Hunting Truth (28 page)

I’d noticed immediately that I was alone
in Lucas’ bed. I pulled on a tee shirt and sweatpants and sauntered
off to his gym to find him, noting with pleasurable satisfaction
upon each step that I was deliciously tender in certain places.
When I reached it, the huge room was silent and empty. I’d been
sure I’d find him there, taking out his stress and anger on the
equipment. I then checked the kitchen but that was empty too. I
desperately wanted a coffee but I’d started to feel uneasy. The
night before, when we’d returned from the club, Lucas was quiet and
somewhat withdrawn. I’d given him some breathing space, knowing
instinctively not to force him to talk about it. I hurried back to
the bedroom, wondering whether I’d done the right thing by leaving
him to his thoughts. I tried calling his cell but there was no
reply. I called Daniel and asked him where Lucas was but he said
he’d not seen him. I didn’t have Carter’s number so I asked Daniel
to contact him and let me know whether Carter knew where Lucas
was.

I had an unexplainable feeling that
something was wrong. I decided to shower and dress so that I’d be
ready—although goodness knew what I needed to be ready for. As soon
as I stepped into the bathroom, I could see that Lucas had showered
recently—his almost dried footprints were just visible on the floor
and the shower screen was still covered in water droplets. I
wondered how I’d slept through him getting up, showering and
dressing. I guessed that the stress of the previous day had wiped
me out—well, that and the marathon lovemaking session with Lucas
once we’d returned to his apartment.

I showered and dried my hair quickly, then
dressed in navy pants and a
coordinating cashmere sweater. I chose my smart-casual
outfit deliberately, not knowing where I might be going but my gut
told me that I’d be needed.

Daniel called as I was finishing my makeup
and informed me that Carter wasn
’t answering his cell either. He’d tried both of them
several times but without success. He then informed me that Lucas
had a meeting that afternoon with the music industry mogul. So I
knew Lucas hadn’t cancelled the meeting, but I still didn’t know
whether he intended to attend. I took note of the time and venue of
the appointment from Daniel and asked him to let me know if he
heard from Lucas.

I sat down on the bed feeling
discombobulated. I really wanted to visit mini-Dakota and check on
how the second apartment was progressing
, but I was too jumpy to leave the apartment in
case Lucas came back while I was out. I decided to look over my
designs for the remaining apartments in an effort to feel
productive but mainly as an attempt to keep my mind
occupied.

I soon had my designs spread all over the
lounge floor along with samples and color charts and became
engrossed in my work. When I was satisfied, I sat back on my heels
and surveyed the ordered chaos. I loved my job—especially since I
got to work on mini-Dakota, the place I’d soon call home, along
with Lucas. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt.

If Lucas was forced to give in to
Joel
’s evil blackmail
attempt, then none of it would happen. Joel would own the building
. . . and the one I was sitting in. Suddenly I felt sick. I noticed
that my hands were shaking and angry tears threatened to leak from
my eyes. Frustration surged through me at the unfairness of it all.
For a second, I was tempted to tear up all the designs so that Joel
wouldn’t benefit from any more of my hard work but common sense
prevailed and I refrained—just. Finally, the tears began to fall.
It was all such a mess.
Get a grip, Issy. There’s nothing to be gained
from sitting here crying like a baby. Oh shut up! Great—now I’m
arguing with myself! Argh!
Seeking a distraction, I stood on shaky legs and went to
get a drink of water from the kitchen.

I heard the private elevator arrive as
soon as I turned into the hallway. It could only be Lucas. I ran,
planning to jump into his arms the moment he stepped out but when
he did, I saw that Carter was with him and what I’d intended to be
a graceful leap into my lover’s arms, turned into an ungainly
stumble as I hastily tried to cancel my plan at the last moment.
Slam! I hit Lucas’ chest, knocking the breath from his
lungs.

“Whoa!” said Carter, clearly amused as Lucas
turned away and bent over, fighting for breath.

“
Crap!” I muttered, ignoring Carter. “I’m
sorry, Lucas. Are you okay?”

A minute or so later, he
st
raightened up with a
bemused expression on his face. “Sure. And yes, I missed you too,
honey,” he whispered, smiling so that his eyes creased and made me
melt.

Carter
’s mouth twitched before he excused himself and walked down
the hallway, presumably to give us some privacy. I wondered if
anything fazed him, after all he wasn’t used to seeing Lucas with a
girlfriend and yet he seemed more comfortable than we were in his
presence.

“
When I woke up and you weren’t there, I
worried. God knows why but I had a feeling that something awful had
happened. Then I had Angel and Chad on the phone, asking for news
about Scott and fretting about your meeting with whatshisname this
afternoon. I almost told them to forget about the meeting, after
all, it’s probably the last thing on your mind—”

“
Hey,” he said softly, before sealing his
lips over mine. “I’m fine. I’m going to the meeting—I wouldn’t let
the boys down. Stop worrying, okay? I just need a little time with
Carter and then I’ll be right with you. Where are you going to
be?”

“
I need to drop by mini-Dakota to check on
progress with the second apartment and then
—”

“
No, Issy,” he said, sharply. “I meant
where in the building are you going to be?”

I looked at him in confusion.

“
You’re not going out alone. We still don’t
know exactly what Joel’s up to or where he’s holed up. Drummer Boy
is still on the run and now it seems that Ava has vanished into
thin air. I want you where I can see you as much as possible, and
when you’re not with me, I want you inside this building,
preferably in my apartment.”

Ava
’s disappeared? What the . . .
I stared at him open-mouthed. I
drew in a breath to protest at his overprotective stance but he cut
me off.

“
That
’s non-negotiable, Issy. Everything’s fucked up and I’m
finding it difficult to concentrate as it is. If I don’t know
you’re safe, I’ll never be able to concentrate. And if anything
happens to you . . .” His voice broke off and he closed his eyes,
shaking his head as if that option was unthinkable.

“
Okay,” I whispered. “I don’t like it but,
if it means that much to you, I’ll be a good girl and stay inside
the building.”

His eyes snapped open. “You mean that much
to me. Thank you, Issy. I’m sorry to dash off but Carter’s techies
have found something odd that I’ve got to check out. I’ll be done
as soon as I can, okay? If you leave the apartment to go and work
in my office or whatever, text me and let me know.
Okay?”

I nodded
and he kissed me and strode off down the hallway.
I watched him, feeling increasingly despondent about the whole mess
that Joel had created. I’d always felt sad about being an only
child but if there was a chance my sibling would’ve turned out like
Joel, then frankly, it wasn’t worth it. I realized that Lucas had
gone through the door he kept locked. Again, I wondered what was in
there that would make him meet with Carter in there instead of his
office.

I crept forward, pausing when I got level
with the door. I could hear their muted voices and was tempted to
make an excuse to speak with Lucas so I could enter. But I figured
that Lucas had more than enough on his mind and me disturbing him
purely to be nosey wouldn’t help.

I continued into the kitchen, realizing
that my stomach had settled because Lucas was back in the building
so I made coffee instead. Again, I was tempted to use that as an
excuse to knock on the door—innocently offering to make them a
coffee whilst peering into the secret room. I decided against it
for the same reasons as before.

I took my coffee into the living room,
pointedly walking past the secret room as if I were totally
disinterested.
I sat and
pondered the latest news. I wondered whether Ava’s disappearance
had anything to do with Joel. He obviously knew about her
connection with Lucas, past and present. Maybe he thought she had
useful information about Lucas and the club that could help him
with his blackmail attempt.
Or perhaps he thinks Lucas still has feelings for
her . . . well, she certainly still has feelings for him.
Would she be brave
enough to keep such information to herself? Oh for God’s sake,
Issy! Get a grip! You don’t even know if Joel has abducted
her!

I stood, deciding to
attempt to distract myself with the
amazing views that Lucas’ apartment afforded. I managed to push
aside thoughts of Ava, but musings about the band going on tour in
a couple of days with no idea of Scott’s whereabouts, took over.
And then that afternoon’s meeting about a recording contract popped
back into my head. How would Denial stand a chance of getting
signed if they were missing their drummer? I realized with
bitterness that it wasn’t just Lucas’ life that Joel was fucking up
. . . it was the hopes and dreams of the whole band too.
And what about
yours, Issy?
That
thought made me shudder so I forcefully pushed it to the back of my
mind.

*

When Lucas joined me a short time later,
he told me there was still no news on Scott or Ava and that Carter
was awaiting forensic information about the blackmail
photographs.
I gasped in
awe when he told me they were finding out exactly which
photographic paper had been used, which firms used it, where it
could be purchased, whether the images were developed or printed
and if developed, which chemicals had been used; or, if printed,
which inks and printer had been used and so on. This information
would then be correlated to narrow down the possibilities which
would all be investigated in the hope of tracking down
Joel.

Lucas looked as stressed and edgy as
I
’d ever seen him so
when he insisted that I accompany him and Carter to the meeting
with the music mogul, I agreed. I figured that the guys needed all
the help they could get to secure a deal with a missing drummer, so
if it helped Lucas to be calm and relaxed with me there, then I
owed it to them. After all, Lucas had only become linked to the
band because of me.

Carter drove us in silence. I could feel
the tension radiating from Lucas. I attempted to distract him with
talk of the structure and décor of the music company’s modern
building but he seemed uncharacteristically disinterested. We were
ushered into a large waiting area with artistically placed
furniture that could in no way compete with the framed photographs
and discs covering the walls, charting the company’s successful
history. I doubted anyone ever sat on the couches when there was so
much to see on the walls. Lucas didn’t sit down but instead paced
up and down, seemingly oblivious to the picture history of rock and
pop that was laid out before him.

My breath caught in my throat when I
realized the personal significance of the discs that dominated the
largest wall.
I turned
excitedly to show Lucas but, just then, we were called to Trey
Forbes’ office. Carter remained outside the door. Inside the
cavernous room, we found a well-dressed but stony-faced man sat
behind a large glass desk. The atmosphere was distinctly chilly and
he didn’t bother to get up and shake Lucas’ hand when it was
proffered. Instead, he waved it away and bluntly instructed us to
take a seat. I sensed rather than saw Lucas tense but, to my
relief, he sat in one of the chairs in front of the
desk.

“
Well, I have to say I
’m surprised to see you here today,” he
said smugly.

I saw Lucas’ head tilt slightly before he
replied calmly, “Can I ask why—since we had an
appointment?”

“
Well, I have it on good authority that the
band you were called here to discuss has found itself without a
drummer . . . is that not correct?”

My hopes for the band fell with that
remark and I felt for Lucas.
He didn’t appear wrong-footed when he replied,
“Temporarily, yes. But he’ll be back soon enough and even if he
isn’t, we have another drummer lined up who’s just as
good.”

I struggled to hold on to my eyebrows,
which seemed to want to take flight up to my hairline. I knew Lucas
was bluffing.
I couldn’t
believe his audacity.

“
Really?” drawled Trey, in a voice that
conveyed his contempt at Lucas’ tactics. “And your replacement
drummer’s name is . . .?”

I loathed men like him but I knew that
such men could only afford to be so smarmy and smug because they
were the best at what they did and saw themselves as everyone else
did
—untouchable. From
the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas lean forward as if to stand and I
knew he was about to walk out, taking with him the band’s
dream.

Without thinking I replied, “That would be
me. My name is Issy Prince.”