Sheriff Donovan stood, forcing her to crane her head up to look at his face. “Have a seat, Ms. Williams.” The sheriff gestured to the chairs behind her, his voice and eyes hard.
Neither she nor Sheriff Donovan moved.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she understood this wasn’t a test of wills she could win. She needed the sheriff more than he needed her if she had a hope of finding Cassie. Sheriff Donovan had made it clear that it would suit him just fine if she went back to New York City and let him handle Cassie’s disappearance the way he saw fit. If she wanted him to do more than wait and see if Cassie turned up, she might have to try to win him over with honey rather than vinegar.
Possibly thinking along the same lines, Shawn said softly, “Addy, you should sit.”
After several seconds, she relented. Shawn took the second chair, while Sheriff Donovan also sat.
“Now tell me about this call.” Sheriff Donovan eyed her from across the desk.
Addy recounted the call in detail. It wasn’t difficult. Every word of the short conversation was burned into her memory.
“With your permission, I can try to see if the phone company can attach a name or location to the number your sister called from,” the sheriff said, digging through a pile of papers on his desk and handing a sheet across to Addy.
A consent form allowing the department to request her records from the telephone company.
“That’s it?” Addy asked, looking up from the form in her hand.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s nothing more I can do. Not without a location, and it doesn’t sound like your sister gave you one.”
Addy slid to the edge of her seat. Shawn reached out, taking her hand as if he feared she might launch herself at the sheriff. Frenetic energy coursed through Addy, making launching herself at the sheriff possible, although she held herself in check. She couldn’t seem to make the sheriff understand the danger she knew Cassie was in.
“Maybe she couldn’t tell us, but the call proves she’s being held against her will.”
Sheriff Donovan shook his head, sending a thick strand of gray hair onto his forehead. “Maybe.”
Addy felt her ire rise to near boiling, but she checked it for Cassie’s sake. “What do you mean, maybe?”
“Kidnappers don’t usually let their victims make phone calls to family, despite what you see on television. You said the call was choppy. And that your sister said she was okay when you asked how she was. Maybe you just had a bad connection.”
“Sheriff—” Addy started, but Sheriff Donovan held up a hand.
“Look, I understand your concern. I do. But there isn’t much we can do right now. If your sister called once, she’ll probably call again. You may have a better connection next time.” Sheriff Donovan stood, crossing his arms over his chest.
Shawn also rose, still holding Addy’s hand and pulling her up with him.
“That she called is a good sign, Ms. Williams.” The sheriff’s gaze cut to Shawn and held some silent communication Addy didn’t understand.
Addy started to ask about it when Shawn spoke.
“Let’s go, Addy.” He moved his hand to her back and guided her out of the sheriff’s office.
Addy signed the consent form to allow the sheriff to have her phone records and left it with the deputy at the front desk on the way out. She and Shawn crossed the small parking lot behind the sheriff’s office. A light snow fell, and people hustled past the sheriff’s department laden with shopping bags. A Salvation Army volunteer stood on the corner across the street, his rhythmic bell enticing passersby to drop change in his red kettle.
Addy hoisted herself into the Yukon, closed the door and turned so she faced Shawn across the middle console. “What was that back there between you and Sheriff Donovan at the end? What did he mean that Cassie’s calling was a good sign?”
Shawn took her hand, looking at her with compassion. “It’s a good sign because it means Cassie is still alive.”
They made their way out of the parking lot, but the words Shawn hadn’t said hung thick in the air. Cassie was alive.
But for how much longer?
Chapter Eight
Addy sank into the Yukon’s heated leather seats and let her eyes drift closed. She and Shawn had spoken to two of the three people on her list, but it felt like they were no closer to finding Cassie. The call from Cassie had left Addy feeling even more fearful that they were running out of time.
Shawn hadn’t yet started the car’s engine. She felt him shift in the driver’s seat and opened her eyes.
He pulled a bottle of aspirin from the console between them and offered it to her.
“Thanks.” The smile she gave him was genuine, albeit weak.
She swallowed two capsules dry. Her mild headache had turned into a raging inferno somewhere between the confrontation with Teddy and their chat with Sheriff Donovan.
Shawn gave her hand a comforting squeeze before hitting a button on the steering wheel.
“Call Ryan.”
The sound of a phone ringing came through the car radio’s speakers.
“Shawn.” The gruff tenor floated through the car.
Shawn turned his gaze on Addy, taking her hand in his again. “You’re on speaker, Ry. Addy’s in the car with me.”
“I’m sorry your sister is missing.” The gruff voice on the other end of the phone softened. “West Security will do our best to locate her.”
“Thank you. And please call me Addy.”
“Addy got a call from Cassie about forty minutes ago. It was short, and the connection was bad,” Shawn said.
Ryan asked for her phone and which carrier she used. “I’ll see what I can do, but it will take some time.”
“There’s something else. Before Cassie’s phone call, a guy named Teddy Arbury threatened Addy.” Shawn quickly recapped the scene at the diner and following Teddy’s motorcycle. “I tried to follow him, but he got away from me,” Shawn said, his jaw clenching.
“Given how you drive, I’d love to know how that happened,” Ryan grumbled.
They could hear Ryan already typing furiously.
Shawn ignored the brotherly dig. “Arbury was riding a black Fireblade.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Those bikes are fast.”
“Let’s see what we can find on him. Also, Cassie’s roommate, Suri Bedingfield, seems to have suddenly moved out of their apartment and gotten a new job in Garwin.”
“I’m on it. Anything else?” Ryan stressed the last two words.
Irritation flashed across Shawn’s face. His jaw clenched tighter. “I’ll keep you posted.”
The silence on the other end of the phone went on for so long Addy began to wonder if they’d lost the connection.
Finally, Ryan spoke. “I’ll be in touch.”
Ryan disconnected.
Addy let out a deep breath. “So where to now?”
Shawn started the Yukon. “Let’s go check out Cassie’s apartment.”
They made a quick detour to the office of the real estate agent who’d helped Cassie find her apartment. The agent hesitated to give Addy the spare key until Addy pointed out that she was technically a lessee since the landlord had insisted Addy be the signatory on the lease given Cassie’s age and lack of rental history. The agent glowered but handed over the key.
Cassie lived in a yellow clapboard duplex in a residential area of the city. The cold air slammed into Addy the moment she stepped from the warm interior of the Yukon. Her eyes scanned the small, desolate front yard. The tufts of grass that had survived the winter weather were yellowed and crunched beneath their feet as they made their way to the front of the duplex.
A thought tickled at the back of Addy’s mind, but she couldn’t bring it into focus.
“You okay?” Shawn gazed down a
t her, concern in his eyes.
She smiled weakly, mustering a nod.
They climbed the steep, narrow staircase to the second-floor apartment, and Addy used the key to let them inside.
The apartment was small for one person. Having to share it with a roommate would have driven Addy insane. But Cassie had insisted on getting a roommate and paying her way, despite Addy’s offers of financial help.
The apartment was freezing, but a musty smell still managed to linger in the air. The paisley sofa and armchair that had come with the furnished apartment remained, but it appeared Suri or Cassie had attempted to add some warmth to desolate space with cherry-red curtains over the living room and kitchen windows and a painting of a boat out to sea on the wall behind the sofa. Along the far wall of the space, three feet of countertop sat between an ancient range stove and an equally old refrigerator. The two cabinets overhanging the counter provided the only cupboard space. There was no dining table, and no room for one. Cassie and Suri must have eaten their meals on the sofa or in their bedrooms.
“Do you know which room was Cassie’s?” Shawn asked, peeking into the room that opened up off the living room.
“Since it was her apartment, Cassie took the slightly—” Addy emphasized the word “—bigger room with a little more privacy.”
Addy pointed and led the way down a short hallway to the second bedroom.
The room looked as if it had been stripped, possibly by someone moving out. An undressed mattress and box spring sat on a metal frame, an upright pine dresser across from it. The closet door stood open, several empty hangers dangling from the closet rod.
There were still months left on the lease, but from all appearances, the apartment looked to have been abandoned by its occupants.
Shawn searched the nightstand next to the bed while Addy explored the dresser, opening each drawer. Nothing. There wasn’t so much as a sock in any of them. She reached inside the closet, pushing to her tippy toes, and fanned her hand over the top shelf, feeling for anything that might give her some clue as to Cassie’s whereabouts.
Despite her five-foot-eight height, she wasn’t quite able to reach the back wall of the closet. Not wanting to miss any potential clue, she dropped back to her heels and rotated in a slow circle, looking for something she could stand on and see into the top of the closet.
On his knees, Shawn peered under the bed. Addy tilted her head, admiring how his jeans hugged his bottom. She wouldn’t have thought it was possible for his tush to look better than it had in yesterday’s tailored slacks, but the jeans were giving the slacks a run for their money. The man had a killer body.
Shawn turned, catching her off guard. Heat rose in her cheeks and flamed as a slow smile spread across Shawn’s face. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t reach all the way to the back of the closet. I’m looking for something to stand on.” She ignored the pull to fan her cheeks, instead pointing to the nightstand he’d just searched. “Can you help me push that over here?”
Instead of helping her push the nightstand, he wrapped his arms around it and lifted it as if it was no heavier than a stapler.
“Where do you want it?” His flirty smile sent a tingle through her.
“Show-off.”
He winked and wiggled his biceps in answer.
Another tingle, this time accompanied by flutters in her stomach and lower. She didn’t usually find cocky self-assuredness attractive, but on Shawn? Majorly. Hot.
“Just put it in front of the closet. Thanks.”
Shawn set the end table down and reached for her waist as if to hoist her to the top of the table, but she stepped back.
“I think I can manage.”
He raised his hands in front of him and took a step back.
She braced a hand on either side of the nightstand and hoisted herself on top, knees first. The table wobbled at the addition of her weight.
Shawn’s hand shot out, wrapping around her forearm and steadying her. His lips were only inches from hers. All she had to do was lean in an inch. Her heart pounded.
“This thing is a piece of junk. Take a look, and let’s get you off it before it falls apart.”
She swallowed hard and nodded, her heart still pounding. She needed to tamp down her libido before she spontaneously combusted.
Shawn held on to her arm as she pushed to her feet and peered into the closet.
Disappointment joined the flutters in her stomach at the sight of the dusty but otherwise empty self.
“See anything?” Shawn asked.
“No.”
A cracking sound punctuated the statement. Shawn wrapped his arms around her, swinging her away from the closet. The nightstand crashed to the floor, and one of the legs rolled into the wall with a thunk.
Shawn made no move to put her down. His face flushed with desire and something else that she wasn’t sure she was ready to name. She put it aside and did the thing she’d wanted to do since she opened the door to her hotel room and found him standing there this morning.
She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Shawn’s mouth moved against hers without hesitation. The touch of his tongue finally ignited a fire inside her, and all she could think about was how right it felt to be in his arms. He was strong and solid. Confident, cocky even, but kind. For the first time, she let herself consider what it might be like to come home to him and be kissed like this for the rest of her life.
That thought had her breaking off the kiss abruptly. It was one kiss. An admittedly amazing kiss, she corrected mentally, but not a reason to consider changing her life. She had a plan. Find Cassie. Close the Browning–Tuffs merger. Make partner. A relationship just didn’t fit into that plan.
“I think you can put me down now.”
Confusion clouded Shawn’s eyes, but he lowered her to the ground.
“We should check out the rest of the apartment.” Addy smoothed her wrinkled shirt and shifted past Shawn and out of the bedroom, avoiding looking him in the eye.
If he had any thoughts about her abrupt change in attitude, he kept them to himself. It was unfair to have kissed him like that when she had no intention of letting anything between them blossom. Maybe she should apologize. But with one glance at the hardened features of his face, she knew that an apology would not go over well right now.
She sighed to herself. He was angry with her, and she deserved it for leading him on. It was something she’d have to deal with. Later.
Addy made her way to the kitchen, Shawn trailing behind her and detouring at the end of the hall into the smaller bedroom that had been Suri’s. She opened the refrigerator. Empty. She hadn’t expected to find anything inside, but the cool air was a welcome respite from the flames heating her body. She moved to the range and opened the oven door, once again unsurprised when she found it empty.
Addy was the cook in the family, finding it calming and satisfying to start with nothing but raw ingredients and transform them into something that she could share with her friends and family. She doubted Cassie had ever turned on the oven, but that made it the perfect hiding place.
She finished her search of the small kitchen with the cupboards, which held the plates, cups and pots that had come with the apartment. The cabinet drawers were similarly appointed, holding only silverware.
“There’s nothing in there,” Shawn said, exiting the second bedroom.
“Nothing here, either,” Addy responded, frustration ringing from each word. “I guess we can get out of here.”
Shawn lifted the ruffled sofa skirt and looked underneath. This time she made a point of not looking at him as he did.
Shawn stood and went to the middle of the room. His eyes passed over her, then stopped just to her right. He crossed to the small kitchen space, his eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling.
“There’s an attic or
crawl space up there.” He pointed to a square cutout in the ceiling. A short string dangled from a hook on one side.
Shawn jumped, grabbing the string. The door swung down. A set of folding stairs had been attached to the inside, and Shawn unfolded them.
Addy stepped forward, ready to ascend the ladder and see what, if anything, was up there. She doubted very much Cassie would have stored anything inside, but she wasn’t leaving the apartment without searching every inch of the space.
Shawn held out a hand, blocking her forward movement. “You should let me do it. We don’t know how sturdy this old ladder is or what we’ll find up there.”
Tension rolled off him, and Addy understood what Shawn had not said. He was worried about finding Cassie’s body in the attic.
Shawn reached around his back, drawing a gun from his waistband.
He climbed the ladder, gun held in front of him with one hand, the other steadying him as he climbed. He stopped slightly more than halfway up, twisting so he could see behind him and sweeping the gun from left to right.
“There’s something up here.” He returned the gun to his waistband at his back, signaling that whatever was in the attic wasn’t a threat.
Her heart thudded at the possibility that the worst had happened and they’d just found Cassie.
Shawn climbed farther up the ladder, disappearing inside the attic. After a couple of minutes his head appeared. “Stand back.”
A dark gray garbage bag landed at Addy’s feet, followed by a second garbage bag moments later.
She knelt, opening a bag as Shawn made his way back down the ladder slowly, a box in his hands.
The trash bags contained women’s clothes—jeans, tops, suits, skirts. Addy pulled a faded pink T-shirt from the pile.
“These are Cassie’s clothes,” Addy said, rooting around in the bags, finding more familiar pieces of clothing.
“And this box looks like it’s full of some of her other things.” Shawn lifted a sterling silver picture frame from the box open in front of him. Cassie, Addy and their father at Cassie’s high school graduation.
Missing at Christmas Page 7
