“Dad, I agree. Aria would never take off like this and not pick up her phone. She’d find a way to contact us,” Allegra said, her young face tight with worry on my phone screen.
When Aria didn’t arrive in Century City six hours ago, I’d tried calling her only for it to go straight to voicemail. Two hours passed, and I was growing frantic, so I returned to the Malibu house in case she’d returned home for some reason. The rental wasn’t at the house, and neither was Aria.
“We should call the police,” I bit out.
Wesley scowled, worry pinching his brow. “While I agree something isn’t right, I think it’s too soon for the police. Aria’s rental could have broken down somewhere, we just don’t know.”
Chiara’s face suddenly appeared on my screen in between her husband and daughter. “Why don’t you try that cell thing where you can find someone by tracing their phone?”
Fuck. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “How do I do that?”
“Oh, oh, I know!” Allegra hurried out of frame, but I could still hear her voice. “You can track a cell through the phone number!”
Under normal circumstances, I’d find that horrifying. “Really?”
“I’m just getting”—Allegra’s voice grew nearer until she was back on screen—“my phone. Give me a second.”
We all waited impatiently until her face lit up. “Got her!” She showed me a map on her phone screen. A red pinpoint hovered in a certain spot, but I couldn’t make out an exact location.
“Can you zoom in?”
“Sure.” She zoomed in and frowned. “It looks like she’s parked on the Santa Monica Freeway.” Allegra frowned as she looked at me. “That can’t be right.”
Fear churned in my gut. “I’ll check it out. Is there anyone you can think of … who would”—I could barely think it or about the possibilities—“who would want to hurt Aria?”
Chiara clung to her husband. “No, I …”
Wesley shook his head, expression grave. He looked at his youngest daughter. “Allegra?”
She bit her lip, frowning in thought. “Well, there is one person, but … there’s no way …”
I snapped, “Allegra, who is it?”
“Ari’s ex-friend, Caitlyn Branch. I told Ari at the time that I didn’t think her behavior was appropriate. It was like she was trying to take over Ari’s life. You know, the whole cliché single-white-female thing.”
“How does that make her a threat?” Wesley asked.
Allegra shrugged. “I’m not sure it does, but she’s been emailing Aria constantly since she left LA. And she’s been coming around this coffee shop at my school to talk to me. I’ve told her to back off, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. She … seems a little delusional.”
“Unstable?” Wesley pressed.
“I hate to use that word, but … yeah.”
“Why didn’t Aria tell me about this?”
“I think she thought Caitlyn was harmless. She could be still.”
“Enough,” I cut in. “Send me the link to that map, Allegra. I’m going to follow her phone. While I’m doing that, you look into this Caitlyn Branch person.” I glared at Wesley. “And I don’t care about goddamn privacy. If I don’t find Aria with her phone, we are calling the police.”
Aria’s father nodded. “Take my car. The keys are in a lockbox in the garage. Code is 5478.”
“The fact that you’re letting him drive your Aston Martin scares the shit out of me.” Allegra looked ready to be sick. “Please find her, North. Please.”
I nodded abruptly and hung up.
Adrenaline pumped through me as I hurried through the mansion. The garage sat on the part of the mountain that faced out toward the road. I didn’t even process the dark red Aston Martin other than to be grateful for the way it hugged corners as I sped toward LA.
Thirty-Nine
ARIA
“I’m tired.” Caitlyn looked weary and her voice was hoarse from all the talking she’d done for the last five hours. There had been moments of silence while she ate a bag of potato chips and then used a Porta Potti in the corner, much to my horror. I was trying not to think about my bladder because there was no way I was peeing in this storage room. “But I can’t sleep because you might leave.”
That panic set in as the walls of the small storage unit seemed to draw closer. “Are you really going to make us stay here all night?”
“Just until we can figure this out.”
She had no idea what she was doing. This impulsive thing she’d done. “How did you know I was in LA?”
“Online photos.” Caitlyn scooted back along the bed until her back was braced against the wall and she handled the gun with both hands. “I guessed you’d stay at your parents’ house, so I waited there all night and followed you into the city.”
“North will be looking for me.”
Her expression turned icy. “We’ll talk about him in the morning.”
“Cai—Ariella—”
“No. He’s a problem for me, okay.”
Confused, I asked tentatively, “Do you see something romantic happening between us?”
She scowled. “No. It’s not like that. But men destroy female friendships. We let them. And it’s so stupid because after the marriage and the babies and we’re older and our kids have fled the nest, we’re back to needing our friends. So many of us get so caught up in the husband-and-babies thing that we push our friends away, and we’re left with nothing. I won’t be that person, Ari. I won’t abandon my friends.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “And I don’t want them to abandon me.” With her free hand, she swiped at her tears, and I saw the scars on her arm again.
In the hours she’d been talking about her life before she met me, there was no mention of self-harming.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to her arm.
Caitlyn lowered it, looking guilty. “Nothing.”
“Ariella—”
“I said it’s nothing.”
Back in high school, Montana and I had been close friends with a girl named Kelly Goldie. Her mom was an actor and her dad was a plastic surgeon. They were never around, but Kelly behaved as if she didn’t care. She enjoyed her life. Until around fifteen, when Kelly changed from being this bubbly, perky cheerleader to being sullen and angry. She pushed us all away. I tried harder than anyone to get through, but when I saw her covering up cuts on her arms and asked her about it, she stopped talking to me altogether.
And I let her.
I didn’t push.
I didn’t try to find out what the hell had happened to her.
When I was working at Curiosity, Kelly’s death made the news because of who her parents were. She’d committed suicide.
It weighed on me for weeks after and I wasn’t sure why.
Until now, looking at Caitlyn’s scars.
I felt guilty for not trying harder with Kelly. Maybe that wasn’t rational. Maybe nothing I could have done as a teenager would’ve helped. But I hadn’t even tried.
Seeing similar cuts on Caitlyn’s arm made me see her as something more than a bad person who was holding me hostage. I saw Kelly in her. I saw her pain.
So I considered a different tack. “Why … why is my friendship so important to you?”
“Isn’t mine important to you?” Her lower lip trembled with hurt.
Among the Heather (The Highlands, #2)
Samantha Young's books
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