He should wake him, ask to help. Tell him Daisy was his mother, that he should be on watch with her. Sharing the duties.
He started forward, then stopped himself. What was he going to do? Wait? There were no answers here. She wouldn’t know he was there. She wouldn’t want to meet him like this.
Out then, into the Nashville evening again. To the drunken girls wandering Lower Broad and the anonymity of the tourist-packed streets, the vast sameness of it all.
He tried to lose himself. He walked the streets of SoBro for an hour, one thought purling through his mind.
He wanted Aubrey back. How was he going to get her back?
He drove his rental to the Sheraton, booked a room for the night. He took the elevator up to a space that was a replica of every hotel room he’d ever been in, took a shower, lay on the bed. How royally had he fucked up?
He should call her. Call and beg to come back over, to talk. To explain again, to find a way to make her understand. To find a way to keep her safe.
He didn’t care about any of it, just knew that the thought of never seeing her again made him quiver in pain. He could fix this. He knew he could.
He started to dial her number, but hesitated. He shouldn’t ask permission; he should just go over there, sweep her into his arms, use his body to explain. He had to do something to shake off this hideous feeling of dread that he was about to lose everything.
Because if he truly did lose Aubrey for good, he’d never forgive himself.
There was a knock at the hotel room door. He thought about ignoring it, but whoever it was, anything would be a welcome distraction from his current thoughts.
He set down the phone and flung open the door, only to be greeted by a familiar face.
“Hello, Chase.”
CHAPTER 58
Aubrey
Five Years Ago
When Nashville Metro stood her in front of the white board for her mug shot, Aubrey cringed. She couldn’t believe they’d arrested her. How they could think she’d murdered Josh?
The minute the cops figured out that she had a juvie record, they started pushing her, hard, and she lost it. On went the cuffs. It was unfair, and frightening, and she didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Arlo had hooked her up with a defense attorney who worked at the firm he’d interned in. The firm encouraged pro bono work, and so the lawyer was jovial, albeit a little reserved. His name was Hornby. Reginald Hornby. Call me Reg. He met with her on a Thursday, when it looked like the cops might actually try to press charges against her, nearly a week after Josh had disappeared. Asked all sorts of questions.
What was your relationship like?
Not was like, is like. It’s very good. We love each other. We’ve loved each other for years, since we were kids.
And do you argue?
Like everyone, we have occasional spats. Nothing serious.
Money issues?
Of course. Josh is in medical school. It’s expensive. But we have a budget, stick to it. Nothing unmanageable.
And you work a second job to help make ends meet?
Yes. Is that a bad thing?
No, no, just asking. Trying to get to know you and your relationship.
Aren’t you going to ask if I did it?
Nope. I don’t want to know.
What do you mean, you don’t want to know?
First rule of criminal defense, Mrs. Hamilton. The less I know about exactly what and how you committed the crime, the better.
For the record, I didn’t. This is all bullshit.
Of course it is, dear. Now. Was your husband seeing anyone else?
Are you kidding? Of course not. He wouldn’t cheat on me. He wouldn’t.
Don’t get upset. I need to cover all the bases. Did he have any vices? Drugs? Alcohol? You know how these med students like their speed.
My husband would never do drugs. We have experience with that, in our family, and he knows what a bad road it is.
All right. He sounds like a pretty nice guy. Now, I need to hear everything about the night Josh disappeared. Start to finish.
And so she told him.
CHAPTER 59
Josh
Five Years Ago
Josh looked at his watch for the tenth time in ten minutes and tapped his fingers on the banister.
“Aubrey, come on already. We’re going to be late.”
“I’m coming, hon. Minor hair disaster.”
“When is it not?” he murmured.
“I heard that.”
A moment later, Aubrey appeared at the top of the stairs. Bedecked in a simple pink sheath, her curly dark blond hair piled on her head, a simple strand of pearls around her neck, she looked stunning, and highly annoyed.
“You’re breathtaking,” he said, and she shot him one of her most sardonic looks as she came down the stairs. She was wearing heels, and clung to the banister, which he found incredibly funny. He’d thought all women were born with an innate ability to totter around on those stupid stilettos, but his wife proved otherwise. Get her out of sneakers, clogs, or flip-flops and she had all the grace of an elephant on roller skates.