Page 30 of Replacement
“I’m happy for you,” Haley says again, and it’s impossible not to believe that she means it. “It doesn’t happen for everyone. We can’t all find someone who fits so perfectly. So don’t you dare let him go now that you found him.”
I gulp. “I… I won’t.”
* * *
A few hours later, our car lets us out in front of our building, and we walk together through the lobby and to the private elevator that leads up to our place.
My feet are killing me, and I have to fight not to limp. I’m not sure if I’m entirely successful since William moves a hand to the small of my back in that supportive gesture he’s been using all evening.
I like how the light pressure feels. I like how he looks, how he smells, how he feels beside me, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a man in my life—one who is really with me. For so long, I’ve prided myself on my self-sufficiency. I don’t need a man to be okay. But there are some things about it that are really nice.
We’ve gotten into the lobby when I notice someone in a dark, inexpensive suit standing across from the main entrance. He’s in his forties—with dark hair, dark eyes, and a pleasant face. I recognize him immediately.
He’s a police detective from back in Houston. Detective Curtis. The one who is friends with Montaigne. I’m positive that he and his official resources are the main reason I could never really get away from my stalker.
My heart leaps into my throat, and I’m washed with a wave of ice cold. I glance away from him immediately, as if my eyes accidentally flickered in his direction. I keep walking with William.
But Detective Curtis knows me. Heknowsme.
“Jade,” he calls out, straightening up as soon as he sees me.
I don’t turn around. My eyes are on the guard in front of me, the one manning the private elevator.
“Ms. Delaney,” Curtis calls, even louder. He must be approaching quickly since his voice is much closer than it was. “Jade Delaney!”
William stops and turns around to frown at Curtis. One of the security staff, in a matter of three seconds, is standing between William and the other man.
“I’m not Jade,” I say, my voice a little raspy from fear. My hands are shaking, but I manage to hide them by twisting them together. “I’m Amber Delacourte.”
Curtis stops abruptly and stares at me in disbelief.
“Who exactly areyou?” William demands. His cold, condescending tone is incredibly comforting.
Curtis starts to reach into his jacket pocket but is forcefully prevented from doing so by the guard.
“I’m a police detective,” he chokes out, clearly surprised and outraged by such manhandling. “I was going to show my credentials.”
At a nod from William, the guard releases Curtis, and he presents his credentials to William. “I’m from Houston. I came to DC to look for Jade Delaney.”
William glances over the credentials and then looks back at Curtis with a shrug. “I don’t know who Jade Delaney is. But this is my fiancée, Amber Delacourte.” He appears defensive, almost protective. And I can’t help but appreciate it—even if he believes he’s protecting Amber and not me. Besides, William’s interference has given me time to catch my breath and pull myself together.
“Jade is probably my sister,” I volunteer, since I have to admit it now. “She must have changed her last name when she left home. I didn’t know what she changed it to, but it must be her you’re looking for.”
Curtis’s dark eyebrows draw together dubiously. “Your sister? You look exactly alike.”
“We’re twins.” I’m uncomfortably aware of William’s surprised, observant eyes on my face. I pull Amber’s driver’s license out of my purse and hand it to Curtis as proof of my identity since I don’t think he’ll believe me otherwise. “Is she all right? I haven’t talked to her in years.”
“Actually,” Curtis says, evidently accepting that I’m Amber and handing the license back after studying it closely. “She’s not. She’s in some trouble and she’s disappeared. We’re trying to find her. I managed to trace her back to you and was hoping you might know where she is.”
Some trouble.
That’s what he’s saying.
The only trouble I’ve ever gotten into is being stalked by Montaigne, and now this man is making it sound like I’m the bad guy.
I really can’t believe this. Montaigne somehow got a police detective to come all the way to DC to track me down.
I shake my head, doing my best to keep my face composed and my eyes steady. “I don’t. We had a falling out a long time ago and haven’t talked to each other since. It’s been like nine or ten years. How exactly is she in trouble?”