Dr. Martin pulled the top of her t-shirt down and slipped the cold disc over the skin between her small breasts, sharp green eyes locking with hers. “Take a deep breath, Mia. Good, now let it out.” He had her repeat the steps several more times until she became lightheaded. “How’s your pelvis?”

  Remembering Bella’s head slamming into her, she winced. “Still sore.”

  With a deep frown, he removed the stethoscope and folded it inside his hands. “Still feeling nauseous?”

  “Not really.” At least she hadn’t until he stepped into the room.

  “Have you remembered anything new about what happened after the accident?”

  “No.” She licked her dry lips, and took a steady breath. “I’m sorry about your boat, Dr. Martin.”

  “It doesn’t matter. That’s what insurance is for.” His lips spread over dazzling white teeth. “I’m just glad you kids are alright.” Then his smile promptly disappeared. “Except for your sister, of course.”

  “She’ll show up,” Mia decided with a bolt of irritation. Everyone assumed Bella was dead. She was sure there was some kind of explanation for her sister’s disappearance, no matter how strange it would have to be, and she’d come home any minute. “Just because she’s missing doesn’t mean something bad happened.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Dr. Martin’s pat against her shoulder felt condescending. “If you ever want to talk about it with someone, I’m just a phone call away. I can prescribe medications to help you cope.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted through gritted teeth. She’d gladly suffer before she’d accept drugs from him.

  Later that afternoon, she was visited by a thick, gray-haired man with a buzz cut, wearing a somewhat wrinkled navy suit. He reminded her of her dad’s best friend from high school who’d been a lifelong Marine. Standing in her open doorway, his gray eyes assessed her like she was a puzzle to be solved. “Mia? Do you remember me? I’m Detective Elliot Sunken. Your parents said it’d be okay if I talked to you for a bit.”

  A vague recollection of his gruff voice itched against her brain. “I still don’t remember anything,” she blurted.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure your sister’s disappearance has rattled you.” He entered the room with a hesitant gait, stopping mere feet from her bed. “What can you tell me about the three young men you were with last night?”

  Worry and unease etched through her chest as she pushed off the mattress to sit. “Ben’s probably one of the nicest guys I know. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten. And Matt…well, everyone likes Matt. He’s great.” Her cheeks warmed. “I mean, he was voted homecoming king and everything.” She lifted one shoulder. “They’re both good guys. We’ve all hung out together forever.”

  “What about Tom Tribeau?”

  Her eyes temporarily slid over to the other side of the room as she shrugged. “He can be a bit of a jerk.”

  “How so?”

  “He says mean stuff to everyone.”

  “How’s his relationship with your sister?”

  “They don’t have any kind of relationship. We only hang out with Tom because he’s friends with Matt…you know, because they’re in football together, and whatever.”

  “Have you ever seen Tom angry?”

  “A few times.” With a shiver, Mia remembered the way he’d started for Liz on the beach. She took a deep breath and met the detective’s questioning gaze. “Like I said, he can be a jerk. I wouldn’t give him the time of day if he wasn’t friends with Matt.”

  “How long has Tom been with Nicole Zens?”

  “I think a few years…maybe when they were freshmen. I can’t really remember.”

  “Do they have a solid relationship?”

  “I have no idea. But he flirts with all the girls at school.”

  “Have you ever seen him flirt with Bella?”

  “Eww, no way! She thinks Tom’s a jerk too.” She shook with a sudden case of the willies. “Why would you think there was something going on between Tom and Bella? Why are you asking all these questions about him?”

  “Because someone who was there last night knows where your sister is, Mia. Your friend Ben found you covered in your sister’s blood even though he was certain she hadn’t been bleeding when the boat first crashed. I truly don’t believe you harmed her in any way. The psychiatrist that met with you at the hospital thinks you witnessed something that sent you into shock. But I wonder if there wasn’t something more involved…maybe someone you’re trying to protect. Like Ben…or even Matt.”

  Tears swarmed through Mia’s eyes. “I swear, I don’t remember anything. I wouldn’t lie about it if I really knew what happened. I wouldn’t protect them over my sister.”

  “You wouldn’t protect your friend Ben?”

  She shook her head with resolve. “He wouldn’t do anything to her!”

  “What about Tom and Matt? The sheriff found them half a mile away from the site of the crash. They claimed they were searching for help.”

  Icy fear clenched her heart. “Do you think one of them hurt Bella?”

  “I think someone did. She could be injured somewhere…or worse. Your parents say she’s not the type to pull a stunt like this for attention.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Then I won’t stop searching for answers until she’s found.” He plucked a business card from inside his suit jacket. “If you remember anything about last night, no matter how big or small of a detail, give me a call.”

  Air deflated from her lungs as she took the card and watched him leave. Would Matt or Tom have hurt Bella? She’d never liked Tom—never trusted him. But was he capable of what the detective was suggesting? Thinking of Bella being all alone in a strange place, hurt or even dead, destroyed her last remaining thread of hope.

  She called Ben. In a heartbeat he was there, slipping into her bed at her side, gaze achingly soft and comforting. Cocooned in his embrace, she cried onto his chest until she fell asleep.

  Anger zinged through Ben as he watched his father pitch boxes into the back of the station wagon. After leaving Mia’s house, he’d returned to find the car nearly packed full of their things, and his father declared they were moving to Louisiana. “I don’t understand. Why do we have to go to Louisiana? Why now?”

  His father wouldn’t look at him. “Your grandmother needs us.”

  Ben didn’t know his father’s mother very well. They had only visited her a handful of times when he was too young for school. “Why? What happened?”

  “Doesn’t matter! We don’t turn our back on family!”

  Ben gave a defiant shake of his head. He refused to leave Mia. He couldn’t. She meant the world to him, and Bella’s disappearance had destroyed her. If he couldn’t raise her spirits, no one else could. And what happened if Bella were to turn up dead? He had to stay. “You go. I’ll find a way to meet up—”

  His father spun to him, eyes as dark as coal as he struck Ben across the face with a closed fist. Dazed, Ben held a hand over his pounding jaw, flexing it to see if it felt broken. His father had never hit him anywhere that would leave a visible mark.

  “Don’t question me, boy! Get your shit packed and get it in this car A-SAP! We’re leavin’ in ten minutes!”

  “You can’t make me go. I’ll go live with Mom, and drive back here for school once I get my license.”

  “Good luck with that,” his father snarled, releasing a cold laugh. “She’s too busy with her new family to care about you. Haven’t you learnt that by now?” He stepped in closer, teeth barred like a wild animal. “Get your things, and get them down here. Now.”

  Blinding tears of rage burned behind Ben’s eyes. He sensed for whatever reason, his father wouldn’t be changing his mind. They were leaving. Only Ben wouldn’t be changing his mind either. He would find a way to return to Mia.

  When Ben didn’t call or stop by the following day, Mia jumped on her bike after dinner. She headed toward Ben’s little shack near town, using the tarred seven-mile trail that started behind the resort. When she peered inside his bedroom window, it appeared oddly empty. His bed was stripped and his small closet door remained open. The clothing rod was filled with empty metal hangers. She summoned the courage to knock on the front door, praying she wouldn’t have to talk to his dad. But no one answered. When she tried the door, it was unlocked. She stepped inside, calling for Ben. The house felt more empty than his bedroom.

  Stomach tight, she tiptoed into the kitchen and opened the outdated refrigerator’s door. It had been cleaned out. The tiled floor dropped beneath her feet. Ben was gone. How could he just leave without saying goodbye? And why? What had changed since he’d last crawled into her bed the night before?

  Unable to muster the energy to ride her bike, she walked it back while shedding heartbroken tears. As she approached the inlet dam at the edge of the lake, fear clattered through her. Tom leaned against his silver sports car, arms crossed, fresh cut on his cheek, eyes ablaze with fury. Dread twisted in her stomach. It felt like an ambush. Had he been waiting for her? She considered turning back and calling her parents from town, but Tom was already charging towards her.

  “What’d you tell that detective about me?” he demanded. “He’s been asking all kinds of questions about me and Bella, wondering why you think I’m a jerk.”

  Mia wiped her wet face and squared her shoulders. “Maybe because you are.”

  “Do you really think I did something to Bella?”

  Anger spread through her with the force of a shotgun blast. “I don’t know, Tom. Why were you and Matt so far away from the boat? Where were you going?”

  “Where were you going, Mia? Why the hell were you covered in your sister’s blood?” His nostrils flared when he took a long stride in her direction, shoving her back a step. “What did you do to her?”

  She trembled beneath his stare, unable to answer. With a disgusted sound, Tom retreated to his car, engine roaring as he tore down the gravel road. She hooked a leg over her bike, stomach in greasy knots as her feet fumbled over the pedals. She didn’t have any idea what had happened that night. She just wanted her sister back.

  PART II

  History Repeats

  * * *

  “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”

  -Robert Frost

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tucked away in a corner of the packed winery, Mia pinched her lips together, waiting for the dizzy feeling to pass. It had been five years since she’d last been home, and she knew locals were fascinated by Bella’s story, as if her unexplained disappearance had become some kind of urban legend. Mia had recently stumbled across a website created by a conspiracy theorist who’d produced a fictional timeline of what happened that night. They’d even had the audacity to convince their followers that Mia was the only one of the survivors never spotted in public because she was hiding in mountains out west. She supposed she should’ve been thankful that it threw other whack-jobs off her trail.

  She’d left for New York the day after graduation, and had changed her hair color from strawberry blond to the darkest brown. She’d learned to apply makeup to alter the shape of her wide brown eyes, and highlight her sharp cheekbones. Still, many years after she’d started a new life, she knew being close to Shady Oaks would unearth too many painful memories and regrets. If only she had told her friends about the storm…

  She jumped with the sound of a shrill ding from her cell phone. She slipped it from her purse to find an email sent by an account named “YourOldFriend@ShadyOaks.” Her mom had only ever used a generic email account, and Mia had been unable to convince her to open anything else. Who would’ve gone to the trouble of opening something under the resort’s name, and who knew she’d returned home?

  Her blood ran cold as she read the subject line. “Lovely painting. Inspired by your sister’s demise?”

  Her eyes darted to her nearby oil painting of a headless dog lying on a gravel road. The tawny color and coarse texture of its coat was a terrier/beagle mix. Flies gathered on the open wound where its head was severed. Not far from the canine’s carcass, a young girl with freckles and curly hair in a striking shade of strawberry blond—similar to Mia’s own natural color—wore a stark white sundress and spotless white shoes. The girl lingered behind a chain link fence with the widest smile imaginable pressed to her pretty little lips, and a white satin blindfold covering her eyes.

  Her heart raced as she scanned the dense crowd of locals. She didn’t recognize a single one. Who had sent the email?

  “Do I know you?” a man’s voice asked behind Mia.

  Her heart launched into her throat. She couldn't breathe. It was her body’s go-to reaction whenever surprised by a stranger—when she was all at once launched back in time to the night that forever scarred her soul. She hated anything that involved mingling, hated putting on a show. She hated pretending to be normal, and hated going anywhere that didn’t allow her to hide behind a locked door. But she’d promised Liz she’d accompany her painting to the benefit.

  The instruction she was given by her therapist for that kind of situation wove through her conscience. “Connect with the here and now, Mia.”

  She took an inventory of everything her eyes could drink in. High ceilings. Twinkling lights strung among barn wood walls and cedar beams. A non-threatening crowd. The din of lively conversation pinging against her eardrums. The scent of freshly cut flowers in large vases scattered all around the building filled her lungs. She was perfectly safe.

  With a measured exhale, she spun around on her three-inch stilettos. A redhead in his mid-twenties greeted her with a cocky grin. Though his lips were thin, his nose was hooked, and his eyes slightly protruded from his head, he was cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. He wore a black, slim-fitting suit without a tie, and his hair was gelled back. Mia imagined he was the hipster-type that raced his daddy’s expensive boat around Shetek on the weekends, and still lived at home because he couldn’t find the perfect job suitable to his liking.

  She wished the time she spent in the gym didn’t garner so much attention. The stronger she physically became, knowing she could potentially ward off anyone who tried to mess with her, the more she felt empowered. It was the same reason she never left her apartment in New York without a can of pepper spray or a stun gun. Her fingertips brushed over her purse as a reminder they were both handy.

  He extended a hand between them. “Jason Landers.”

  Clasping her hands behind her back, she muttered, “Mia.”

  Physical contact with strange men was another thing she despised. She was constantly aware whoever had abducted her sister was still roaming the streets somewhere.

  The guy didn’t seem to take the hint that his presence was unwanted. He hummed, smiling. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Wanna blow this place and grab a drink at Key Largo with me, Mia?” His friendly expression narrowed as he studied her face. “Seriously, though, you look really familiar. Did you go to school here?”

  Shuffling back, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  “Wait!” Jason’s long fingers clamped around her wrist. “Can I at least get your number?”

  The action wasn’t necessarily aggressive, but something about Jason Landers made her uneasy. His touch burned like fire against her skin. Did she know him? She stared at the hair on the back of his wrist. Nausea seared her throat. Was he her sister’s killer, revealing himself after all these years? Had he sent the email? The room became smaller, on the verge of consuming her with one more blink.

  “Step away from her,” a deep voice rumbled.

  Once Jason released her, she spun around and was met by a set of unsettlingly haunted eyes the color of a beautifully calm sky. They were every bit as striking as the blonde man possessing them. On top of that, he smelled divine—a masculine scent of sage and something earthy…forest-like. The floor moved beneath Mia, and a tingling sensation flooded her nerves.

  It couldn’t be him.

  With a shaky inhale, she took a moment to thoroughly study every delightful inch of the grown man standing before her, defending her honor. The wavy tufts of hair the color of wheat she’d admired had grown down to his chin. The haircut was fitting for his trim body and masculine profile, making him appear years beyond 21. Among tanned, rugged features, his pillow-like lips framed by a meticulously trimmed beard were the most notable. He was not only well-groomed, but impeccably dressed. The combination of a slim-fitting white oxford shirt and dark blue jeans had never looked as good as they did on his fit figure. His sleeves were rolled at the elbows, and his muscular biceps strained against the material.

  Although he had drastically changed since he’d last stepped foot inside her bedroom, familiarity struck her with the force of a gale storm. The last time she’d laid eyes on Ben Pitt, he’d been a gangly sixteen-year-old laying next to her in bed, holding her as she wept. The beautiful man standing before her, composed of rigid muscles and hard angles, still cast the same gentle look of comfort and security. Was he truly devastatingly attractive, or was it merely because her heart soared with the sight of him?

  “Who’re you?” Jason snarled, shoving Ben backward.

  Ben’s stare darkened. “I’m the man who’s going to teach you a thing or two about how to treat a woman. Even an idiot could see she’s uncomfortable and wants you to leave her alone.”

  Jason eyed Mia, chuckling. “Is this dude for real?”

  She glanced back at Ben. With the intensity of his expression, her heart made several back flips before she was able to get her breathing under control.

  As Ben held her stare, his scowl remained as unyielding as granite. “Want this guy to screw off?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered with a slight nod.

  Ben stepped out in front of Mia, nearly nose-to-nose with Jason. “She made her answer crystal clear,” he snarled. “I would suggest you walk away before this gets ugly.”