Love Rents A Room
Chapter 100: Causing Trouble

Jeffrey frowned. He had no particular fondness for Jonathan’s daughter, but Joanne loved that girl like her own. If Charlotte was truly missing, Joanne would be devastated.

"Did you check with her friends? The places she usually hangs out?"

Jonathan gave a short nod. "I did. Nothing. It’s not like her to disappear like this." His voice wavered slightly, and for the first time, Jeffrey saw something raw beneath his polished exterior—genuine fear.

Jeffrey crossed his arms, studying him. "Is it possible she saw Nina’s post?"

Jonathan’s face darkened.

Charlotte adored Joanne. That much was obvious. She had wanted nothing more than to see Joanne as her mother, to have her in their family. Jonathan destroying that possibility wouldn’t have sat well with her.

"She saw it," Jonathan admitted after a pause. "She came to me. She was furious. I tried to explain, but she wasn’t listening. She stormed out." He let out a harsh breath, rubbing his jaw. "I thought she’d run to Joanne. When I heard what happened here, I came straight over. But if she’s not here..." His voice trailed off, his eyes clouding with dread.

Jeffrey clenched his jaw. This wasn’t good.

Jonathan’s entire frame seemed to deflate as the weight of the situation settled over him. He had already lost his wife. Charlotte was all he had left. The fear in his eyes wasn’t just concern—it was terror.

Jeffrey sighed, his voice turning firm. "Jonathan, talk to the cops. Put out an APB, an Amber Alert. Charlotte’s smart. She’ll be safe, but you need to act fast."

Jonathan’s gaze flickered up to him, surprised at the unexpected reassurance. Jeffrey didn’t know why he was comforting him, considering he couldn’t stand the guy, but right now, that didn’t matter.

Jonathan swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah... I should do that."

Just then, the door clicked open.

Joanne stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with alarm. "Charlotte is missing?"

Jonathan stiffened, his expression betraying a flicker of something—guilt, regret, or perhaps something deeper. He hesitated before answering, his voice subdued. "...Yes."

Joanne didn’t waste a second. "Then let’s find her!" she declared, already moving. "Did you check my house? There should be cops there now—" She barely finished her sentence before stepping into the hall, her urgency palpable.

"My phone!" she called out, looking around.

Jeffrey let out a slow, measured breath. He knew there was no stopping her now. He could argue, scold her for not resting, for pushing herself so soon after everything she had been through—but he knew better.

This was Joanne. Selfless, relentless, determined.

One of the many reasons he had fallen for her.

Jeffrey ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The best thing he could do now was stay by her side—because, truth be told, he couldn’t stay away from her even if he tried.

But just as they stepped into the hallway, a man in a dark suit blocked their path, flashing a badge.

"We need to talk, Ms. Smith," Agent Barnes said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Joanne arched a brow. "The feds are handling this case now?" That was unexpected. And from the agent’s stiff posture, she highly doubted this was a simple conversation. "What is this about?"

Agent Barnes didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him.

Joanne didn’t budge. She turned to Jeffrey. "Call my lawyer. I’m not going anywhere without my lawyer."

The agent’s patience thinned. He reached for her arm, attempting to usher her forward.

"Ah..." Joanne wobbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. "My head’s spinning. I think I need an MRI this time," she murmured weakly, turning back toward her hospital room while gripping the wall for support.

Immediately, nurses rushed to her side, their expressions sharp as they glared at the agent. He took a step back, forced to relent when the medical staff shielded Joanne. With a clenched jaw, he muttered something about waiting until she was cleared by the doctor.

Jeffrey finished his call with her lawyer, then wrapped a steadying arm around her, guiding her back into the room.

"I’ll check my cameras and let you know," Joanne said before entering the room. She was sure Charlotte was either at her office or at the farm. In the confusion, others might have missed her. She felt certain she would be captured on one of her cameras.

More than worrying about what the federal agency wanted with her, she prioritized finding Charlotte first. That poor girl must be crying alone somewhere. Or God forbid, what if something bad happened to her and she needed help? Her heart went out to that little girl.

Jonathan nodded, clearly distressed. Aside from his daughter’s missing, whatever happened around Joanne was not right. But when his gaze landed on the way Jeffrey touched Joanne—his hand at the small of her back, his movements effortless, familiar, his jaw tightened.

-----

Philip Winchester strode into the police precinct with the effortless command of a man who owned the very ground he walked on. He didn’t bring a lawyer. He didn’t need one.

The moment he spotted Fiona in the waiting area—her face blotched with tears, hands trembling as she clutched her purse—his expression softened, if only for a moment.

He walked over, placing a firm yet comforting hand on her shoulder. "I’ll get him out. Don’t you worry, Fiona," he murmured, his voice gentler than anyone would expect from a man like him.

But as he turned away, that fleeting kindness vanished, replaced by simmering fury. His presence alone was enough to make officers straighten, their gazes flickering with unease.

"Who’s the agent in charge here?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the precinct like a whip.

A heavy silence followed before the precinct captain emerged from his office, irritation clear in his furrowed brow. But the moment he registered who stood before him, his annoyance faded into cautious deference. Clearing his throat, he motioned toward his office.

"Mr. Winchester," he said, his tone measured, "let’s talk inside."