Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I remember she woke me up earlier and wanted to run the lake trails to see the sunrise. I told her to give me a minute, but shit, I must have fallen back asleep.
Lifting my head off the pillow, I see her phone. I sit up and grab it from the bedside table where it is plugged in. The battery must have died again, so she left it to charge. The song keeps playing, and the message light is blinking ten missed calls. The time reads 6:14am.
Scratching my chest, I decide to answer it. “Hello,” I mumble into the phone as I balance it on my shoulder and situate myself on the bed.
I’m surprised to hear Serena’s voice instead of Grace’s. “River?” she asks and then she’s oddly silent.
I flop my head back on the pillow and stretch out. “Serena? What’s . . .” I start to say when she interrupts, “I need to talk to Dahlia.” Her voice is a little off, and she sounds sad or nervous, I’m not sure which.
Taking the phone in my hand, I sit back up immediately. “Serena she’s not here. She went running. Is everything okay? Is it Grace?” I have to ask, but pray it’s not.
“River you need to find her. We need to talk to her now.” Her tone is urgent, and I have to know what’s going on.
With concern clear in my voice, I ask, “Serena, what’s going on? What’s the matter?”
Her voice is muffled through the phone for a few seconds, and I can’t really hear what she’s saying when Grace gets on the phone.
“River, we’ve called the police,” she tells me, her voice quivering as she speaks.
“Grace, I’m lost. What do you need the police for?”
“Didn’t she tell you?”
My heart is racing, and I really just want her tell me what the fuck she’s talking about. “Grace, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”
“I left Dahlia three messages last night. They let him out on a technicality.”
“Grace, who did they let out?”
“The man who shot Ben. He’s out,” she’s telling me this and I’m trying to process what’s going on.
I look at Dahlia’s phone and hit the home button. I see three messages from Grace that haven’t been listened to, and fifteen missed calls from Grace and Serena.
“Grace, she hasn’t listened to your messages yet.”
She’s crying and I think she is unable to speak but she manages, “Hold on.”
Caleb gets on the phone. “Hey man. Where is she? I’m not sure what’s going on but we need to keep an eye on her.”
I’m trying not to get annoyed at this prick and his use of the word ‘we’ as I answer, “She went running. What the fuck is going on?”
I can hear him inhale a deep breath, “Look man, I think the guy that shot Ben is looking for something. I drove by Dahlia’s house last night just to check on it, and someone broke in again. I drove over to your house looking for her, but they wouldn’t let me in the gate and neither of you answered their calls. I called your sister and she gave me your number. I called you all fucking night.”
I bolt out of bed and look frantically around for my pants. Running to the bathroom, I find them on the floor. I pull them on and find my phone still in the pocket. My hands are trembling. “Caleb, I’ll call you back when I find her,” I tell him and hang up.
Calling hotel security, I hastily explain the situation. Whether it’s necessary or not to send someone to find her, I have no fucking idea, but I want her found now.
Just as I throw on my shirt and sneakers and head for the door, the hotel phone rings. I’m torn between answering it and running out to find her but since I did call security, I turn around and go back. I silently pick the phone up.
“Mr. Wilde?”
“Yes,” I answer with concern clearly in my voice.
“Sir, we’d like you to come down to the lobby and we’ll escort you to the hospital.”