Sitting straighter on the barstool, he slides both palms down his dark jeans. “I think he overreacted.”

  Shaking my head, I disagree. “He’s been hurt before. I should’ve been more sensitive to his wounds.”

  Adam’s brow furrows and he studies my face. “He told you about Annemarie?”

  I nod, aching at how blind I’d been. Of course it’s where Aiden’s mind went.

  “Wow.” Adam lifts the tumbler and takes a sip. “He does love you.”

  My eyes slide closed, and I ache with wanting to believe it’s true. “He barely looks at me now.”

  “He’s angry. He’s on the defense, but there’s a big difference in cheating on someone and holding back information for your family. He’ll come around.”

  “I don’t know.” I study my hands, missing him so much.

  “Listen, I’ve seen my brother in more than one romantic relationship, and he’s never been like he was with you. He was happy. Hell, he actually smiled and gave out compliments.”

  “You make him sound so mean.”

  “He was mean. He was a grumpy asshole until you.”

  “He’s not an asshole!”

  A warm smile curls his lips, and he reaches out to cup the side of my neck, placing his forehead to mine briefly. “You are so good for him. He’s going to get his head out of his ass. Just don’t give up on him, okay?”

  I reach out and hug him back. “Thanks for making me feel better.”

  “You’ve always been a good friend to me, and I think you’d make a great sister.”

  That makes me smile, and real warmth soothes my insides. “I think you’d make a great brother.” Sliding off my chair, I check the large clock over the door. “I’d better head on back before it’s dark.”

  “If you don’t mind hanging around while I clean up, I can drive you. That old beach cruiser will fit in the back of my Jetta.”

  “Don’t you always have a surfboard in the back of your Jetta?” I wink at him, and he shakes his head.

  “I took it out last weekend. It needs sanding and a fresh coat of wax.”

  “It’s okay.” I squeeze his muscled arm. “I actually like riding in the twilight. It’s magical.”

  “Hold up. I thought you stopped believing in magic.” He’s teasing, and I almost laugh.

  He really has made me feel better. He’s given me hope.

  “Maybe there’s no magic, but there might be a little pixie dust.”

  “That’s the spirit. Ride safe, and text me when you get home.”

  “I will.” Leaving the bar, I realize I forgot to ask about the secret he’s been keeping, specifically with regard to my bestie Piper.

  “Next time,” I say to myself, unlocking the cruiser from the bike rack.

  A gorgeous full moon is just rising as I take off down the narrow road leading from the distillery back to town. It’s a little farther out than the neighborhoods, but it’s still only a few miles from my apartment.

  My mind is full from our conversation, and I’m actually smiling again. Of all the people who’ve tried to encourage me, Adam is the one who actually helps me believe I could end up with Aiden again.

  Exhaling a sigh, I long so much for his strong arms around me. If I ever get the chance to be there again, I swear I’ll never mess it up. Lifting my eyes to the starry sky, I say a little prayer that it might happen. It can’t hurt, right?

  The sound of tires approaching from behind makes me stop pedaling so I can coast to the shoulder, out of the way. I expect it to be Adam finished early, since we’re both heading in the same direction, and I’m surprised when it’s a light blue Ford I don’t recognize. We’re pretty far off the beaten path.

  It slows to match my speed, and I see the passenger side window is lowered. Inside, an older man looks over at me and smiles. His face is wrinkled, but his hair is dyed dark brown. He even has a thin mustache on his upper lip.

  “Nice night for a ride.” He smiles in a way that makes my heart beat faster.

  A touch of evil is in his tone, and I don’t answer. I focus on the road and pedal faster, pulling out ahead of him.

  He gives his truck a little gas, and he’s easily keeping time with me. “Not very friendly, are you?”

  My chest tightens, and my stomach quivers as I strain to get closer to town. Out here on this lonely road, no one is around to help me, but we’re so close to Eureka. I pump my legs harder, standing on the pedals.

  “Why are you running?” His voice is too calm, like he has a plan, and he’s just waiting for the right moment to execute it. “I need directions.”

  Roaring is in my ears and little gasping noises come from my chest as I push harder. The truck gets ahead of me and suddenly whips over in front of my bike, causing me to veer onto the shoulder and lose my balance.

  With a little scream, I fall to the side, but the bike doesn’t go all the way down. The truck door opens and slams shut, and I walk the bike backwards as fast as I can to get away from him and get out of here.

  I’m not fast enough, and he straddles the front wheel, grabbing the handlebars. “You’re Lars Bailey’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  Realization washes over me, and I’m ready to scream and kick and fight and run.

  “I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl.” Stan lowers his chin, leveling his eyes on me from under his brow. It’s a sinister look, and it triggers a memory from deep in my past. “I’m going to need you to get in the truck and come with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I push off the bike and turn to run in the direction of the distillery.

  My hope is Adam is on his way, and I’ll meet him on the road. I only make it a few steps before he’s on top of me.

  Jerking my elbow back, I land a hard blow to his torso. He lets out an Oof, but it’s not enough. He’s surprisingly strong, and he grips my arms, jerking my back to his chest. Then he loops one arm across my shoulders, holding me tight. I try to scream, but it’s lost in the cloth he presses over my nose and mouth.

  Three panicked breaths, and everything goes dark.

  CHAPTER 27

  AIDEN

  “Do you think Miss Britt might need someone to walk Edward?” Owen is buckled in the back seat, wearing his little navy blazer on the way to Sunday school.

  I’ve been restless ever since our meeting in the park, and the way I left her. I had to get away from her presence, but her presence won’t leave me.

  I miss her.

  As she told me her new theory about the case, I missed working with her. I missed her instincts and intelligence. She’s smart as a fucking whip.

  When her eyes flooded with tears as she spilled her heart to me, I wanted to pull her into my arms and forgive everything. I missed tracing my nose along the line of her hair. I missed holding her body next to mine and hearing the little gasps and whimpers that lace her breathing when I touch her.

  Stubbornly, I ran away, but after passing a sleepless night fighting with my brother’s words, I’ve reconsidered my hard line.

  “Ryan’s mom said her friend Miss Cass walks dogs for money.” Owen’s still working on his plan for seeing his new bestie. “I’d walk Edward for free!”

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, I give him a smile. “Sounds like an offer she can’t refuse.”

  He grins so big, my heart swells. Seeing how much Britt loves him is another crack in the wall I’ve built. Everyone makes mistakes… Damn Adam.

  Owen’s out of the truck and jogging up to meet Ryan as soon as we reach the church, and I decide to stop by the courthouse. I know she’s there, because I have her work schedule.

  In two turns, I’m pulling into my reserved parking space. Hopping out, I plan what could be the reason for my unexpected visit after saying I didn’t want to see her again.

  We need to discuss her new theory on the case. What could Stan be planning? Where is he? She told me straight up her mother is doing her own sleuthing, which shows she’s trying to make up for her mistake. It’s another blow to my defenses.

  Reaching out, I grasp the metal handle on the door, but it doesn’t budge. My brow furrows, and I lean forward, cupping my hand over the glass. The room is dark. The door is locked. Nobody’s here.

  I dig in my pocket for the key and unlock the door, flipping on the lights as I pass Holly’s and Doug’s desks on my way to hers. It looks the same as it did when she left on Friday. Pausing, I pull up the schedule on my phone, and I wasn’t wrong. Her name is down for today.

  Sliding my hand behind my neck, I hesitate, thinking. Then I swipe my thumb across the screen, and tap out a short text. Sleeping in?

  It doesn’t make sense for her to not be here. She’s not the type to ditch work.

  Returning to the glass doors, I gaze across the square in the direction of the Star Parlor. Without giving it a thought, I push through the door and head across the street. I’m only going to be sure the cruiser is there. I won’t go upstairs or bang on her door or anything overbearing-boss-ish like that.

  At the speed I’m moving, it doesn’t take long to reach her building. I step inside the glass door and go to the space behind the stairwell, where I know she parks the bike. A bad feeling moves through my chest when I see it’s empty.

  Dragging my fingers through the scruff on my jaw, I rationalize. She probably went for a ride… on the day she’s scheduled to work. I might have passed her on my way here… across the wide-open square. She could’ve gone for donuts.

  Donuts! I exhale a laugh. Fuck. I’m acting like a paranoid caveman, and she’s probably on her way to the courthouse right now with a box of Krispy Kreme.

  I turn to leave at the same time the door to the Star Parlor opens, and Gwen stops short with a little yelp.

  “Aiden!” Her voice is breathless, and she presses a hand to her chest. “What are you doing here? Birgitte said you two aren’t speaking.”

  “We’re not.” My tone is flat, and I continue for the door when she stops me.

  “If you’re not speaking, why are you in her stairwell?”

  “It’s her day to work, and she’s not at the courthouse. I was just checking on her.”

  Gwen’s eyes whip to the empty space where the bike is normally parked then to me again. “Something’s wrong.”

  A fist knots in my chest, but I push back. “She’s probably just getting donuts. We always have Krispy Kreme—”

  “My daughter hasn’t eaten a donut since she was a child.” Gwen closes the space between us quickly. “I’m telling you something’s not right here. I can feel it.”

  “Don’t start that with me.”

  “Even if you don’t believe in magic, there are proven instances of a mother’s intuition being correct. You have to send out an APB or an Amber Alert or whatever you people do to get everyone searching.”

  My stomach churns, and of course, I would do all of those things. “I can’t call a search party until we’re sure she’s missing.”

  A low barking from upstairs sends another flash through my chest. “Edward.” I grab the railing, taking the steps two at a time.

  The door is locked, but Gwen is right behind me pulling a set of keys from her pocket and opening the door. We both enter to see the dog hasn’t been fed. Her bed is made, but it hasn’t been slept in. A knot forms in my throat as I scan the small apartment. No signs of dinner, no dishes in the sink or on the drying rack.

  “She hasn’t been here.”

  “Oh, God!” Gwen clutches her stomach, dropping against the wall. “Not her. Not my girl.”

  “Stop it,” I bark. “We have to keep calm. When was the last time you saw her?”

  “The day you sent her to get my gun.” Her eyes flash to mine. “Which I still don’t have back.”

  “You’ll get it back.” Anger is in my voice, in my veins. It’s the only way to fight the growing fear. “The last time I saw her was at Little Sunbeam Park yesterday afternoon with Edward. She obviously came back here after that.”

  My phone is out, and I see an hour has passed. “I’ve got to pick up my son from church.”

  I start for the door, and she grabs my arm. “What can I do?” Panic is in her voice, and I look around the room.

  “Take care of Edward.” I put my hand on her arm, calming my tone. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you when I’ve found her.”

  Her lips tighten, and for whatever reason, she’s struggling with this simple request. This simple olive branch.

  “You love her.”

  My chin pulls back, and I hesitate. Fuck it. “Yes.”

  “You’ll search until you find her? You won’t give up?”

  Pressure is in my chest at her words. I don’t like this line of thought. We have to stay positive. We’re going to find her riding back to the courthouse with a box of donuts, and she’s going to smile her cute smile and ask if I’m being over protective again.

  A sliver of fear pierces my insides at the thought. “Give me your number.”

  She finally relents, and when she passes my phone back to me, I’m out the door, jogging down the steps and heading to the church.

  Owen is on the lawn playing with Ryan, and I decide to wait and see if Piper knows anything when my brother strolls out the door.

  “Hey, bro! What are you doing at church?”

  “Picking up Owen.” My tone is clipped, and his smile fades when he reads my expression.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing, probably. Britt wasn’t at work this morning, and when I went to her building to check on her, her bike wasn’t there.”

  “She didn’t text me.” His voice is urgent, and my eyes snap to him.

  “What was that?”

  “I ran into her at the park yesterday looking like she was about to cry, so I invited her to Stone Cold. We had a few drinks, and she took off on her bike headed home. I told her to text me when she got there, but she didn’t. I figured she just forgot.”

  I’m jogging to my truck while he’s still speaking. “Watch Owen for me.”

  Silence fills the cab, and I grip the steering wheel as I fly up the narrow road in the direction of my family’s distillery, straining my eyes as I scan the shoulders. A bad taste is in my mouth. I need any shred of hope I can find.

  If she had an accident, she’d have used her phone to call for help—unless her phone was broken.

  If someone hit her, I want to believe they’d have done the right thing and reported it. I want to believe they’d have done the better thing and taken her to get help. But what happened to Annemarie burns in my memory. It tightens my lungs, making breathing difficult.

  My knuckles are white, and my eyes ache from searching. I’m halfway to the distillery when it all goes to shit. My stomach drops, and I pull to the side of the road with a squeal of tires.

  There in the small ditch is the beach cruiser. I’m out of the truck, running to where it lies, and I see the contents of her purse spilled beside the basket—including her phone.

  “Fuck,” I growl, gripping the sides of my hair and looking up and down the road.

  Nothing is out here, and at night, no one would’ve seen. Whipping out my phone, I text Doug to get out here ASAP, then I call the Beaufort guys I know for backup.

  My insides are in knots as I slowly retrace my steps to the shoulder, scanning the ground for anything, any footprints or tire tracks or lost items. The thick grass obscures everything except in one spot where it’s slightly uprooted, where a vehicle might have pulled off the road.

  My next text is to Gwen. Found the bike, no Britt. Need Edward.

  There’s only one way off this road, but after that, they could’ve gone anywhere. Britt’s new theory about the case is in my head. We were trying to find a reason Stan would hide behind Gary. Maybe this was it.

  CHAPTER 28

  BRITT

  Intense sunlight shines on me, and I sit up to find I’m in a small tower room overlooking the ocean. My mouth is so dry, and a metallic taste is on my tongue. I squint against the sun, trying to get my bearings.

  In front of me, a door leads to a balcony, and I run to open it, rushing out into the brisk morning air. It’s more of a widow’s walk, and a briny wind whips steadily against my face. Spinning all around, I try to figure out where I am. I don’t see a single house. My only surroundings are the ocean straight ahead and shrubby wax myrtles spreading out on each side.

  Taking a deep breath, I yell for help as loud as I can, but a gust of wind hits me in the mouth, stealing my breath and muffling my cry.

  Returning to the small room, my heart beats too fast. A set of stairs is against a back wall, and I rush down them only to find a locked door at the bottom. It’s dark at the bottom of the stairwell, but I beat on the door, yelling for anyone to let me out.

  Silence is my only reply.

  Walking up the stairs again slowly, I see a wet bar with a small sink in the opposite corner. I pour myself a glass of water and sip it as I look around for a restroom. Nothing. Sitting on the bed, I rub my fingers over my eyes trying to remember what happened.

  The man who kidnapped me knew who I was. I didn’t know for sure, but I’m certain it was Stan Roswell. Why is he doing this? Aiden’s question is the same as mine, and I still don’t know the answer.

  A scuff of footsteps coming up the stairs tells me I’m about to find out.

  Keys rattle as the door is unlocked, and the stepping resumes, climbing higher. Fear tightens my throat with every tap, and I back slowly to the balcony door. A dark head appears, and he turns on the landing, leveling his eyes on mine and giving me an unsettling smile.

  “Good. You’re awake.” His voice is even with a touch of an accent I can’t place.

  “Who are you?”

  “You don’t remember me?” He places a hand on his chest, feigning sadness. “You hurt my feelings.” Closing the space between us, he drops the pretense. “I guess it has been a while. Hold this.”