Chapter 4 Matt
MATT
Matt couldn’t shake the knot in his stomach.
It sat there, solid and sour, as if he had swallowed a stone.
He had seen that look in his daughter’s eyes too many times growing up.
The small darting glance, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way her voice carried one beat too fast. Alisha had lied to him, and badly.
She had told him she needed to head to Key West to fix a paper she hadn’t graded correctly, something she could only download from the library there. It was flimsy, the sort of excuse a teenager might offer, not a grown woman who should know better. And like always, his daughter wasn’t a good liar.
So he had gone to Carrie the moment Alisha was gone.
“Something’s off,” he told her, his voice low and urgent. “She said she had to go to the library in Key West to recheck a paper. That’s a lie. She was never good at it.”
Carrie’s face had been steady, her eyes sharp with the same concern he felt. She told him then about Cheryl Winters showing up at her doorstep the day before, claiming to be Delia’s daughter. And about Tessa’s warning: don’t tell anyone yet, not until she can confirm if the woman is really Cheryl.
It set Matt’s nerves rattling. If Cheryl Winters was anywhere near Key West and Alisha had walked off alone, then his daughter was in danger.
Now here they were, moving through the patched-up streets of Key West, following the glowing green dot on Carrie’s phone. The “Find Your Family” app had become their lifeline.
Matt’s boots scuffed against damp pavement as they crossed another street. Piles of broken branches lined the curb. Shopkeepers were sweeping glass out of doorways. The storm had already faded into yesterday for the town, but Matt felt as though it had burrowed into his bones.
“Are you sure Andy’s the best person to be looking after the kids?” he asked for what felt like the tenth time. The thought of Cody and Maggie at home without Alisha, Carrie, or him gnawed at Matt. He wasn’t feeling very trusting right now.
“Yes,” Carrie said, her voice calm but clipped, eyes on the dot that pulsed across her screen. “I did a full background check on him the moment the internet came back up. He’s clean. And he’s happy to do it.”
“Because he thinks you’ll put in a good word to have him transferred to Boston,” Matt muttered.
“Well, I am,” she answered, stepping briskly and then pointing. “There! Alisha’s gone this way.”
They turned down a narrower street. The green dot stopped. Carrie slowed, tugging him behind a tree with low branches that had been bent by the storm.
“According to her phone, Alisha is in that café.” Carrie’s voice was low as if they could hear her from this distance.
Carrie angled her shoulder close to him. So close that Matt could smell her shampoo and the faint sweetness of her perfume. His pulse stuttered in spite of everything.
Carrie sucked in her breath suddenly, startling Matt from his thoughts.
“What is it?” Matt hissed.
“Look,” she whispered and pressed a pair of binoculars into his hands.
He lifted them, surprised she had even packed them. His eyes locked on the window of the café. His stomach dropped.
“That’s Trent,” he muttered. Then his throat tightened. “And Alisha. Are they—holding hands?”
Carrie snatched the binoculars back, adjusted them, and her jaw hardened. “Yes. They are.”
Heat climbed Matt’s chest. “Do you think she acted the way she did just to meet Trent? For a date?”
Carrie didn’t answer right away. Her lips pressed together, and when she finally spoke, her tone was careful. “Come on. We need to follow them. But not so close they’ll notice.”
Matt’s mind spun as they moved. Part of him wanted to be glad.
Maybe his daughter was finally moving on.
Maybe she was finding something—someone.
But the other part of him felt raw and betrayed.
She hadn’t trusted him with the truth. And worse, she had chosen Carrie’s son.
A man who might be on the right side of this or might be the enemy.
Carrie’s hand brushed his as she pointed across the street. “Wait. There’s someone else following them.”
“Who?” Matt scanned the flow of people, the storm cleanup crew, the dog walkers, the tourists creeping back into town.
“That woman. Right there by the lamppost.” Carrie’s tone was tight.
Matt narrowed his eyes. Dark hair. Midlife smart. She didn’t belong to the scene. Too focused, too controlled.
“What makes you think she’s following them?” he asked.
“Because they just ducked into that store, and she waited a few beats before slipping in after them.” Carrie’s fingers caught his. “This way.”
His pulse jumped at the sudden pressure of her hand. It wasn’t the time, but his chest tightened anyway as she pulled him along.
They skirted past the storefront.
“Aren’t we going in?” Matt asked.
Carrie shook her head. “No. Trent will use a back door.”
“I know where that is.” Matt kept his voice low and suddenly felt useful on this mission that was way out of his depth. He’d never followed or staked out anyone in his life. “I went there for boxes when I packed up Delia Winters’ place.”
Sure enough, they reached the back entrance just as Trent and Alisha slipped out.
Matt exhaled. “I take it Trent knows they’re being followed.”
“Yup,” Carrie said, nodding and giving Matt a reassuring smile. “And that’s a good thing for us.”
“How so?” Matt asked, not at all pleased, that someone was following his daughter.
“It means all Trent’s attention is on watching her, not us.” She moved, and he followed her lead.
Matt and Carrie shadowed the pair through a tangle of streets like they were in some spy movie. At last, Trent and Alisha disappeared into a sleek apartment building that gleamed against the battered street.
“What do you think they’re up to?” Matt hissed. “Meeting for a date?”
Carrie gave him a look of disbelief. “No. I think they’re playing it up so whoever’s tailing them thinks it’s a date.” She hesitated, though, and he caught the flicker of doubt in her eyes.
“Then why go into an apartment building?” Matt asked. His anger boiled.
“I don’t care who my son works for.” One of Carrie’s brows rose skeptically.
“There is no way on this green earth that my son can afford to live in that building.” She pulled out her phone and dialed quickly.
“But I have an idea who might.” She was interrupted when a cheery voice echoed through the earpiece. “Hi, Gwen, it’s Captain Ware.”
Matt listened as she exchanged pleasantries before asking for an address search on Dick Stanstead and Paula Day.
When she hung up, her eyes met his. “It’s Dick Stanstead’s place.”
“What are they up to?” Matt muttered.
“Investigating,” Carrie said. She checked her watch. “Let’s give them a few minutes and then go up and find out.”
“No,” Matt shook his head. Shock zinged through Matt. Is she serious? “Absolutely not. If we do, they’ll know we were spying on them.”
Carrie paused, weighing it, then nodded. “Good point.” Her eyes flicked across the street. “Why don’t we get ice cream while we wait? That way we can watch from a distance and hopefully not be spotted.”
He blinked. “Ice cream?” and his head turned to see the vendor cart across the street.
“While we wait,” Carrie repeated. “I know you love the stuff. I’ve seen your freezer.” Her eyes took on a teasing light. She was right. Matt did love ice cream.
“Sure, why not?” Matt said. “At least then, if we do get caught, we can feign being out for a walk together.”
“I doubt they’d buy that,” Carrie laughed. “But I guess we could try and spin it.”
A few minutes later, they sat on a bench, cones in hand, angled so they could see the apartment entrance without being seen themselves.
It was absurd, sitting there eating ice cream while dread chewed holes in his gut.
But the cold sweetness steadied him, gave his hands something to do; the icy cold froze his brain and stopped it from thinking up ridiculous scenarios involving Alisha and Trent.
Matt was starting to relax as they ate their ice cream and talked about the storm, about how quickly the town was already piecing itself back together.
For a few breaths, it felt almost normal and not as if they were spying on his daughter and Carrie’s son.
Then the wail of sirens shattered the calm.
An ambulance pulled up in front of the apartment. Two black SUVs slid to the curb behind it.
Carrie instantly stiffened and sat up alert. “Look there,” she said, squinting.
Matt’s breath caught as he recognized Paula Day stepping out of one of the black SUVs.
Gone were the overly bright flowing tops and pants topped with a ridiculously wide-brimmed hat with an equally bright scarf wrapped around it.
She was all trim in a tailored pantsuit that, even from this distance, Matt could tell had been made for her with a hefty price tag.
“Just who is Paula Day?” Carrie said through gritted teeth.
“I’m wondering that myself,” Matt said. “And at the same time, hoping she has a twin sister. Otherwise, there really is no one in Florida we can trust.”
Carrie stood and was about to pull them closer to the scene when her body went rigid. She turned, and before Matt understood what was happening, she pushed him back, just behind the bench. Her hands pressed to his chest, and her lips caught his.
The kiss stunned him. Heat shot down his spine, his arms rising instinctively to hold her.
For a moment, the street and the sirens and the gnawing dread all faded, replaced by the rush of her mouth against his.
Then the bark of dogs jolted him back, and Carrie pulled away quickly, her head snapping toward the ice cream cart.
“That’s her,” she whispered. “The woman tailing Alisha and Trent.”
Matt’s eyes followed, and sure enough, the brunette stood at the cart, pretending to study the flavors while her attention tilted toward the building across the street.
The door opened.
Alisha stepped out.
Matt and Carrie shrank back behind the bench as Alisha crossed to the cart. The brunette slid closer, smiling, ordering a cone.
Then everything moved too fast. A car screeched to the curb. There was a yelp from Alisha as the brunette shoved Alisha toward it. The door shot open, and hands reached out to grab her, dragging Alisha inside before the door slammed shut and the car peeled away from the curb.
Matt surged forward, fury pounding through him. But Carrie’s grip stopped him cold.
“No. I’ll follow the car,” Carrie said. “You get Trent. Tell him to use the same app I used to track him. I’m on his app.”
“Why can’t I go?” Matt demanded. “And you get Trent?”
“Because I’m the one with a gun and a badge.” She waved down a cab. Before he could argue, she was gone.
Moments later, Trent burst from the building with Paula beside him. They had a quick exchange before Trent moved away from Paula and headed across the street. His brow furrowed as he glanced around and leaned in to ask the ice cream vendor, “Have you seen a young lady—”
“She’s been taken,” Matt snapped.
“Matt?” Trent looked at him in surprise. “What… who?” His expression changed.
“By the woman who was following you. Your mother’s chasing them now in a cab.” Matt’s hand shook as his phone beeped and he fumbled for it.
Trent’s face went white. He hailed a cab instantly, pulling Matt with him.
As they slid inside, Matt’s phone buzzed again. Two messages from Carrie lit the screen:
The woman who took Alisha is Cheryl Winters.
She mentioned that she was staying at a hotel in Key West when she came around earlier. Tell Trent to get his people to find out where she’s staying in case he loses my signal.
Matt’s chest tightened. Cheryl Winters had Alisha.
For the first time since he’d bought Delia Winters' house, Matt was beginning to regret it and wish he could turn back time. But his heart squeezed as a little voice said: Then you’d never have met Carrie—your second chance at love.
As the taxi followed Trent's directions, Matt's mind was in turmoil. Was love worth all this danger it was putting his family and Carrie’s in? A warmth suddenly drifted over him, and he could’ve sworn he heard his late wife’s voice: It will all work out as it should.
Trent turned and looked at Matt curiously. “Did you say something?”
“No.” Matt shook his head.
“Weird, I could’ve sworn I just heard someone whisper…” Trent shook his head. “Never mind. I’m probably just hearing things.”
That’s when Matt knew it was going to work out and that Sherri was right there looking out for them.