“I . . . have one in my wallet,” he replied, pulling his ball cap on over his head before reaching into his back pocket. “It was taken a year ago. It was just a stupid selfie that she took on her birthday, but it was beautiful and I . . . I made her get it printed out and . . .” Trailing off, he stared at the small photo he held in his hand.
My chest squeezed as I listened to him. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you something to drink,” I offered, wishing there was more I could do.
His unfocused gaze swung to me and he nodded absently, sitting down in the chair. Cole was on the phone, talking in a low voice. His eyes came to mine before he turned, clasping the back of his neck with one hand.
I hurried into the kitchen, startled to find James was in there. “I didn’t know you were here.”
He was placing a large pot on the counter when he looked up. “Been here for a while.”
“Angela’s missing,” I blurted out.
His aging face, full of deep grooves, seemed to pale by several shades. Dark eyes widened on me as his hands stilled on the handles of the pot.
“Her boyfriend is out there,” I explained, forcing myself to get moving. I went to the fridge.
“Damn,” he said gruffly. “That girl ain’t missed a single day of work. Not even last year when she got that damn flu bug goin’ around.”
I grabbed the pitcher of fresh tea, realizing that despite everything Mom and I had been through, we hadn’t assumed the worst when Angela hadn’t showed for work. I wasn’t sure if that was a bad or a good thing.
“Damn,” James muttered as I poured a glass of tea. “That’s some rough news.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, lifting my gaze to his.
He walked the pot over to the sink. “That’s some familiar news.”
“Yeah,” I repeated.
I couldn’t let myself focus on that last fact as I left the kitchen. By the time I got back out to the sitting area, Mom was downstairs, kneeling in front of Ethan. Her worried gaze collided with mine as I placed the glass of tea on the small end table. Cole wasn’t in the room, but I heard him speaking from the front of the inn.
“Thank you,” Ethan murmured as he picked up the glass. “I haven’t eaten or slept. Been surviving on coffee.” He took a drink and then looked at my mother. “Do you think . . . ?” His voice filled with anguish. “Do you think she’s okay?”
“Of course, honey.” Mom rubbed his bent knees. “Of course.”
His gaze lifted to where I hovered. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. The pained glaze to his eyes was mingled with horror.
“She’ll be okay,” I told him, wanting and needing to believe that myself, because I couldn’t picture otherwise. I couldn’t fathom how bubbly and happy Angela could be anything else but okay.
“You really think that?” he asked, and that was a hit to the chest.
My mouth dried. I knew what he’d meant by that question, because he knew, just like anyone who had lived in this town ten years ago, that sometimes when people went missing, there wasn’t a happy ending.
Ethan took several long sips, the glass shaking in his hand. “I checked at the college, you know, to see if her car was there. It . . . it wasn’t. I even left a message with the professor to see if she made it to class.”
“She was here yesterday,” Mom explained, rising slowly. “She worked her shift.”
I nodded, thinking of how she was bouncing around the kitchen just yesterday, eating the cookies that Jason had brought.
Cole returned, everything about him on alert. I imagined this was how he was while at work. He hung up the phone. “You have your car, Ethan?”
The young man nodded, setting the glass aside. “Yeah.”
“Okay. We’re going to drive down to the police station together,” he said as he crossed the room. “They know you’re coming in to file a report.”
“Is there anything we can do?” I asked.
“Anything,” Mom repeated.
“There is.” Cole stopped in front of me, and before I could do anything, he lowered his mouth to my ear and said, “Please stay in tonight. That’s something you can do for me.”
I found myself nodding and agreeing.
He drew back, his eyes coming to mine. “We’ll talk later.”
And once again, surprising me, he dipped his chin and kissed the curve of my cheek. Then he was at Ethan’s side, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, guiding him out.
I watched Ethan and Cole leave, then looked over at my mom, not surprised to see her eyes fixed on me. She didn’t comment on what Cole had just done, which was the only surprising part, as she leaned into me, wrapping her arm around me. I didn’t know what to say, and she seemed to understand that, like she always did.
Mom squeezed my waist. “I know.”
The insurance adjuster showed to look at my car that afternoon. Shortly after he left, a tow truck arrived to cart it off to a body shop about ten minutes down the road. I chatted with one of the guys at the garage. They figured they’d have my car finished by Tuesday.
I did as Cole requested. I stayed in, mainly because I had no reason to go anywhere. I spent the rest of the afternoon completing what Angela normally would do while hoping to hear something about her whereabouts, something good.
News about Angela’s possible disappearance spread fast even though the town wasn’t that small. After dinner was served to the Mattersons and they retired to the room they’d rented, Miranda showed up and then Jason. They joined Mom and me in the kitchen.
Miranda was sitting on the kitchen island, legs dangling off, and it was a good thing James had already left, because he would’ve kicked her butt if he saw her on the counter.
Not minding where Miranda’s rear end was, Mom sat at the table with Jason, and I stood near Miranda. All four of us had fresh coffee in our cups. There’d been nothing on the news about Angela, which was frustrating, but I imagined someone like Striker would be all over it come morning. At least, I hoped he would be spending his time on something more useful.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Miranda stated, and it was probably the fourth time she’d said it, and like all the times before, she trailed off before saying what we all were thinking.
Everyone was avoiding saying it because I was there, so I went ahead and said it. “I can’t believe this is happening again.”
She sucked in a shrill breath as Mom pressed her lips together, casting her gaze out the window, onto the dark veranda.
“That’s what everyone is thinking, right?” I said, placing my cup on the counter behind Miranda. “The woman in Frederick was missing and they . . . found her body, and now this has happened.”
“Doesn’t mean these two things are related,” Jason argued, bending forward and resting his arms on his legs. “I heard that the cops were really looking at the Frederick woman’s husband.”
“That’s what they did before,” Miranda interjected quietly. “When the first woman disappeared, they swore it was her husband. Didn’t they actually arrest him?”