Chapter 5
Chapter five
Cal
To whomever finds this, please give it to the police.
Rose,
Tell Maggie I’m sorry. I tried.
Live your best life.
I love you.
Rose’s angelic voice reads the note, each word coming out on a strangled sob.
She pauses for a moment and then hands the note back to Denny. “Yes. That’s my mom’s handwriting.”
My hand tightens around the chair as a way to control myself since all I want to do is touch her. It’s euphoric, being this close to her again. Standing behind her only reminds me of our date.
The day I regret most in my whole life.
Pushing that moment out of the recesses of my thoughts—which isn’t easy since I think about it almost daily—I redirect my attention to Denny.
Or Richard Dennison.
Denny is the best captain and cop on this force. The man’s work ethic is unmatched, and I admire the hell out of him.
People have accused him of being gruff. Rude, even mean at times. And well, they aren’t wrong. I think I’m the only one who has seen the more human side. So, I had to tell him to be gentler in his approach to this case. He is a hurry-and-let’s-get-the-case-solved kinda guy.
But I don’t want Rose to be rushed or upset. So when I see a lone tear fall down her cheek ... it’s doing two things to me. One, find and take out the psycho who has kidnapped her mom, and two, trip over my own two feet to get her a tissue.
Which is exactly what I do. The second she becomes upset, I spin to grab one from the windowsill and almost fall on my face handing it to her. Denny snickers, which annoys me.
Because he knows.
He knows that the last time Rose and I worked together, I fell in love with her.
He knows that I rejected her on that sidewalk.
He knows my insecurities about relationships.
He knows that after our almost-kiss, I was an idiot and pushed her away by being a first-class jerk to her, which only caused us to argue. I’m sure she thinks I hate her, and I wouldn’t blame her. I hate myself.
And why?
Because the day before our date, I found out she was talking to someone.
Niko. One night, while we were working, she left her phone on the passenger seat of my car while she used the bathroom at a Wendy’s.
And okay, yes, I looked. It was Niko. There were texts.
Lots of them. Texts you send to someone you are interested in and close to dating.
I panicked at the thought of missing my chance, so I asked her out as soon as she got back in the car.
But then, that night, as I held her in my arms, and her lips grazed mine, I realized something.
Who was I to waltz in and implode her life?
Or any plans she may have had. Plus, my luck with women has been awful.
Rose is perfect. Too perfect. It felt wrong to pull her into my complicated life and job. So I bolted.
You don’t have to say it. Stupid, I know.
Once our month-long stint was up, I bid her farewell and dove headfirst into the dating scene to rid myself of thoughts of her.
Didn’t work.
Because no one compares to Rose Sheridan.
Then, one day, about a month later, I decided to shoot my shot and reach out to her.
First, to apologize for being a complete idiot.
And to ask her out. As long as she didn’t hang up on me, which was a real possibility.
I was a hot mess that day while her phone rang.
My palms were sweating as I watched the snow fall outside my office window. Then someone answered.
“Hello.” A man’s greeting hit my ear, and it felt like someone punched me in the gut.
“Ummm … hey. Is Rose available?” Hope filled my question as I was praying I had the wrong number. Or maybe this was a family member or something.
“She’s in the shower, but this is her boyfriend. Anything I can help you with?”
Instantly, I stiffened as heat shot straight to my brain. I wanted to know if this was exactly who I thought it was. “Is this Niko?”
“Yes.” He paused, then asked, irritation lacing his tone, “Do I know you?”
It was at that moment I knew I had screwed up. I blew my one and only chance with the woman of my dreams. So without another word, I hung up. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.
Her curves. Her ski-slope nose. Her red lips. Her curls. God, her hair.
Now, call it fate or divine intervention, she is back in my world as a newly single woman.
And look, I know her mom is missing, and she’s upset, yet unexpectedly, I’m happy.
Gingerly, she grabs the tissue from my hand. “Thank you.” Her small voice, despite being in this dire situation, sounds like a song. I have to get myself under control. Finding Diane Sheridan is the most important thing. Not my unresolved feelings for her daughter.
She blows her nose, then turns her attention back to Denny. My hand reaches for her shoulder, but I pull back. “So what happens now?” she asks, with that old Rose bite surfacing.
“Maggie is your cousin, correct?” I ask.
She turns to look up at me, shocked that I knew this. “Yes, she is. And I’m as confused as you are that my mom would write that.”
Denny sits down in the seat next to Rose, tapping the desk with his finger. “Ms. Sheridan, we need you to call Maggie. Once we saw the note today, we went to her residence to see if she would be willing to talk to us. She wasn’t home.”
Rose’s eyes fly open. “Yes, she’s in Italy. So you want me to call her right here, right now?” Confusion wraps around each word.
“Yes. Right now.” Denny’s answer leaves zero room for negotiation.
“Maggie had nothing to do with this!” she yells out, indignant.
Clearly this is agitating Rose, and I want to calm her since I hate seeing her upset. Why, I don’t know.
Who am I kidding? I know why.
Pivoting from around the chair, I stand and face her as her intoxicating perfume fills my nose, making me unsteady.
Using my desk for support, since my legs are now weak, I brace my hands on its edge.
“We aren’t accusing her of anything. Your mom wrote a note to you while in what was more than likely the darkest and scariest moment of her life.
We don’t know what was going through her head or what was happening when she wrote this.
But it’s our job to find out what she meant.
And if Maggie’s name is mentioned, then”—I shrug—“don’t you think you owe it to your mom to find out? ”
Rose lowers her chin, her jaw tightening as she fumbles in her purse. “I’m so confused. This makes no sense.” She gets out her phone but hesitates. “I need a second.”
Both Denny and I nod, staying silent while Rose processes. Finally, she refocuses on me.
“Is there anything specific I should say, or not say?”
Denny answers first. “Let her know where you are and who’s with you and what we found. We will introduce ourselves and ask the questions. If she veers the conversation to you, don’t ask why her name is on the note. Let her offer any information. Whether that be an explanation or denial. Got it?”
Rose nods and rests her phone down on the desk. Her lock screen pops up, and it’s a photo of her and Niko. I scoff, but she hears it.
Her gaze snaps to me. “Give me a break. I haven’t had a chance to change that yet.”
Crossing my arms to hide the tightness that’s forming, I sigh. They broke up, but she clearly isn’t over the guy. My next words come out sharper than I want. “That’s none of my business, Ms. Sheridan.”
But, my God, do I wish it were.
We lock eyes for a moment, then she looks away, unlocking her phone and finding Maggie’s number.
She slides the phone so that it’s closer to me and Denny and then hits speaker as the phone rings. Maggie answers on the first ring.
“You’re finally calling! What did the detective say?” Commotion fills the background.
“Where are you?” Rose asks. “It’s like really late over there, isn’t it?”
“It is! But Rose, the clubs stay open until like six a.m. over here. It’s crazy. Katerina and I finally made it to the first bar. It’s called La Maschera. You should see it!”
“Is that Italian for—”
“The Mask. Yep! And the guy I just met. Rose, he’s so gorgeous.”
Rose smiles, obviously happy for her cousin. “Nice.”
“He’s your typical hot Italian guy. Tall, dark hair, thick accent…
” Rose looks over at Denny as Maggie continues her description, and he rolls his hand with a wrap-this-up gesture.
Rose nods in understanding, cutting off Maggie.
“He sounds amazing, Maggie, but it’s really important that I talk to you right now. ”
“Of course. Give me a second and let me get somewhere quieter.” The commotion fades gradually. “Okay, that’s better. Sorry, I was excited. Give me all the details. Did you give them hell?”
Rose winces.
Denny grunts.
I grin.
Rose continues. “Well, actually, they called me down to the precinct. Someone found Mom’s purse tossed away and hidden in the parking garage of the Black Onyx.
I’m here with them now, and they wanted to ask you a few questions.
They went to your house to talk to you in person, but obviously, you weren’t there. ”
“Okay. I understand. This is nerve-wracking, though.”
Denny hinges forward, closer to the phone. “Ms. Colbert, this is Captain Richard Dennison. Rose and I are here with Detective Cal Masters. There’s no reason to be nervous. We just have a few routine questions for you.”
Silence.
Denny's eyes flick me, then he continues. “Like Rose said, we tried reaching you in person, but with you being out of the country, it’s important that we called now. We wanted to make sure we talked to you sooner rather than later.”
“I get it, but what does this have to do with me?”
Now it’s my turn. “Ms. Colbert, this is Detective Masters. Along with the purse, we also came into possession of a note Diane wrote, we suspect, prior to her being abducted. It reads as follows.” I read the note to her and watch as Rose sucks in a breath at her mother’s words.
“Now, I’m sure you understand this is raising some concerns. ”
“I get it. That is … strange.” Her tone jumps an octave.