BuzzNovelChapter 167
They arrived at the Red House.
Kane and Yates had claimed the best booth in the place-prseats with a perfect view of the action.
They hadn't bothered to reserve a private room, which didn't surprise Timothy in the least; that was just typical
Kane.
Red House was one of Riverside City's most well-known clubs. At night, the main hall calive with a spectacle
of pole dancers-new faces rotated in every week, each one more stunning and alluring than the last. The show
had earned a reputation, drawing crowds from across the city and beyond.
As soon as Kane spotted Sheila, he sprang up, arms wide, swept her off her feet, and spun her around several
times. Sheila shrieked, startled, clutching at his shoulders. "Kane, putdown! Right now!"
Yates, meanwhile, lounged in his seat, having just lit a cigarette. When Timothy walked over, Yates wordlessly
offered him one. Timothy sat, and Yates flicked his lighter, holding the flsteady until Timothy's cigarette
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Kane finally set Sheila down, laughing. "Con, don't be such a spoilsport! | haven't seen you in ages-just one
hug! Timothy doesn't mind, does he? Or are you worried he'll get jealous?"
Sheila shot him a stern look. "Timothy's married now. Watch what you say."
Kane grinned, unruffled, and steered Sheila to the sofa, insisting she sit beside him. He leaned in close, eager to
catch up, as if he had a lifetof stories to share.
"How am | out of line? Don't think I've been out of town and missed all the gossip. | saw it in the news-Timothy
bought Flameheart and gave it to you, didn't he?" "Enough! Not another word." Sheila snatched a glass of wine
and shoved it into Kane's hands. "Here, drink this. Maybe it'll keep your mouth busy."
Kane, always the talker and thrilled to see Sheila after so long, pulled her into an animated conversation.
Timothy took a slow drag from his cigarette, his features thrown into sharp relief by the shifting, colored lights
overhead. The dim, moody glow flickered across his face, making him look all the more handsand
enigmatic.
He raised his glass and clinked it against Yates'. After taking a sip, Timothy asked quietly, "So, what do you need
Yates leaned back, glass in hand, his posture relaxed but his tone serious. "Vince Zimmerman askedto track
someone down."
Timothy's voice was casual. "Looking for that childhood engagement you lost?"
"Didn't take you long to guess."
"If the Zimmermans are searching for someone, who else could it be but the daughter who disappeared? They've
been looking for her for years, and | thought they'd long since given up."
Yates's gaze grew somber. "Vince says Mrs. Zimmerman's health is failing- doctors say she might not last more
than six months. Before she goes, she wants to try one last time, just in case there's still hope."
"It's been twenty years. Where do you even start?" Timothy swirled the wine in his crystal glass, brow calm. "The
Zimmermans aren't exactly short on resources. If they couldn't find her all these years, what makes them think
it'll work now?"
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Yates gave a rueful smile. "That's why I'm coming to you for help."
"I'm not a miracle worker," Timothy replied, though he didn't sound offended.
Yates lifted his glass and they toasted again.
"Con, don't sell yourself short. Other people might not know what you can do, but | do," Yates said, his voice
low and confident. "With your contacts and information network, you've got a better shot than anyone. Just do
what you can. If you actually pull it off, with the way my dad and Mr. Zimmerman are, | probably won't even get
a say in whether or not | marry her."
Timothy chuckled. "You're overthinking it. Let's see... if she's been missing for twenty years, she'd be, what,
twenty-six by now? At that age, she could already be married."
Yates shrugged, half-grinning. "That'd be a relief. Maybe it'd finally get my dad off my back."
Timothy's glass was empty. He set it down, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another drink-then paused,
catching sight of a familiar figure walking through the door, trailed by a man who bowed and scraped with every
step.
Timothy's eyes, usually calm and deep, suddenly grew dark and unreadable.
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