Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
When I don’t respond, Court peppers me with another question instead. “Any word on the investigation?”
“Not much. The guy Theo hired has talked to all the potential witnesses himself, apart from Alexa. He mentioned she’s been evasive, but that doesn’t surprise me. She’s always been like that.”
She mulls this tidbit over, her eyes creasing as she comes to some sort of a conclusion. “That’s odd. I mean, I know she can be flighty, but why wouldn’t she just talk to him?”
“I don’t know. Every time I see her, she practically runs the other direction. I just figured Audrey told her not to speak to me.”
“I gotta say that girl has been acting weird for a while now too.” Court frowns. “But maybe you should try talking to her yourself. Since she was technically the last person there, she could have some helpful information that’s been overlooked.”
“Maybe,” I concede, but honestly, I don’t think Alexa will tell me anything.
I have so many things to worry about right now. It’s hard to prioritize them. I still have to make amends with Jared and find a way to talk to Carson so we can have a real conversation. And there’s one other thing. For my own sanity, I just need to know Landon is okay. Even if I never see him again, it would make me feel better knowing that he’s out there somewhere, and he’s alright. I’m hoping Carson can at least tell me that much.
“Do you think Landon will ever come back?” Court seems to read my thoughts.
My heart thumps a sad little protest, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. But probably not.”
25
Landon
Los Angeles never changes. On any given day, you could walk down the street and see the same bright-eyed hopefuls who came here to make it big. They haven’t been chewed up and spit out by the machine yet. They can’t smell the filth and greed poisoning the air. But, in time, they will.
They all want something. Fame. Fortune. Purpose.
Want. Want. Want.
I remember being chained to that treadmill too. All I wanted was my mother’s love. It’s funny how time and distance bring everything into perspective. After today, I doubt I’ll ever have a reason to come back here again.
Phillip’s office is in a building on Wilshire Boulevard. Clearly, he wants too. But I can’t fault him for not knowing any better. He’s lived here his whole life. He was driven from a young age, lured in by the glitz and glamour. He works hard, and he lives well, all things considered. Other than the fact his Bluetooth is permanently attached to his ear, and he’ll probably work himself into an early grave from the constant pressure of this job. When that happens, I’ll remember him as an ally when I needed one most.
“Oh, Landon.” His receptionist shoots out of her chair as if there’s a bomb in the seat cushion. “I didn’t know you were coming in.”
She frantically combs back a few pieces of stray hair in her face, blinking at me like a deer in the headlights. Grace is usually well put together, but it’s obvious my arrival shocked the hell out of her. Given that nobody has been able to find me for the last two months, I’m not surprised by her response.
“Is Phillip in?” I glance down the hall.
“Yes, of course.” She waves me forward. “Follow me.”
Phillip’s office doesn’t have a door. It’s one giant cube of glass, and I’m not sure how he gets anything done in this fish tank. Everything is sharp, clean, and shiny, much like him. When Grace ushers me in, he’s propped against his desk, staring out the window as he talks through the device in his ear. She lightly taps the doorframe, and he jolts upright when he sees me standing there.
“Brad, let me call you back.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he ends the call and rounds the desk. “Holy shit, Landon. I’ve been worried out of my mind.”
He pauses like he wants to hug me, but then shakes my hand the same way he always does. Phillip has worked with me since I was a child, but he never treated me like one. I’ve always respected him for that.
“Where have you been?” He pulls out a chair for me, and I take it. “I was seriously considering sending out a search party.”
“Sorry about that,” I murmur.
Grace stands there awkwardly, probably trying to ask me if I want a drink, but Phillip waves her away without a word. He resumes his position leaning against the desk, this time facing me.
“So?”
“Florida.” I shrug. “I rented a beach house there. Bummed around in the sun for a while. Read a few books. The usual.”
“What happened to your phone?” he asks.
“I tossed the phone. I needed to disconnect for a while.”