"What are you looking at?" Evan asks.
"Oh, just looking at some designs," Avery says casually, quickly hiding the magnifying glass under a pillow on the sofa.
"I finished making the recording for Nanny," Evan says, passing her the pen. "Is it okay?"
Avery takes the pen, but she pauses before hitting the playback button. What if Evan has recorded some sort of threat? Knowing him, he might threaten Bryan's career. Or maybe he'll Nanny he's forbidding Avery from visiting until she wakes up. She chews her lip nervously, hoping that Evan hasn't recorded something awful.
"Go on," Evan says.
Avery presses the button, and the pen beeps. She tries again, but the recording doesn't play. The pen beeps again and asks her to enter a password.
"Why did you put a password on it?" Avery asks. "How will the nurse play it for Nanny if there's some secret password?"
"It's a secret," Evan said, raising his eyebrows. "Besides, the password is only valid for seven days. In a week, the password will go away, and the recording will be accessible. Now, you haven't forgotten your promise to beg me, right?"
A loud crash comes from across the room. Robert has knocked a vase off of a shelf, and the porcelain has shattered all over the floor. Two servants rush in and begin to sweep up the mess. Robert walks up to Evan and shoots a nervous look at Avery.
"Mr. Howel, I have some sensitive news for you," Robert says.
"Go ahead and tell me," Evan says, running his fingers through Avery's hair.
Robert presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows at Evan. Avery can tell he wants her to leave. She stands up and stretches her hands above her head.
"I'm feeling a bit tired—I think I'll go back to my room," she says.
Evan watches Avery leave and scowls at Robert. He was looking forward to a quiet night with Avery, and now Robert has interrupted that.
"This better be good," Evan says.
"Sir, some fishermen claim they've seen Charles Meyer," Robert says. "Do you want to go there in person?"
"Get everything ready at once," Evan says, standing up.
He rushes to Avery's room in the North Wing and finds her lying on one of the sofas, looking at the same drawings from before. She raises her head and looks at him. Concern and confusion fill her light eyes.
"Is everything okay?" she asks Evan.
"Yes," he says.
"When are you coming back?" she asks.
"As soon as possible," he whispers.
He slides a finger under her chin and tilts her head up to him. Then he bends over and kisses her on the lips. She kisses back immediately, and the feel of her soft lips against his is overwhelming. He slips his tongue into her mouth and brushes it against hers. His body screams at him to continue, but he pulls away. He kisses her forehead, smiles slightly and leaves her in the parlor.
Jessica sits on the sofa and scrolls through pictures on Andrew's phone. Andrew tries to ignore her, but she keeps making comments about the pictures. Finally, Jessica goes silent, but then she begins to laugh.
"Is this the woman you're obsessed with?" Jessica asks, showing Andrew a picture of Avery. "She's pretty, I guess, but she has such a sour expression. Does she always looks like she's smelled something bad, or was that just her reaction to you?"
Andrew snatches the phone away from her. He settles back down onto the sofa and crosses his legs. His heart rapidly beats as he looks at the pictures of Avery. He scrolls through them one by one and then sets a close up picture of her face as his wallpaper.
"Excuse me, Mr. Howel," a bodyguard says, as he enters the room.
"Well, hello again," Jessica says with a flirty smile.
She's wearing a low-cut red tank top and jeans so tight they look like they've been painted on. The bodyguard sees her and blushes, and Andrew rolls his eyes. Ever since Jessica arrived, she's been flirting with his men nonstop. Jessica seems to sense the guard's embarrassment. She gets up and slides her hand up to his arm to his shoulder.
"Why are you so shy?" she asks as the young guard's face flushes bright red.
"Aww brother, he's blushing," Jessica says with a laugh. "You know it's really not fair to keep such handsome young men locked away from the world up here. "
"Shut up, Jessica," Andrew says. He looks at the bodyguard, "Well, what's the news?"
"We've found Mr. Oliver," the guard says.
"You found Jackson?" Jessica asks, digging her nails into the guard's arm. "Where is he? Hurry up and tell me! I need to go see him right now."
"Well, he's at the police station," the guard says. "He's actually been arrested."
"Arrested?" Jessica screams. "What do you mean? What happened? Tell me, you stupid man."
"My contact at the police station said he was arrested for a prostitution incident," the guard says, looking down at his black boots. "It happened at the hotel above The Palm House."
"Prostitution?" Jessica screams so loudly, Andrew worries the windows might break.
"Uh-huh, that's right," the guard says.
"That's impossible," Jessica says, but her face is almost as red as her shirt. "Jackson isn't that kind of man—he'd never do something like that. I mean, we have our problems, but he just wouldn't do that."
"I'm just telling you what my friend at the police station told me," the guard says.
"It must be the woman's fault," Jessica says. "Jackson would never do anything like that. I bet she seduced him with some cheap trick. I'm going down there immediately to see what happened."
When she runs out of the room, Andrew breathes a sigh of relief. The guard seems to relax too. If this news gets Jessica to leave the mansion, then I'm glad Jackson's been arrested, Andrew thinks. I was beginning to worry she'd never leave.
"Mr. Clifford, I have some other news too," the guard says. "There have been rumors that some fishermen have seen Charles Meyer."
"Where were these fishermen?" Andrew asks. "And when did they see Charles?"
"I'm not sure yet," the guard says. "Some of our people are investigating right now and trying to figure out the details."
Andrew leaves the study in time to find a team of four bodyguards struggling to carry Jessica's suitcases down the stairs. The men grunt and complain about the weight of the leather bags.
"Careful with those," Jessica says. She turns to Andrew and smiles a nasty little smile. "Do you want to come along too, brother?"
Andrew shakes his head, "I'm going somewhere else, but good luck at the station."
Gabrielle sits side by side with Jackson in the interrogation room. The walls are painted a dirty shade of beige, and the hard, flat chair digs into her back. There's a handcuff on her right wrist connected to a long chain on the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she looks at Jackson. He seems completely unconcerned by the prostitution charges and the handcuff. She wonders if this sort of thing is normal for him.
"Tell me again about the credit card," the officer says.
"The card belongs to me," Gabrielle answers honestly. "I've already said that."
"I didn't ask you," the officer says. "I asked the man."
Jackson shrugs and answers, "It's her card."
"Do you mean it was her card all along, or you gave it to her in payment for her s.e.x.u.a.l services?" the officer asks.
Gabrielle can feel her face darkening. She doesn't understand why the officer refuses to believe that she's not a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e. She wishes that her name was written on the card so she could prove that it's hers.
"Don't you dare say that again," Jackson shouts. "I didn't hire a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e. I clearly don't need to."
The officer pounds a fist into the table. Gabrielle flinches back, but Jackson looks calm as ever. A speaker on the ceiling crackles, and a voice come through.
"The man's family is here to bail him out," the voice says.
Gabrielle looks at Jackson. His lips were pressed into an arrogant smirk, and he winks at Gabrielle as if to say I-told-you-so. She grinds her teeth and takes a deep breath.
She was hoping the police would accuse Jackson of r.a.p.e, but they refuse to listen to her side of the story. They've already been in the station for hours, and she's starting to wonder if she'll ever be allowed to leave. She can feel a cold sweat creep over her skin every time she thinks about spending the night in the station.
"Can you ask your family to bail me out, too?" Gabrielle asks Jackson. "It's only fair. They may not believe me, but you know what you did."
Gabrielle knows she can't call her own family—they'd probably side with the police. If she explained everything about the accident and Jackson's fake amnesia, they'd be even more angry with her. She thinks about calling Avery, but she's not entirely sure where Avery is. Besides, the thought of explaining everything to Avery makes her want to die with shame.
"No, I won't," Jackson says, sounding like a stubborn child. "Why should I? You just told the officers that you don't know me."