“Look, I don’t want to sound disrespectful, Miss Moore,” the man told Haven. “I know you and Beau Decker are from a very small town and you’ve probably led sheltered lives. But how could you let your friend visit a stranger he met online? Don’t you read the news? That’s just asking for trouble.”
Haven had tried her best to steer clear of reincarnation. Now she saw that the topic was unavoidable.
“Beau believed he knew the man who called himself Roy Bradford in a previous life. He said I knew him too. But you’re right. I should never have let Beau go.”
“Wait a second. A previous life? You really believe—” the man began.
“This is the Ouroboros Society, Agent Jackson,” Adam cut him off. “We all believe.”
“And please remember that this information is privileged, Agent Jackson,” Commissioner Williams barked. “You say you may have known this man in another existence, Miss Moore? Do you have any information that might help us identify him?”
“No,” Haven admitted. “Not yet.”
“Yet?” Agent Jackson asked.
“I’m trying to remember more of the life Beau and I shared,” Haven explained.
“And you think—”
“Agent Jackson,” Adam said firmly, “you came highly recommended, and your superiors assured me that you were a man with an open mind. But if your skepticism is going to interfere with your job, I suggest you find another case to pursue. Or perhaps a new line of work altogether.”
Even the briefest glimpse of Adam’s power was enough to silence the room.
“Thank you, Miss Moore,” Commissioner Williams finally said. “I think this has been a very productive meeting. Do you have anything else you’d like to add at this time?”
“No,” Haven said, glad the experience was almost over.
“In that case,” the man said, rising from his seat, “we will speak to Mr. Decker’s father and the NYPD officers who’ve been working on the case. We’ll find your friend, Miss Moore,” he assured her. “You can be sure of it.”
“Thank you, Gordon. I have every confidence in you,” Adam told the man. Haven detected an ultimatum in his tone. “Thank you all. You’re free to leave. I’d like to chat privately with Miss Moore.”
After the NYPD and the FBI obediently filed out of the room, Haven turned to Adam. Having seen his power put to work, it was impossible not to feel a little awestruck.
“I’m sorry about Agent Jackson,” Adam said. “He’s not one of us, and it may take him a little while to get used to the way things work around here. I hope you didn’t find his outburst discouraging.”
“Forget Agent Jackson. I’m totally thrilled. I can’t believe I just had the New York City police commissioner writing down every word I said.”
“You’re surprised?” Adam asked.
“He’s the police commissioner,” Haven replied. “I doubt he spends much time searching for nineteen-year-old boys who go missing. How did you manage to convince him to come?”
“I didn’t need to convince him. He’s a member. He volunteered.”
“To please you?”
“To earn points,” Adam corrected her. “He doesn’t know that he needs to please me. He doesn’t know who I am at all, aside from a fellow member with a bottomless account.”
“So the police commissioner is a member of the Ouroboros Society?” Haven asked, wondering how Commissioner Williams planned to spend the points he would earn. What was his secret weakness? Whatever it was, Adam must have already found it.
“Yes, he’s a member, but not a very important one. Only those in the upper ranks are aware of my role here at the Society. I’m afraid Gordon Williams will never reach such heights.”
“If the police commissioner isn’t high-ranking, who is?” Haven asked, hoping for a rare glimpse of the Society’s inner workings.
“Would you really like to know?” His smile had turned sly again.
“Absolutely!” Haven replied.
“Then come with me.”
Adam led her out of the conference room. The clock in the reception area said 6:12. Ouroboros Society business hours were over, and the children had all disappeared. In their place were three elegant young women. A curvy redheaded creature in enormous sunglasses jumped up when she saw Adam and rushed over to greet him.
“Hello!” The girl almost came close enough to peck Adam’s cheek before she caught herself and lurched backward like she’d bounced off an invisible force field.
“Good evening, Alex,” Adam said. “I apologize for making you wait. Allow me to introduce my friend Haven Moore.”
Alex removed her sunglasses, revealing a face that appeared clean-scrubbed and unremarkable. Yet Haven felt a jolt of recognition. She knew the face well. Almost everyone did. Without makeup, it could have been that of a Midwestern cheerleader. But it belonged to Alexandra Harbridge, one of the most famous young actresses in the world. Haven felt as if she’d just been introduced to someone she’d been spying on her entire life. Beau had avidly followed Alex’s career since the girl had made her acclaimed film debut at the age of thirteen. Alex had never lived up to most critics’ expectations, but at age nineteen, she was a worldwide star nonetheless. Half the romantic comedies churned out by Hollywood now featured Alex in a leading role. Most were so saccharine that they left Haven feeling physically ill, but Beau gobbled them up like bonbons. And for six years, he’d regaled Haven with tales of Alex’s disastrous relationships, emergency appendectomies, weight fluctuations, and fashion blunders.
“Haven, this is Alex Harbridge,” Adam said. “She has been kind enough to offer her help with our Society recruitment efforts this year.”
“Hi,” Haven croaked.
“Hello to you too! So sorry for butting in like this! I never pass up an opportunity to meet Adam’s friends. He knows the most fascinating assortment of people.” Alex paused, bit her lip, and grinned as if she were contemplating something naughty. “May I ask you something personal? Where did you get that dress? I noticed it the second you stepped into the lobby. Would you mind?” Alex twirled one finger, and it took Haven a moment to realize she was being asked to spin around. The gesture might have seemed obnoxious if anyone else had made it, but somehow Alex made it feel friendly and familiar.
“I designed it,” Haven said, modeling her own dress.
“You designed that?” the girl gasped. “Do you have your own fashion label? Where is your store? Can I stop by tonight?”
“I don’t have a store in New York,” Haven informed her. “I just design for myself these days.”
“How can you deprive the rest of us like that? It’s just cruel!” Few people could make such a pronouncement sound natural. For the first time, Haven knew what Beau saw in Alex. “Do you think I might be able to persuade you to sew up a little something for me?”
“I’d love to, but I’m living out of a suitcase right now,” Haven said. “I’m afraid I didn’t pack any of the supplies I’d need.”
“And you don’t think I can get my hands on a little fabric and thread? Just say yes and I’ll have everything delivered to you! And I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
Haven could see that Alex wasn’t inclined to take no for an answer, and Haven did need the money. “What would you want me to make for you?” she asked. “If I decided to do this.”
“First, I want a dress exactly like that,” Alex announced, right before inspiration seemed to strike. “Actually . . . how about a gown? Do you make gowns?”
“That depends. What kind of gown?”
“Something I can wear to the Oscars. The date is just around the corner, and I still haven’t found a single thing I like. My stylist is hopeless. I’m starting to suspect that she’s secretly employed by one of my rivals.”
“The Oscars?” Haven grimaced. Designers’ careers were made—or destroyed—on the Oscars’ red carpet. “I’m not sure I’m ready for—”
The girl clutched Haven’s arm. “Oh, please don?
??t say no! Please!” she pleaded. “Did you see what I wore when I won my Oscar for Promises, Promises? The dress with the purple ruffles? Star magazine said I looked like a teenage mutant sea slug. If I don’t come up with something good this year, I’ll never be able to show my face on a red carpet again.”
It had been a hideous gown, Haven recalled. Beau had bitched about it for weeks. He’d even unearthed one of Haven’s old Barbies, renamed her Alex, and sewn the doll a more suitable dress.
“Okay,” Haven reluctantly agreed. “I’m at the Gramercy Gardens Hotel. Room 2024. Would you have time to stop by tomorrow morning? I could take your measurements and possibly show you some sketches.”
“Perfect! Let’s say nine o’clock,” Alex announced, plugging the appointment into her phone.
“Come along, Haven,” Adam said. “I’ll walk you to the door. Alex, will you excuse us?”
“Did you do that?” Haven asked once they were out of Alex’s earshot.
“Pardon me?” Adam said. He retrieved Haven’s coat and helped her into it.
“Did you just arrange for me to meet Alex Harbridge?”
“Is that what you think?” Adam opened the mansion’s front door for her. It had started to snow, and the scene outside was a blur. Frosted with snow, the trees of Gramercy Park formed a dense white net of branches and limbs. “Did you happen to look in the mirror before you left? That dress you’re wearing is a masterpiece. You’re very talented, Haven. Why would you need any help from me?”
“Thank you for saying so, Adam. But I want you to know—I’m only taking the job so I can afford to stay in New York while I search for Beau.”
“I understand,” Adam assured her. “This is a difficult time for you. But let something good come out of a horrible experience. Your friend wouldn’t want you to throw away a diamond just because you found it in the mud. Would he?”
He wouldn’t, Haven thought as she hurried down the steps of the Ouroboros Society. In fact, she knew exactly how Beau would react if he ever got wind of Alex Harbridge’s offer. She still remembered the morning she’d shown him her acceptance letter from the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York. Beau hadn’t even paused to consider what it might mean for him—that his one and only friend would be moving a thousand miles away. Instead, he’d let out an ear-shattering victory whoop and carried Haven through their high school’s halls on his shoulders, shouting out the good news to hundreds of kids who couldn’t have cared any less.
But Beau’s approval wasn’t what mattered. His safety was Haven’s only concern now. Still, she needed money to search for him—and a movie star’s cash was as green as the next person’s. It would be fine, Haven told herself. As long as the Oscars dress remained nothing more than a job.
EAGER TO GET to work, Haven took a detour on her way back to the hotel. At a drug store on Third Avenue she bought a drawing pad. It was the price of a day’s worth of energy bars, but Haven decided to call it an investment. Outside, she stopped on the corner to sketch out some ideas. They were arriving too fast to get them all onto paper, and the snowflakes were causing the pages to warp. A rowdy group of teenagers ran past, shouting colorful insults at one another as they slid down the snow-dusted sidewalks. It looked like fun, Haven thought. She watched as a boy and a girl hung back from the rest and kissed in a shadow between the streetlights. Her inspiration deserted her, and Haven closed the drawing pad. As she made her way back to the hotel, she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for herself.
When she reached the door of her room, Haven tucked the pad into her coat pocket while she fiddled with the lock. She took one step inside the room and froze. She was certain she’d left all the lights on, yet the room was dark. She checked the outside door handle and found the DO NOT DISTURB sign still dangling there. When she looked up, she spotted a figure sitting in the armchair by the window. The light from the hallway fell across a pair of men’s shoes. Haven’s hand shot toward the switch on the wall. It wasn’t where she remembered it. As she groped in the darkness, the figure rose and made its way toward her. The man was only a few feet away when Haven’s fingers made contact with the switch.
“Keep the lights off. The curtains are open, and someone might see us.”
“Iain!” Haven gasped.
“Shhh.” Iain pushed the door closed and pulled Haven into the room. When his lips found hers, the numbness Haven had felt melted in an instant, and her body began to burn. In Iain’s arms, with the smell of his skin all around her, she was perfectly content. Nothing else mattered. She wouldn’t risk losing the feeling for anything . . . except. A quick stab of panic made her shove him back.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Iain. “How did you get into the hotel?”
“I snuck in through the delivery entrance. I had to see you.”
“I know. I miss you too, Iain, but do you realize how dangerous this is? We can spend every minute together as soon as we find Beau. Besides, we both have another meeting with the Horae tomorrow. We could have seen each other then.”
“You’re right. I promise I won’t do it again. But I needed to let you know that I’ve come up with a plan. Mia told me Padma Singh is still alive, and I think I know where to find her.”
Haven briefly wondered if all the stress had sent Iain over the edge. “Why would you want to do that?” she asked.
“Because Padma is Adam’s first huge mistake, that’s why!” It had been a while since Haven had seen him so energized. Even when he was still, he seemed to be moving. “I have no idea why he let her live. Padma kept secret files on OS members back when she was president. She knows every terrible thing they’ve ever done. If Padma still has access to the files, she has enough evidence to send half the members to prison. It would destroy the OS!”
“But Padma doesn’t want to destroy the OS,” Haven argued. “I saw her yesterday begging Adam to take her back.”
“Even better!” Iain exclaimed, clearly thrilled by the news. “If Padma saw you and Adam together, she probably lost all hope of ever being allowed back in the OS. She’ll be even more likely to help me now!”
It made sense, Haven thought as she turned to face the windows. Outside, fat flakes of snow fell down from the heavens. Far below lay a white void where Gramercy Park had been just a few hours earlier. Still, one lonely soul was out for a walk.
“Just give me one week,” Iain said. “That’s all I’m asking. Keep your distance from Adam for seven days while I try to find Padma. And if I fail, you can always go ahead with the Horae’s original plan.”
“But what about Beau?” Haven asked.
“Mia’s looking for him. The police are looking for him. And you can inhale as much of Phoebe’s smoke as you want. No one’s going to put Beau on hold. I’m only asking that you stay away from Adam.”
“I don’t have any problem with that,” Haven assured him. “But I don’t know how you’re going to convince Phoebe to go along with all of this.”
“I’ll talk to her at our meeting tomorrow, but why would she argue? If the Ouroboros Society is shut down, then that boarding school upstate will have to close. The kids Adam’s recruited will be sent home to their parents, and we’ll have enough time to come up with a better plan to get Adam into that vault.”
“I guess you’ve got everything figured out,” Haven said, trying to identify all the feelings that were clouding her thoughts. At least one of them was relief.
“Well, there is one little hitch,” Iain said.
“Oh no,” Haven sighed.
“It’s nothing major. I’ll just have to be out of touch for a while. Adam probably has people watching Padma. I’ll be careful, but if I’m spotted, I don’t want them finding a phone with your number on it.”
“You mean I’m not going to be able to talk to you for a whole week?” Haven moaned.
“Don’t worry,” Iain said. “I’ll try to find other ways to stay in touch.”
Haven felt her coat being unbuttoned and removed. The s
ketch pad in the pocket landed with a thump when Iain let the coat drop to the floor.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alex Harbridge arrived at nine on the dot with two coffees and a bag filled with croissants. Dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck, her signature copper-colored hair pinned back with a simple barrette, she seemed like any other New York girl. But Haven knew most designers would have strangled their mothers for a meeting with the actress, and she’d gone to great lengths to make sure she was ready. After Iain had departed in the wee hours of the morning, Haven stayed up sketching dresses until her new book was completely full. Then, at seven, she had found herself pleading with a tailor at a nearby dry cleaner. At seven fifteen, he finally agreed to lend Haven his measuring tape in exchange for her very last twenty-dollar bill.
“They’re all so gorgeous.” Alex sighed, paging through Haven’s illustrations. “I don’t know how you do it. I’ll never be able to choose. I’m good at a lot of things, but dressing myself has never been one of them.”
“Would you like me to make a recommendation?” Haven asked nervously.
“I’d love it.” Alex sounded relieved.
“How about something like this?” Haven flipped to a page toward the back of the sketchbook. There she’d drawn a sophisticated anklelength dress with a jeweled neckline. “I didn’t have my colored pencils with me, so you’ll just have to imagine that the fabric’s a shimmering green.”
“Am I going to look like a giant beetle?”
Haven laughed. “I’m shooting for butterfly.”
“Do you really think I could pull off a color like that?”
“With your hair? I think you’d look stunning,” Haven assured her.
“And what about my giant ass? Is there anything you can do to make it look smaller?”
Haven was beginning to like the girl. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with the size of your butt. In the right dress it could be your biggest asset.”
“Oh, it’ll be my biggest asset all right, if I don’t stop eating these things.” Alex threw herself back on the couch and bit into her second croissant. Haven wondered how much Beau would have given to see Alex Harbridge with pastry crumbs all over her sweater. “If you knew how many hours I spend in the gym every day trying to work off the crap I stuff down my throat.”