Chapter 20: The Ramp

Conroy's POV

I did not wait for the lights to come back.

I knew where the service door was, because Adele had walked me past it on her tour four months ago.

By the time the first emergency light came on, I was in the van.

My driver had the ramp up before I was strapped in.

"Which way?" he said.

"North. The lake house. It is the only property he owns where no staff live."

"You can't know that, sir."

"I read his accounts for four months. I know."

I called the county sheriff's office from the van and gave the address twice.

"A woman has been taken by force," I said. "The man's name is Howard Drummond."

"Sir, that's a serious statement."

"I am aware. Send everyone."

"Who is this?"

"Conroy Weatherford. I will be there in two hours, and I would like your cars there in one."

I hung up.

My second car had been caught behind a line of limousines on the hill, with two of my men in it, swearing.

So it was the van, the driver, and me.

It was a hundred and ten miles.

I have not prayed since the crash.

I did it for the first forty.

I thought about the hand she had put out to me in the rain.

I thought about the line I had written in blue pen, in a rage.

If she was dead when I got there, I would burn every page of that file in the Drummonds' fireplace.

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