by Desiree Holt
“What? What the hell?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“What about the external hard drive? It should be right next to it.”
“Nada,” Sheri told her. “Gone, gone, gone.”
Even as she tried to dial back the sick feeling creeping through her, Devon was already dragging her suitcase out and pulling things out of her drawers and closet. She ran through her mind all the projects she had in process, which could be put on hold, who she needed to try to renegotiate deadlines with.
“I’m coming down there right now. I can’t just sit here and wait around. I’ll finish packing as soon as we hang up and be on the road right away.”
“Good. I think you need to be here. Corporate is sending some people down here and I know they’ll want to talk to you, too. Call me or come see me as soon as you get here.” Sheri paused. “We’re all over it, Devon. I just wish we had more to go on.”
“I know. It’s just…” Just that she’d already lost one parent and didn’t know if she could deal with losing another. “I think I’ll go to the house first and take a look around.”
“Sounds good. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
The minute she hung up from Sheri’s call, she packed the suitcase and threw it and her computer stuff into her car. Less than thirty minutes later she was headed south from Tampa on Interstate 75. She alternated between the threat of tears and full-blown panic as the conversation replayed like a looping tape in her head as she ate up the miles.
While she drove, she kept trying to reach her father. She had both the cell phone and the house phone on speed dial, but she got nothing. Where the hell was he? She’d been on the road for about an hour when her cell rang. The readout showed Sheri’s name so she pushed the remote button to answer.
“Have you found him?” she asked, forgoing any kind of greeting.
“I wish. No, I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
Now what?
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve got a couple of reporters sniffing around here, asking about your father’s disappearance.”
“How did they find out so fast?” Devon asked.
“A million ways. This is the age of the internet. Maybe they were after your father to ask him about the death of his executive. I wouldn’t put it past them to rent a boat and go check on the search.”
“Damn, damn, damn.” Devon pounded a fist against the steering wheel.
“You said it,” Sheri agreed. “Anyway, I’ll bet anything the first story will hit the newspaper tomorrow and they’re looking for more details.”
“Oh, my God. Sheri, I can’t talk to them now.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep them off your back. But it’s possible if they give it a big play, someone seeing it might remember something.”
“You’re right,” Devon agreed. “I’m just not good with stuff like that and right now my mind’s in too much of a whirl to even speak coherently. I’ll probably say the wrong thing and make the situation worse.”
“I understand. We can’t shut them out, and but I will do my best to keep them off your back for as long as I can.”
“Thanks.” Devon blew out a breath.
“If they catch you, the best thing is to tell them no comment. I’m sure they’ll hit the Cole International offices in Tampa. Just let the people there make any statements.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Don’t forget. Call me or come by as soon as you get here.”
“I will.”
She disconnected the call and stuck the phone in the console.
Great. Just great. Reporters, looking for juicy scandal about the disappearance of a business giant.
Oh, Dad, how could you do this to me?
The fact was, she’d been worried about him for the past several months. Her mother’s death five years ago had thrown him for a loop. Piled on top of that were problems with Cole International. He didn’t discuss them with her but there was a hint here and there, and he was constantly on edge. Then, suddenly things seemed to be better.
She’d missed him when he moved to Arrowhead Bay, but she understood him wanting a change. The house was filled with too many memories of her mother. Plus her father said he was tired of city living.
On the trips to the little town while he was still living in Tampa, he met people. Made friends. The times she sailed down there with him she’d gotten to know people, too, and fallen in love with the small, sleepy Southern town. He was as happy as she’d seen him since her mother died.
She’d met Sheri March at one of the many festivals the town held and they’d connected at once, becoming good friends. Through Sheri she’d met a lot of other people, including the chief’s sister, Avery, who ran a private security agency. With friends to hang with and her father almost himself again she’d begun to look forward to visiting him. He loved hearing about the growth of her graphics design business and praised her for what she accomplished.
Then he’d stopped asking her about it except on rare occasions.
She tried to pinpoint just when that had all started. Almost two years ago, she thought. The tenor of the visits had changed. He had changed, becoming more tense, edgier, sometimes even withdrawn. When she asked about it, he just brushed it off. She missed their tight relationship. They had always been close, so it bothered her more than she let on.
He was abruptly more preoccupied with the business than ever, even obsessed with its financial situation. It never made sense to her because Cole International was worth millions. Whenever she asked him what was wrong, he assured her everything was fine. Just some pesky business details, he told her, that were taking a little more of his attention.
She’d continued to make sporadic visits, hoping to recapture the tight sense of family they’d had. After all, it was just the two of them now. But no matter how hard she tried, she’d felt them drifting apart more and more. There was a wall of some kind around the man she just could not breach.
When she noticed the change in him, she tried to question Cash Breeland about it. Cash was the president of the locally owned Arrowhead Bay Bank. Devon didn’t know him all that well, but he and her father had become friends even before the big move. In fact, it was Cash who had introduced her father to friends of his and drawn him into their social circle. But Cash just downplayed her questions.
“I know your daddy’s been preoccupied some,” he drawled when she asked him to meet her for coffee. “He’s just working through some knotty business problems. With all this overseas competition, some of his units aren’t performin’ the way they should. He’ll pull out of it as soon as there’s an uptick in trade.”
But he hadn’t and now he was gone.
Missing.
The word gave birth to a lot of speculation and none of it good.
She spotted the highway signs for Arrowhead Bay and gave herself a mental shake. She needed to clear the garbage out of her head until she could find out for sure what was going on.
She took the farthest exit for the town, the one that took her to the road where her father’s house was. He had built at the far end of town in the area known as Seacliff. More land, larger homes. He liked space, he’d told her. Cole International board members and executives routinely visited him there. And from his side patio he had a magnificent view of Arrowhead Bay and the harbor.
His house was the next to last one on Seacliff Road, and in minutes the familiar gateposts came into view. She gave silent thanks that there were no reporters around. They must have taken Sheri literally. She pulled up in the driveway and shoved the car into park, then stared at the house for a long moment. Automatically she reached into the half-empty bag of red licorice bites on her console and popped a couple in her mouth.
Sitting there now, chewing on the candy, she remembered the last time she’d seen him, a l
ittle more than a month ago. Their brief conversation played out in her head.
“You’re leaving already?” He had looked up from his desk when she stopped in the doorway to the den.
“You’re busy and I have work back in Tampa to take care of.”
“I thought you brought your laptop with you.”
“I did, but I think I’d be more comfortable at home.”
For a fleeting moment, a pained expression crossed his face, one almost of sorrow.
“We should spend more time together.”
She’d nearly snorted at that. They’d always been so close, especially after her mother died, but he’d withdrawn from her.
Still, he was her father and she loved him.
Was it possible this was voluntary? Had her father chosen to disappear so completely? No. Too outrageous, she thought. He was the epitome of the corporate icon. A mover and shaker. Winner of awards. Profiled in magazines. Business school graduates used him as their aspirational model. What on earth could make a man like that choose to vanish as if he’d never existed?
Even with his changes in personality and behavior, she could say this was 100 percent unlike him. What if he’d been grabbed by someone? But who? It could be a competitor, a disgruntled employee, someone on the bad end of a business deal. She knew very little about his business dealings. Would there be a ransom request? Would they contact her or his corporation? How would she get the money if the call came to her? How—
No. Sheri hadn’t said anything about a kidnapping.
Another thought stabbed at her, one that chilled her. Had someone killed him and dumped the body overboard? But who? And why?
She would ask Sheri those questions as soon as she spoke to her again. Meanwhile, back to square one. If neither of those things turned out to be a reality, why had Graham Cole disappeared? What was going on with him?
Stop!
God, she was driving herself crazy.
She felt an unexpected rush of tears and a tightening of her throat. Despite the state of their relationship, he was her father. She still loved him and his disappearance frightened her.
Enough, missy. Get your ass into the house.
But the moment she climbed out of her car, a sudden chill raced down her spine and an ominous feeling gripped her. She stood there, gathering herself. Could a house be menacing?
Ridiculous. Stupid.
She wasn’t the type of woman given to feelings like that. She was down to earth and practical. Some might even say hardheaded, she thought with a tiny smile.
Okay. I’m here. I should go inside and see if I can find anything the police might have missed. Or that would give me some kind of clue as to what had happened, something that would mean something only to me.
Go on. Don’t be a chicken.
It was just bricks and stucco. What did she think was inside? A body? Not likely. The police had already searched the house. When she was sure she had herself under control, she hiked up the steps to the front door, for the moment leaving all her stuff in the car. As she slid the key for the front lock into place she wondered if it still worked. When the key turned and the lock clicked open, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Automatically, she reached for the alarm panel in the front hall, then remembered Sheri said it wasn’t functioning. That a whole new one would need to be installed. How very weird. It was always on.
At least the air-conditioning had been left on, a blessedly cool change from the furnace that was Florida heat in the summer. Jingling the key ring, she walked through the house, looking around, although she had no idea what she expected to find.
The house was open and airy, with a wall of windows the length of one side that looked out to the lawn and beyond that to the bay itself. Her father had hired a decorator and given her free rein. The result was a tastefully decorated home that was open and welcoming.
As she walked from room to room, the same eerie feeling that gripped her when she’d stood in front of the house swept over her again. As if something very bad happened here. The chill racing over her skin had nothing to do with the artificially cooled air. She sensed a presence of evil in the air, and kept looking over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to pop out of a closet.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’ve been watching too much television.
She wandered into his den, seeking any kind of clue. Framed photos of herself and her mother and the three of them sat on the credenza but the desk was uncharacteristically bare. There was nothing on it, not an open book, a stack of papers, nothing. No sign of any activity, yet this was the room where he spent much of his time. How strange. Except...
Damn. Sheri was right. The computer was on his desk but the hard drive was gone. She checked all the drawers, although she was sure the police had already done this. No hard drive, internal or external, and no laptop. She’d forgotten to ask about that. Would he have taken all that with him? What did he plan to do with all his information if he’d decided to disappear? Could he run his business if no one knew where he was?
Again that icy feeling raced over her skin, the kind you got when people told ghost stories in the dark. As if strangers had been here, and not the ones investigating Graham Cole’s disappearance. Could evil leave a sense of its presence?
Evil? Really?
Dramatic much, Devon?
She just couldn’t shake the feeling something was off.
If only she’d forced the issue, made him talk to her. Fixed whatever barriers had been thrown up between them. Maybe she’d have a clue as to what was going on.
For a moment she considered the B and B in town, but why spend money she didn’t have to? A house couldn’t harm you, right?
A loud noise from the kitchen made her pulse leap and her heart thump. She grabbed a golf club leaning against the wall, tiptoed down the hall, and peered into the room. Nothing. No one. Should she step inside? What if someone was hiding in the alcove? With the alarm system not working anyone could come into the house.
Then the noise repeated, and she blew out a breath when she realized what it was. The icemaker in the refrigerator was disgorging cubes into the container.
Devon sat down at the breakfast bar, hands still shaking, and tried to steady herself. Maybe staying here wasn’t such a good idea at all. Was she crazy to think someone had left an imprint here and it wasn’t her father?
There’s nothing here. Give your imagination a rest.
The landline on the kitchen wall rang, startling her. Who would be calling? Most of her father’s calls had come in on his cell phone. Automatically she reached for it.
“Hello?”
Dead silence.
She waited, then, “Hello? Is someone there?”
Still silence. Why did the words dead silence come to mind? Then she heard it, the faint sound of someone breathing.
“If someone is there, speak up, or else I’m hanging up this phone.”
When there was still no answer, she replaced the receiver, irritated. And troubled. She wanted to believe it was kids making prank calls, but with her father’s disappearance it took on a more ominous feeling.
Right, Devon. Make this into some big deal. A lousy phone call. Probably just some wrong number and they were too embarrassed to say anything.
Maybe. She was not someone given to flights of fancy or premonitions. If anything, she was solidly grounded and practical to a fault. Only nothing had felt right to her since she walked in the front door, and the phone call had just added to the feeling of unease. She had a sudden need to get out of there, be with noise and crowds. Her stuff could wait until later. Right now she needed to be with people. A lot of people.
She had just headed out of the kitchen when the phone rang again. With a mixture of impatience and dread she picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
Silence again.<
br />
“Listen. Whoever you are, either talk to me or I’m hanging up. If you call again, I won’t be here.”
She slammed the receiver back in the cradle. That did it for her. She needed to get out of here and find Sheri right away.
Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, reminding her she also needed food. She’d left Tampa two hours ago with only a large Starbucks in her stomach, and said stomach was now sending her signals. She remembered the housekeeper kept the fridge and the freezer stocked with basics so she could just fix herself something if she wanted to. But the eerie feeling wouldn’t let go.
Sheri had said to call or come by as soon as she got into town, and right now seemed like a very good time to do that. Going straight to the police station seemed the best thing to do. She’d feel better seeing Sheri, anyway. Maybe she could help Devon put her feelings in perspective. The police had gone over the house thoroughly. Surely if something was out of whack, they’d have found it and told her. Something besides the jacked alarm system.
I’m just letting my mind play tricks on me. That has to be it.
Okay. That was it. She was getting out of here for a while. She’d head right for the police station and try to find out where things stood. She should have gone there right away. And she wanted to know what the latest was with the Coast Guard. The whole thing was still so unreal to her.
She walked through the house to the garage, still carrying the golf club and peeking around doors and walls. And feeling like an idiot. She found the extra remotes for the garage door and grabbed one, then hurried back through the house and out the front door. Without understanding why, she checked three times to make sure the front door was locked. She also looked carefully around as she got into her car, as if expecting to see someone peeking at her from behind the garage or one of the many massive trees that dotted the place.
Damn. If reporters might be hanging around, she’d better get that alarm fixed in a hurry. Anyone could get onto the property if they wanted to.