Page 3 of For Better or for Ransom

“Probably the second,” Sol deadpanned. “I’m not sure I managed to instill all the urgency required. I don’t think they knew who Leonardo is.”

Luke’s eyes darted upward. Of course they didn’t. His partner tended to forget often that not everyone lived in a world of entertainment news and developments, like she did.

“Let’s use those ten minutes then,”—he air-quoted the number—“to see if we can find something else.”

“We need to call Divya first,” Sol stated.

“Why?” It was one thing that he felt curious enough to see if they could snoop around a bit more, but Luke saw no reason to get his professional partner involved as well.

“Moon will want to know,” Sol offered as the only explanation and he wondered if she was being obtuse on purpose.

“Why would my work partner’s romantic partner care about the whereabouts of Leonardo Pascual?”

“Because he’s doing Moon’s show!” Sol squealed.

“Right!” How bloody hell had he managed to forget that? Because he wasn’t in London, that was why.

It was no secret Luke didn’t enjoy traveling and he preferred to remain in his hometown at all times. And that wasn’t only because London was, objectively, a superior city. He also thought better and in general tended to be less distracted when he was in London—and distracted was very much how he felt at the moment. Especially since Sol was looking particularly ravishing that evening with her soft brown hair up in a low knot and wearing a figure-hugging long-sleeved black dress.

“Luke?” She must have realized that he was checking her out because she was smiling conspiratorially. “I’m going to call Divya.”

Sol

She couldn’t avoid relishing the way he looked at her like she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, even if that was hardly the place—or occasion—to be thinking about that. But it was almost as if she still couldn’t quite believe her luck. Not only because after two divorces she’d almost given up on relationships and had had trouble believing Luke was really interested in her romantically—she was ten years older than him, let’s not forget that. But also because even after those many months they’d spent as a couple and having moved in together, the passion seemed to be alive and not showing any signs of strain—something that hadn’t happened in Sol’s previous committed relationships.

But she left those thoughts for a more appropriate time—when the police weren't about to barge in—and called Divya. The detective answered after a couple of rings.

“How’s Barcelona treating you?” Divya’s strong Manchester accent welcomed Sol.

“Pretty well—until a couple of minutes ago.” Sol wasn’t sure exactly how to tell Divya about the situation. She was pacing up and down Leonardo’s small and stuffy dressing room when she eyed Luke. He’d produced a couple of nitrile gloves out of thin air and was snooping around everywhere, after having taken a few pictures of the place, and of the creepy note on the mirror.

“Something happened? You two all right?” There was a hint of anxiousness in Divya’s voice.

“We’re okay. Don’t worry. But I think you may want to call Moon. You know we were catching Leonardo Pascual’s play tonight?”

“He was doing the closing night of the play before he starts at Moon’s new show for Meshflixx on Monday, wasn’t he?”

That had been the reason why Sol had wanted to call Divya. Luke’s detective partner had been having a relationship for a few months with Moon, one of the producers of Leonardo’s upcoming show.

“It was supposed to be like that, yes. But here’s the thing. He never showed up for the play. And he seems to be missing from his dressing room.”

“Missing?”

Sol must have not been explaining herself in a clear manner. Divya didn’t seem to understand.

“Missing,” Sol carefully pronounced each syllable in that word. “And there’s a weird note here saying we won’t reach him in time and maybe insinuating some ransom is needed. Could you let Moon know?”

“What’s that about a note and ransom, then? And I hate to be a pain, but is Luke there, perhaps? I’d love a quick word with him.” Divya’s voice tightened with frustration.

“Why? You think he’ll give you more information than me?”

“I was hoping he would, yes. No offense, Sol, but you’re making no sense.”

Sol was about to hand her lover the phone when the door to the dressing room opened. Her heart jumped to her throat and she practically squealed as fear snapped through her.

3

Sol