“Sir, I must ask—”
“Fuck you,” I said savagely, hanging up the phone and slamming it down so hard on my desk that the screen cracked. Seconds later, my door opened and Maggie rushed in with a concerned look on her face.
“Mr. West! What was that?”
“Get me the police,” I said. “And don’t dare say a word to anyone else.”
Maggie’s lined face turned white, but she nodded and scurried quickly back to her desk. In a few moments, I saw the red light flashing on my office phone.
“Hello?”
“This is the Boston Metropolitan Police,” a gruff voice said in my ear.
“This is James West,” I replied. “And I need to file a missing person’s report for Hanna Parker.”
***
As much as I’ve always distrusted cops, I had to admit that the Boston police department seemed much more capable – and faster – than I’d imagined. They showed up at Magnate Group in ten minutes, where I pulled them into Hanna’s office and unlocked her computer with the master key.
“She’s missing,” I said. “And I know it has something to do with this.”
It was painful to be sitting in Hanna’s desk chair, inhaling the traces of her floral scent. As I frantically typed search after search in her email account, I had a horrifying thought – suppose I was already too late? Between Danielle’s misconception and my colossal stupidity, I wondered if I’d never see Hanna again. No, I thought as I finally stumbled upon the message I was looking for. That can’t be it. The stalker wants something else…but first, they want to scare me into thinking that Hanna is in true danger.
As much as I tried to tell myself that Hanna would likely be fine for the immediate future, I couldn’t quell the sense of panic and urgency that I felt rising inside of me.
“This is the message,” I said, stepping back from the computer and letting the cops take a look. “Someone pretending to be pregnant with my child.”
One of the detectives blinked. “And why would that have anything to do with the missing Ms. Parker?”
I stared at him for a long moment until he went red in the face.
“Oh,” he muttered. “Right. Were you and Ms. Parker exclusively involved, or was she seeing anyone else?”
“We were exclusively involved,” I said miserably. “And I’ve ruined everything.”
The detective – his name was Patterson – brought me down to the station where we went over seemingly every detail of my relationship with Hanna in excruciating detail. Just as I was finishing up, another cop barged in.
“Patterson,” he grunted. “We need you for something else.” The second cop looked at me with obvious disdain as Patterson got to his feet and lumbered out of the room.
“Wait,” I said impatiently. “Where are you going?”
Patterson rolled his eyes. “You can go,” he said. “We’ll call you when there’s a development.”
And just like that, I knew the cops would be completely useless.
As soon as I was outside of the station, I pulled my phone out and called the Boston private investigator that Andrew had hired weeks ago.
“This is James West,” I said quickly. “And I need your help.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hanna
I was in a dark forest, walking slowly through the cold woods. My hands and feet were freezing, and when I looked down, I saw that somewhere along the way I’d lost my shoes. That’s weird, I thought to myself as I stumbled on. When did that happen?
There was noise – lots of strange noise, almost like a party – coming from all around me but no matter which direction I turned, it never seemed to get any louder or softer.
“Hello,” I called loudly. “Is anybody there?”
The noise grew fainter and I began to shiver. Wrapping my arms around myself, I leaned against the trunk of a tree to catch my breath. For some reason, I wasn’t dressed for the cold – I was wearing a bright red satin party dress that clung to my body and made it almost difficult to breathe.
“Hello,” I called again, my voice rising into a high-pitched shriek. “Help me, please! I’m lost!”
Sniffling, I wiped my nose on the back of my hand and pressed on. The sky was dark and full of clouds, but a strong wind was blowing them across the night sky with alarming speed. I caught glimpses of the bright, bone-white moon looming in the sky and the sight filled me with hope.
“Danielle,” I yelled. “Are you there? It’s me, Hanna!”
There was no reply. By now, my feet were so cold that I felt like pins and needles were running up and down my legs each time I took a step. My hands were frozen and clammy and I wrapped my arms around my body, tucking my hands into my armpits in a desperate bid for warmth.
“Why didn’t I wear something warmer,” I muttered under my breath as I stumbled and nearly fell over a downed tree. “I’m going to freeze to death if I don’t find someone soon!”
That was when I saw him.
James was standing there, his unruly hair ruffling in the breeze. He was wearing a warm winter coat over a dark suit, and save for the dim light of the moon, I could barely make out his features.
“James?” I asked quietly, stepping closer.
James didn’t say anything. His face looked cold and arrogant, with his strong jaw clenched in the moonlight.
“James, it’s me,” I said hesitantly, taking another small step towards him.
“I don’t know you,” James said in a chill, monotonous voice.
“It’s me,” I insisted. “Hanna! Hanna Parker!”
James only stared at me with steely eyes. “I don’t know you,” he repeated. “Now, leave me alone.”
The trees began to shake and twist as the wind howled around them. My hair was blowing in relentless tangles across my face and I had to push it away with both hands. Dust and dirt swirled in the tempestuous breeze, making it hard for me to breathe and stinging my eyes. I began to cough and choke, covering my mouth with both hands as my eyes filled with tears.
“James,” I gasped. “Please, James – you have to help me, I’m in trouble!”
But when I opened my eyes, James was gone.
***
The pain in my head was staggering – it was so intense that when I tried to open my eyes, I immediately cried out in agony. I couldn’t remember ever being in such pain before: it was like I’d died, and somehow come back from the other side, battle wounds intact. Everything hurt. My arms hurt, my legs hurt – even my hair seemed to hurt. And most frustratingly of all, I couldn’t move. My arms were useless limbs at my sides, and my legs were twisted together underneath my body.
God, Hanna, you really overdid it with the drinking, I thought, swinging my body and trying to move my feet underneath me. But it didn’t work – something was wrong. For a horrible moment, I wondered if I’d been the victim of some cruel and tragic accident resulting in my paralysis.