Every Last Secret by Torre A. R

Author:Torre, A. R.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 25

CAT

It had been a week since I’d returned from Hawaii, and I still hadn’t adjusted to the cool shift in temperatures. I was submerged in the heated pool, sitting at the bottom of the shallow end, when I heard the muffled sound of a yell. I immediately pushed off the rock floor and broke the surface. Blinking the water out of my eyes, I saw Maria, our head of landscaping, kneeling at the side of the pool and waving frantically at me. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s next door,” she whispered. “The new neighbors. There is a man screaming for help. I didn’t want to go in case police are needed.”

I pushed out of the pool and shivered in the chill of the morning air. Wringing the water from my hair, I took the robe she offered. In the distance, I heard a pained yell and spun my head to the sound. “Who is home? ¿Quien está aquí?”

“No one. Just us.”

“Okay.” I yanked the robe on and pushed my feet into my flip-flops.

“Here is your phone.” She looked at me worriedly. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Thank you for letting me know.” I ran along the cobblestone path toward the Ryders’ home, my teeth already chattering in the cold. I should have swum indoors today but had relished the idea of a hot-tub session after my swim, and possibly a snack of prosciutto and melon as I enjoyed the smell of fresh-cut grass and roses. I eyed the low wall between our properties and then skirted it, finding an opening in the bushes big enough to slip through. “Matt!” I called out. “Matt! Are you okay?”

“I’m over here!” His voice came from the pool deck, and I sprinted up the deck’s side steps and skidded to a stop when I spied him.

I inhaled sharply. “Matt. Don’t move.”

He lay awkwardly on his stomach in the grass, his arm bent back at an impossible angle, his face gray with pain. Beside him were pieces of an iron railing. I glanced up and spotted the hole in the upper balcony. Pulling my phone from the robe pocket, I quickly dialed 9-1-1.

“I’m getting an ambulance, Matt. Try not to move.”

I wrapped my arms around my chest, hugging the material to me as I told the operator their address and what had happened. I ended the call. “They’re on their way. Said less than five minutes.”

“Call Neena,” he rasped.

I was already dialing her number and growled in frustration when it went straight to voice mail. I ended the call and tried again. Same result. Glancing at my watch, I called the main receptionist at Winthorpe Tech, relieved when William’s assistant answered the phone.

“Ashley, it’s Cat. I need to speak to Neena. Do you know where she is?”

“Of course, Mrs. Winthorpe. She’s in a meeting with your husband. I was told not to disturb them.”

I frowned. “Are they in his office?”

“No, the boardroom.”

The boardroom. The only location in the building, except for the closed labs, where visual privacy was afforded.

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