I wasn’t sure how Cooper had managed to shave thirty-five minutes off our flight time, and I didn’t want to know. Sinclair’s car was waiting on the tarmac for us when we landed, and the four of us piled in and took off.
Sinclair made that car move, getting us to the mansion in record time. Before we could even get to the front door, it was yanked open and Marc was framed in the doorway.
“It’s about damned time!”
“If you wrote your emergency messages in English, we would have been back three days ago. Where’s Laura? Where’s Tina? What’s going on?”
“I haven’t seen Tina in days. I think Laura might have done something.”
We followed him through the house. “What’s she been doing?”
“You might as well see for yourself. Because even I don’t believe it, and I’ve seen it.”
He stiff-armed the door to the parlor, which swung open.
Sinclair, Jessica, and I stared at the goings-on.
He was right. I didn’t believe it.