Chapter 252

Rain poured in torrents as Adrian Roland's car tires splashed through flooded streets.

Harsh fluorescent lights glared in the police station lobby.

"Her husband already picked her up," the desk officer said without looking up.

Adrian's knuckles rapped sharply against the counter. "Husband?"

"Yeah. The young couple left on a motorcycle."

Motorcycle.

Victor Valence.

Adrian turned so abruptly he knocked over a chair.

Joy Fairsprene's sleepy voice answered his call. "Who the hell calls at this hour—"

"Where's Julian?"

Fabric rustled before Julian Valois' groggy voice came through. "Adrian?"

"Where did Victor take Stella?"

"That kid's always disappearing—wait, Mount Rainier! He mentioned watching the sunrise there last week."

Tires screeched on wet pavement.

Mount Rainier. The name stabbed like a needle into Adrian's temple. He wrenched the steering wheel as rain pounded the windows, blending with the phantom sobs from his nightmares.

...

Under a dilapidated awning, Stella Valentine trembled while clutching a paper cup.

Victor wrung water from his T-shirt, droplets tracing the defined lines of his torso.

"Should've taken my Range Rover," he muttered, shaking wet hair. "Damn weather."

Stella stared at the curtain of rain. "Why bring me here?"

"To jog your memory." Victor suddenly leaned in. "Didn't you used to—"

"Mr. Valence!" She recoiled.

He offered his damp shirt. "Put this on."

"No thanks."

"Afraid hubby will get jealous?" Victor sneered. "After what he—"

Blinding headlights sliced through the storm.

Adrian's car door slammed with enough force to send night birds fleeing from the trees.

"What the hell is this?"

He yanked Stella forward, making her stumble. Victor's shirt landed in the mud.

"Evening stroll, Mr. Roland?" Victor smirked.

Adrian shoved Stella into the passenger seat. The engine roared as tires crushed the abandoned shirt.

Blasting heat filled the car interior.

"He's your husband?" Adrian gripped the wheel.

Stella shook her head.

"Then shut up." The accelerator slammed. "You're going home before this storm clears."