My mind instantly replays the passage I read from Allison’s journal and somehow the words are embedded in my memory. In times like these, I miss my mother more than ever. I also realize my friendships here in Nashville are all plastic. There is no one I feel comfortable telling my secrets. Let’s just face it, that’s why I started writing a journal. I have no one.
“Except me,” I say, knots in my belly over her emotions. “She only has me and we never even met.”
“It’s no different than a member of law enforcement having a missing person become personal,” Neil offers. “It can become an obsession. And often it’s why answers are found.”
“How many times is the person found alive?” I ask.
Neil looks at Dash and Dash looks at me. “Not enough.”
I appreciate the honesty, but it also twists me in knots.
“Did you bring the journal, baby?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I copied it.” I reach into my bag and hand a folder to Neil. “Something weird,” I add, looking between them. “I copied this in the rooftop event room where no one is allowed. One of the agents, Benjamin—I need to look up his last name—was just suddenly there. He recognized Allison’s writing. He even said he thought her journal was for personal reasons. I told him it was her business notes. It was weird, creepy. He asked me to lunch. He offered to help me with the auction. He told me I look like her.”
Dash’s jaw sets hard and he eyes Neil. Neil says, “I know his last name. It’s Wilson. He’s on Allison’s call logs and not during work hours. I’m already looking into him.” He glances at me. “Stay away from him.”
“Believe me, I will.” I give Dash a nod and say, “I will.”
He doesn’t look convinced. His lips are tight as he asks Neil, “What else?”
“The last actual phone call she had was with Tyler. He’s tried to call her since more than a few times. I don’t believe he knows where she is. I also have a frequent caller that can’t be identified. Almost as if the phone is a burner phone.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I say.
“No,” Dash replies. “It doesn’t. You’re right, Allie. She’s in trouble. I’d bet my book deal on it.”
“So what do we do? Go to the police?”
“No,” Neil replies. “They’re going to make it way too obvious that you’re behind this. And they aren’t likely to do much without pressure. I need to find her or she may never be found. And I need to do it in a way that keeps you out of it, Allie, and off the radar of anyone that might have hurt her. I have some ideas.” He sticks the file in a leather bag on the side of his chair. “I’ll read the journal tonight and see if it connects any dots.”
“Tyler—”
“I don’t believe he hurt her. I got the code to her voicemail. His messages do not sound like a man who thinks she’s dead.”
Dead.
The word makes my stomach roll.
Neil slides on his jacket. “Anything else?”
I shake my head. Dash stands and says, “Keep us posted.”
“I will,” Neil replies and then he’s walking away.
Adrianna appears with my lunch and sets it on the table. “Lunch has arrived. I didn’t want to interrupt or I’d have brought it sooner. I could tell you were in deep conversation.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m starving.”
She looks between us. “You look like you need me to leave. If you want coffee and a cupcake—”
“I do,” I say. “To go though, please.”
“You got it,” she says and quickly backs away.
Dash angles toward me, his hand settling on my knee. “Can you finish the auction prep in New York? We’ll get a second home there.”
“Because of this Allison thing?”
“Yes. I don’t appreciate Tyler’s bullshit, but if we can’t weather that storm, we shouldn’t be together. Your safety is my concern.”
“Dash, this is our home. I said my goodbyes to New York. I want to enjoy the holiday season here, with you and my mom. And Bella. And my stepfather. I don’t mean to downplay him. He’s family. I do love him, too.”
“Your safety comes first.”
“I’m fine. I’m careful. You’re close. Bella is close. I’ll be careful.”
“Can you at least work from home halftime?”
“Yes. I can. I’ll make arrangements this afternoon. I don’t really think Tyler can say much at this point. He needs me to finish out the auction. He knows I’ll do it because you’re involved and because I care about the outcome.”
“Exactly my thoughts.”
“I don’t know what to do about my job after this year. I really don’t want to leave Riptide, but I want to be here.”
“My advice. Call Mark Compton.”
“I think you’re right. I need to just call him. And I need to call his mom. I really love her.”