A Missing Heart by Shari J. Ryan
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
By the time I’m polishing my manuscript, I realize how many amazing people I have on my team, and I’m so grateful.
Lisa, you have been my glue for the last couple of years and I can’t imagine completing a book without you. Thank you for always knowing how to finish my sentences.
Katie, I’m very grateful to have added you to my team throughout the last several books. Your eye for detail is unmatchable and it offers me comfort to know I have you on my side.
Stephanie and Renee—my go-to ladies, thank you for always being there for me, always boosting me up, and always trying to help me succeed. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.
Linda, if we each had a drink for every time I had a silly question or forgot something, we’d both be one big party all day, every day. Thank you for constantly being there for me and running my books like a tight ship.
Barb, I’m so grateful for our friendship, our daily conversation, and always having someone to ping ideas off. Our friendship means the world to me.
My beta readers, you all have literally taken part in assisting me with this book. Your feedback and criticism has been beyond constructive and I hope with the help you offered, I have made this book the best it can be. Thank you for your time and support, Annelle, Heather, Jocelyn, Alissa, Erin K., Tammy, Michele, Belinda, Barb, Renee, Erin D., Kelly and Tanya. LOVE YOU, LADIES!
I’ve worked with many bloggers over the years and I’ve come to know some of the owners/co-owners personally and now call you my friends. Thank you for your continuous support and love for my books. I wish I could give you all hugs in person! Just to name a few: Mila from Kubbies, Crystal from Bookalicious, Emily from Southern Vixens, and Tatiana from TB Cooper.
A special thanks to Albert Marano Jr. from the Warwick Police Department for answering my dispatcher questions and helping with a couple of my scenes.
My family and friends, thank you for accepting my weirdness and obsession with words and your undying support for what I love to do. You motivate me in ways I can never verbally explain, but I’m grateful for the immense amount of love I have in my life.
Mom, Dad, Mark, and Ev, I feel like I run out of ways to say thank you sometimes, but there’s never a day that goes by when I don’t feel eternally grateful to know how much you all believe in me.
Lori, my number one reader, sister, and best friend, thank you for always picking up my pieces, and your understanding when I disappear off the face of the earth.
Boys, thank you for always being so proud of me and telling the world I’m an author. You’re both so young to understand how much I love what I do, but when you tell me you want to be authors someday, it makes my heart feel overjoyed to know I’ve taught you what it looks like to be passionate about something.
Josh, thank you for putting up with my constant stress, frustration, panic attacks, and the outbursts I offer loudly on a daily basis while writing. I love you more than ever for still smiling at me with adoration while I’m acting like a child whose dolls won’t play nicely together. You may think I’m crazy, but you keep that to yourself and…I’m pretty sure that’s what true love is.
PROLOGUE
Thirteen Years AGO
“IT’S JUST DOWN this road,” I tell Cammy, bracing my hands tightly on the steering wheel to maneuver around the many bumps and rocks this road has accumulated over the years.
She scoots in closer across the flat bench of my pick-up truck and rests her head on my shoulder. “We probably shouldn’t be driving down here. I think this is a private road, isn’t it?” she asks.
“Yeah, but I don’t think anyone lives down here,” I reply.
Through the corner of my eye, I see her staring at the side of my face with her perfect smile. “You’re always looking for trouble, AJ,” she says with a laugh, sounding unsettled.
“Only when I’m with you,” I tease, peeking over at her briefly.
We pull up to a large country house, old and run-down, buttery yellow with a faded white wraparound porch. “You brought me to a house?” Cammy asks with confusion.
“It’s not the house that’s important, it’s what’s behind the house,” I tell her. “I’ve been down here before.” Hunter and I used to ride bikes down here when we were younger, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve never seen anyone go in or out of this house. If someone does live here, they never cared much about me sneaking into their backyard.
“This is making me kind of nervous,” Cammy says, clenching her hand tightly around mine.