The bartender mutters something on the phone before he hangs up and turns to us.
“Through there.” He points to the door on the right-hand side of the bar. “The door at the end of the corridor.”
I turn on my heels and storm through with sure, determined steps. A shorter, fuller man, with curly brown hair brushing against his ears, waits in the open doorway, arms crossed against his chest. He straightens instantly when more of us keep walking into the narrow corridor.
“Scarlet’sfuture husband, I presume?” His tone bears traces of amusement, but I think our presence wiped most of it off.
“Carter Pierce.” I introduce myself and look inside the office, at the second man, who has risen from behind the wooden desk. No sign of Bernard, though. “Where’s your brother?”
We step into the office, crowding inside the room.
“Well, I’m Alvaro,” the first man says, “and this is my brother, Lucas. But I presume it’s not this brother you’re asking for.”
“Nice to meet you, I guess,” Lucas adds.
“Our apologies. Circumstances ask for some urgency, I’m afraid,” Vincent says. “This is Finnigan Hennessey and Maddox Severin, and I am Vincent Sinclair.”
“From...Queenscove?” he asks, cocking his head. But I don’t miss the slight tremor in his gaze at the revelation.
“The very same,” Finnigan answers.
“And why are you looking for our brother?” Lucas asks.
“He attacked Scarlet and kidnapped her out of her home tonight,” Vincent says. “We need to find him.”
Alvaro frowns, whipping his head toward his brother as they exchange confused, irritated looks.
“You’re sure of this?” he asks.
I step forward and pull the cufflink out of my waistcoat pocket, the ripped shirt fabric still attached, then place it on his desk.
“This was on the floor of her ransacked office,” I say. “There was some blood too.”
The taller, leaner man leans over the desk and picks up the object, rolling his eyes and sighing. His exasperation speaks volumes. Why do I have the feeling there’s not much love lost between the brothers?
“We need to know where he could have taken her. Now.” I drop my gaze when the fire inside of me threatens to spill over.
“Look, we—”
“You might also want to do a sweep of all your bank accounts,” I say, needing to throw another incentive in there. “Scarlet’s PC was still turned on when we found it. In an attempt to convince your brother to grant her the divorce, she’s been looking into all of your finances. I only glanced at the records, and I could tell right away. He’s moving money around. Money he himself no longer has.”
“Are you suggesting he’s stealing from us?” Lucas asks, disbelief pulling at his brows.
“I’m not suggesting it. I’m telling you.”
He exchanges a look with his brother which lasts more seconds than I’m willing to waste right now.
“I have an idea.” Alvaro steps forward. “Our mother’s old house at the edge of town, next to the small forest there.”
“Take us.” I don’t wait for any response, finally seeing some goddamn light as I turn around and head straight for the exit.
Only a minute passes before the man walks out and heads to the parking lot. “Follow me.”
* * *
House is too big of a word for the ruin that welcomes us at the edge of the Bonray woods. But it could be a fucking shed for all I care, because a shiny car sits at its entrance, and I would bet my left nut that it belongs to the asshole I’m searching for.
We sneak around, trying to keep quieter than the whistling wind. Voices come from inside, through the broken windows of the small, abandoned cottage.
