Page 31 of Fated By Fire
I narrow my eyes. I recognize her—it’s hard not to; she’s Jessica’s friend from the bar. Mara. Which means very little to me right now. “You have exactly five seconds to explain why you’re in my office before security removes you.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where Elena is!”
“Elena?”
“Yes, Elena,” Mara snaps, leaning in as if she can corner me through sheer force of will. “My best friend. Dark hair, sharp tongue, looks like she hasn’t slept in three days because she’s always working cases she shouldn’t take? Ring any bells?”
It doesn’t take more than a second for the penny to drop. “You’re talking about Jessica Mercer,” I reply, my voice calm but dangerous.
“Jessica,” she snorts. “As if you don’t know that’s a lie. Her name’s Elena Ross, she’s a PI, and she was here on a case.”
Before I can respond, Mara points her finger at me accusingly. “I know you know that Elena was looking into your company. She called me last night saying she was coming here and that she would be fine, but guess what? She’s not answering her phone now and she hasn’t been back to her apartment, and that means something’snotfine. So, Caleb Craven, tell me—what happened to her?”
My mind races, Mara’s words fueling a cascade of questions. I focus on the most pressing one right now: “What time did you speak to her?”
“Around 10 pm,” Mara says, folding her arms defiantly. “She said she was coming here to check out that creepy vault of yours and she’d call me as soon as she was back safe. She promised. It’s not like her to go radio silent.”
The vault. Fuck.
“Have you called the police?” I ask. “Reported her as a missing person?”
Silver flashes in her eyebrows as she frowns at me. “No. I figured I’d face you first.” She huffs a breath. “I guess this would be the one time when the human race might actually need RFID chip implants.”
“Chip implants? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” she says. “Now, are you going to tell me or not?”
“I have no idea where your friend is,” I say firmly as I make my way around my desk.
A private investigator.
I knew there was something off about that woman.
And she was at the vault. The Heartstone.
Fuck.
“Sir, shall I get security?”
I glance at Sloane, who has retreated to the doorway but still looks entirely unflappable. “No, call Dorian. Tell him I want him here… now. And get me the Security Chief on duty last night.”
Sloane gives me a curt nod before vanishing through the door.
Mara’s gaze remains locked on me. “Where would Elena have disappeared to if she came here and then went off the radar? What aren’t you telling me?”
When I don’t respond immediately, Mara’s frustration boils over. “Look, I know PI work isn’t all puppy dogs and pancakes, but Ialsoknow what kind of crap companies like Craven Industries get up to. If you’re messing with her—”
“I’m not,” I cut her off sharply. “If Jess— Elena’s missing, it’s got nothing to do with corporate politics.”
“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I don’t respond. Instead, I turn toward the window, staring out at the skyline beyond. She went to the vault. To the Heartstone. And I felt it. I’ve had an uncomfortable sensation in my gut since last night. Couldn’t sleep.
If Mara’s timeline is correct, and she hasn’t been heard from since 10 pm, something happened when she went down there. And I knew somehow. The Heartstone warned me. I should have listened. I should have checked—
I exhale. “Mara, I don’t think you understand the kind of trouble Elena might be in.”
“I understand fine. She’s in the kind of trouble someone like youcouldhave prevented,” Mara spits back. “What are you going to do about it?”
