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The Other Mrs. Carter Reported Him Missing Too Novel Cover

The Other Mrs. Carter Reported Him Missing Too

After seven years of marriage, Claire is shattered when her husband, Evan, vanishes. Her search for answers takes a bizarre turn when she discovers Nina, a woman claiming to be married to the exact same man. To uncover the truth of Evan's massive financial theft and frame-up, Claire must ally with Nina's hostile, rugged brother, Marcus. Together, they unravel a web of deep deception, sparking a powerful, unexpected bond amidst the wreckage of betrayal.
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Chapter 3

Twenty minutes later, I shoved my shoulder against the splintering wood of Room 302. The door banged open, hitting the drywall with a loud crack.

A harsh wave of cheap floral perfume hit my face.

"Evan!" I shouted, stepping over the threshold.

Silence answered. The room was empty. The bedsheets were stripped, the closet doors hung wide open, and not one piece of luggage remained.

"He's not here," Marcus said. He filled the doorway with his massive frame, glaring at the vacant space.

Nina pushed past her brother, clutching Lily to her chest. "Evan? Honey, are you in the bathroom?"

She rushed toward the open bathroom door, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.

"Nobody is in there," I said, scanning the bare dressers.

I marched toward the bed. My shoe connected with a glass vodka bottle. It spun across the stained carpet and clinked against the metal leg of the nightstand.

I dropped to my knees, sweeping my hand under the cheap furniture. My fingers brushed against stiff paper.

I pulled it out. A torn boarding pass.

"Flight to Mexico City," I read aloud, standing up. I shoved the torn paper toward Nina's face as she emerged from the bathroom. "Is this where you two planned to run off with my money?"

Nina slapped my hand away. "I don't know anything about Mexico. He told me he was going to a tech conference in Chicago."

"Chicago is in the opposite direction," I said. "And Evan hates the cold."

"You don't know him," Nina sneered. She adjusted the toddler on her hip. "You just stalk his credit cards."

"I pay his credit cards," I corrected her.

Marcus walked past me, his heavy shoes thudding against the floorboards. He crouched near the bathroom door, reaching under the edge of the sink.

He stood up, holding a small, velvet-covered box.

"What is that?" Nina asked, taking a step inside.

Marcus flipped the lid open. "Empty."

He turned it over, reading the gold foil stamped on the bottom. "Cartier."

I marched over and snatched it from his rough palm. I traced the logo with my thumb.

"That matches the fifteen thousand dollar charge on his platinum card," I said, staring directly at Nina. "The one from last Tuesday. I told you about it at the station."

Marcus spun toward his sister. His jaw tightened. "Did he give you a ring, Nina?"

"No," she stammered, shrinking back against the doorframe. "I swear, Marcus. I've never seen that box before."

"Do not lie to me," Marcus growled. He closed the distance between them, pointing a thick finger at her face. "You told me he was broke this month. You asked me to cover your rent."

"He was broke!" Nina cried. She bounced a fussy Lily, trying to soothe the whining child. "He said the startup was bleeding cash. He hasn't given me a dime in three weeks."

I laughed. The harsh, bitter sound echoed off the cheap motel walls. "Bleeding cash? He just cleared half a million in Series A funding. I signed the release forms myself."

Marcus stared at his sister. The unshakeable loyalty in his dark eyes finally fractured. He shifted his weight, crossing his muscular arms slowly.

"He told me he was working late every night this week," I said, stepping closer to Nina. "What did he tell you?"

"He was home every night," Nina fired back, her chin raised. "He cooked dinner for Lily and me."

"Bullshit," I said. "I have the security footage from our driveway. He pulled in at midnight on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday."

Nina opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She glanced at Marcus, seeking backup, but he was staring at the empty ring box on the bed.

"If he was home with you," I pressed, "then who was he buying a fifteen-thousand-dollar ring for? Because it clearly isn't on your finger."

Nina hid her left hand behind Lily's back. "He was probably saving it for my birthday."

"Your birthday is in October," Marcus interrupted.

Nina snapped her head toward him. "Whose side are you on

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