“Realistically, without someone like Nia on the case,” Rosie said, “how long do you think it would take for Adams to figure out that the Saeed woman and Bellamy were the ones at his house?”
“I think I would be the easier one to track down,” I admitted. “I don’t exactly keep a low profile. “But I think Shawn would be harder to find.”
Even as I was saying it, Quin was typing away at his computer.
“He’s right. I can’t find any social media for Shawn Saeed actually. Which is strange. There is a mention of her in articles about the family business since she is a designer there. But no pictures. That’s something at least. We need to bring her in,” he added, looking up at me.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re going to need to schmooze Nia,” Quin said, shaking his head. “She’s pissed at me.”
“Again,” Rosie added, getting a glare from the boss.
“What’d you do now?” I asked.
“Let Holden share her office for the time being,” Quin said, shrugging. “Construction is taking longer than I’d like. Supply shortages or some shit. And I need somewhere for him to be when he is in the office. Which isn’t often. But, apparently, he takes her shit without asking. And now she’s not speaking to me.”
“She growled at me when I tried to ask if she could help track you down,” Rosie added. “Then yelled something about not doing anything for Quin and how I was a brown noser for agreeing to be his errand boy.”
“You’ve always had a way with Nia,” Quin said, shrugging.
By “had a way,” he meant I surprised her with gifts to help make her feel more appreciated. It was the spur-of-the-moment, though, so I had nothing for her.
“Figure it out,” Quin said, reading my thoughts. “Every moment you spend here thinking about it is putting you and this Shawn woman in more danger. You two need to get safe. And then we will need to clean up the mess.”
And by ‘clean up the mess,’ he clearly meant take out Adams for good.
You had to be careful how you phrased things around Rosie. Even though he wasn’t likely to ever be any of our personal lawyers, he was a lawyer and he did, to an extent, believe in the judicial system.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said, getting up, and making my way into the hallway.
With Shawn and our time in the Maldives in mind, I brought up some images on my phone, then went into Nia’s room. There was a small desk pushed up against the other wall, neat save for several of the little hand-carved figurines that Holden was known for creating, and a little bit of sawdust on the edge that hadn’t gotten swept into the garbage set beside the desk for just that purpose, it seemed.
“What?” Nia barked, looking over at me with furious, but heavy-lidded and red eyes.
The woman needed a break from her computers before she burned out.
“I have a proposition for you,” I said, making my way toward her desk, placing my phone down in front of her.
“What is the proposition?”
“Two weeks. Alone. On a private over-water villa. Meals delivered three times a day. But you never have to see another soul if you don’t want to. Just sleep and relax and swim and maybe have a private masseuse come over to spoil you.”
I swear that this woman—this hard-as-nails, takes-no-shit woman—looked a little glassy-eyed at the prospect.
“You say the word, and I will get my pilot to fly you out there. No one could get in contact with you there. No one but a handful of people even know I own it. You need a reset,” I said, sitting down. “That is the perfect place for it.”
“I have work,” she said, but her voice was weak.
“You know what I hear, doll?”
“What?”
“They survived without you before. Was it ideal that they all had to do their own research? No. But they did it. And they can do it again. You deserve some time off. No one works as hard as you do.”
“What’s the catch?”
“I need you to help me find Shawn Saeed before I call my pilot to arrange your flight.”
“I can do that,” she said, nodding.
“She doesn’t have any social media,” I warned her.
“Like that means anything,” she said, rolling her eyes, then getting right to work.
I made my way out to give her some privacy, finding Quin making yet another cup of coffee. Which, for reasons I didn’t begin to understand, reminded me immediately of Shawn and her hardcore coffee obsession.
“What’s the word?” Quin asked, making me shake off the thoughts.
“She’s working on it. But she’s taking a vacation after.”
To that, Quin let out a sigh. “I knew it was coming,” he said, nodding. “I’ve been dreading it, to be honest. She’s become a vital part of the team. But she needs it, or she is going to burn out.”