car. The wind blows and lifts his dark hair off his face, revealing the same intense gaze Sean wears so often. “I don’t know any Girl Scouts selling cookies right now.”

I laugh at him. “Marty isn’t going to open the door for cookies. That’s something a five-year-old would do.”

“Well, I’d get caught pretty quickly then, assuming I ever go for the life of crime. I can’t live without cookies.” Peter sounds completely serious.

Smiling, I stare at the water, watching the setting sun glint off the surface. We’re quiet for a few moments before I ask, “Wait, what did you say?”

“I can’t live without cookies.” Peter offers that crooked grin of his and pushes off his car.

“It has been close to two weeks since the shooting. He’ll have to have bought food somewhere.”

Peter shakes his head. “If the guy is holding out in one of those houses, he could have picked one that was stocked. And if the guy is an evil mastermind, he’s not going to come out for food. He would have had it stashed before he went to the concert and revealed himself.”

We talk more, and finally get in the car again, driving up and down the highway. We talk, but it leads to nothing and it’s way past twilight. Peter slams his palms on the steering wheel and swears. There’s that Ferro temper. It’s hard to picture Peter being the guy he used to be, polar opposite of what he is now. It makes me wonder if Sean has a chance to pull his life together too.

I finally blurt out, “I can call him.”

“Who? Marty Masterson?”

“Are you stuck in teacher mode or something? Marty Masterson.” I mimic him and smile. Teasing Peter is fun. “The guy was my friend. We don’t have to use his last name.”

“There’s no way he has his phone on him.” Peter shakes his head as he drives. The water passes swiftly beneath us as we pass over the bridge.

“But I bet he has his phone forwarding to somewhere. If I call him from my phone, he’ll answer. I can find out if he has Sean.” I glance over at Peter. “What other choices do we have?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“Trystan hid it.”

Peter glances at me. “I don’t want Scott involved in this and you know if we call him, there’s no way to get rid of him.”

“I know.” I feel horrible about it, but I need the phone. “The other option is to take the job with Black and see what shakes out. If this is leverage, they have me either way.”

“You really think they’re in this together?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t see it, but you’ve spent more time around them than me. I say we try to call Marty first.”

“Let’s do it.”

Chapter 12

Tracking down Trystan isn’t hard. He’s with Jon at the club. When we get there, Trystan lets us in and waits. He acts like it’s totally normal for Peter to be here, driving me around. It’s possible that he’s mad at me, but I can’t tell. Trystan is hard to read when he’s upset. He’s so used to putting on a public mask that it hardly ever comes off. Either way, he’s got to be wondering why Peter is with me.

Peter is tense, though he tries to hide it, and Trystan is lounging in a chair like we’re on a cruise. Peter didn’t tell Trystan much, but he already figured it out. Some of the tabloids claim he’s not that bright, but Trystan hides his intelligence. It’s a card he’ll play last, when everything else has failed. In the meantime, very few people know him at all.

“So what’s the plan? Are you seriously going to let her walk into wherever they’re keeping Sean? If Black’s in on it—”

I stop and stare at him, trying to remember if I ever said her name. I can’t remember mentioning it, so how does he know her name? “Trystan!” I scold; I'm suddenly concerned Black’s reach is further than I dreamed. “Tell me you didn’t!”

“I don’t need hookers, Call Girl.”

Rolling my eyes, I place my hands on my h*ps and give him the evil eye. “I know you don’t need them, but did you use her services? For anything?”

He looks away and my stomach drops into my shoes. Mouth gaping, Peter intercedes. “Trystan lives here, and if he called for a high-dollar call girl, there is no one else. He would have contacted Black. The reason isn’t important right now. When’s the last time you used her services?” Peter tries to gloss over it, but I can’t stand it.

Trystan tries to get up and walk away without answering, but I catch him by the wrist. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Does it matter?” His gaze is hiding something, humiliation perhaps? His hair falls forward and Trystan leaves it covering his dark eyes.

“Yes, it matters. You’re another connection back to that awful woman. Did she tell you to buddy up to me? Tell me, Trystan, does she have your balls in a glass jar along with the balls of every other man on Long Island?” I’m in his face, hissing the words. Trystan doesn’t walk away or deny it. Instead he just stands there watching me, waiting for me to give up on him. It’s infuriating. “Stop it!” My hand swings and the slap connects with his cheek. I tremble for a second and watch him. He doesn’t fight back, which kills me.

He smiles. “Are you happy now?”

“Trystan, I—”

“Avery, he’s not the one you’re mad at. Let it go.” Peter is standing next to me, ready to pull me away.

“But he—”

“Leave it alone. You’re missing pieces of this story—anyone can see that. Trystan isn’t using you, and if he were a repeat customer of a call girl service the press would have picked up on it by now. Let it go. We need to find Sean and we can’t do that with you two fighting, so stop.”

Trystan is smirking. He leans to the side to catch my eye. “I know Pete said to leave it alone, but this really makes me wonder how you could be such a hypocrite. You condemn me so quickly even though you’re on the taking end of this deal. Liars are we, twisting the truth until it suits us best? Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

Peter gives Trystan a look that promises a punch in the face if he doesn’t stop. Even so, I can’t leave it alone.

“I’m not a liar or a hypocrite. That’s not why I’m upset. It’s because you know Miss Black. Admit it. You’ve met her. There’s no way you haven’t. Then I pour my heart out to you, assuming you have no connection to her and the entire time you already knew her and didn’t correct me. Did you know that she knows Sean, too? Did you know that every time I turn around, I expect to see her there, waiting to pull me back? Did you know I don’t have a choice? She won’t let me leave, Trystan! I’m caught in the middle of her fu**ing vortex and I can’t get out. But you already know all that don’t you?” Tears are in my eyes and I look away, feeling betrayed. I try to hide it. I can’t fall apart now, no matter what he’s done.

Trystan runs his hands through his hair, revealing his toned midriff, before blurting out, “I use her services once a year. It’s to forget about her. How am I supposed to confess something like that, when it’s so damning? Now Pete knows, which means it’s not a secret anymore. It’ll spread and the next time I see Mari, she’ll hate me even more.” He’s smiling like it’s funny, but his words are so somber that I feel my gut twisting inside of me.

Peter watches the two of us closely, but he doesn’t comment. It probably looks like we’re in a relationship, but we’re not. I need friends, I can’t survive without them, and Trystan said he’d always be there for me. Marty uttered the same words and now look what’s happened. Who can I trust?

Trystan slumps down on a beat up couch, while Peter starts to pace the room. Peter stops and glances over at me. Concern etches his face, increasing the depth of the fine worry lines. He thinks he’s going to lose his brother. I can see that fear; I know what he’s thinking because the same thoughts have been filling my mind since Peter surfaced. Peter doesn’t show up without a reason and he tends to bolt as soon as possible. I can’t blame him, not with the Ferro family. It’s no mystery why Sidney isn’t here—Peter’s afraid—and so am I.

All three of us are silent for a moment. That’s when Mel and Jon come out of the office. Jon is somber, but his expression changes when he sees us. “What the f*ck is this?” Jon’s been so mad since Bryan died. His anger is always just below the surface, ready to erupt.

Trystan leans back into the couch without answering and Peter looks down at his saddle shoes, so Mel and Jon both turn their attention to me.

Mel is wearing sweats and gold hoop earrings. Her hair has expanded to twice its normal size. The look is very odd for a girl who is always perfectly dressed. She looks like a hot hobo. “Staring at the floor means they’re up to no good. A big chunk of stupid fell and hit them on the head, Jonny boy. There’s no way you can keep me from finding out what’s going on so you might as well spill.”

Jon is staring at me with an unreadable expression. I can’t tell if he’s mad or something worse. Finally, he sighs and runs his hands through his hair and down his neck. He glances at Peter. “It’s Sean, right?” Peter’s gaze flicks up, surprised. Jon rolls his eyes. “Pete, I notice things. Mom and Aunt Lizzie have been together way too much. Something’s up, and it’s major. Plus, Sean is ominously absent. It’s a very strange combo, especially since Sean likes to put his nose in everything. Bossing people around is his specialty and for some reason, he’s not here protecting Avery the way he should be, and since Bryan’s dead, well, we know he’s not there either.”

I can’t help it. I snap at him, “It wasn’t Sean’s fault.”

Jon looks down and I can see the wall go up as his eyes turn to steel. “Just answer my fu**ing question—what’s wrong?”

Peter sighs and looks over at me. I nod and clutch my middle tighter as Peter tells them our suspicion, and then the phone call. Jon retains his stern look and pointed focus. “Leave him.”

Peter, Trystan, Mel, and I all speak in unison. “What?”

Jon shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “Sean got himself into this, he can get himself out.”

“Jon,” Peter speaks with that deep voice that almost sounds like a scold.

“Don’t talk to me like that Pete. Sean did this. It’s his mistake and there’s not a fu**ing chance in Hell that any of you should go pay for it. Masterson is a lunatic. He’ll kill both of you, Avery. If he’s responsible for all those murders—”

I cut him off, “Yeah, if. Jon, he can’t be, Marty’s not like that. He doesn’t fight and he hardly ever loses his temper. It’s weird.”

“How can you say that? You saw the gun in his hand!” Jon’s temper is rising and it feels like I’m poking a pissed off bear while covered in honey. It’s the dumbass thing to do, but something’s wrong and we have to find Sean.