Chapter Four
Fueled by worry, Olivia drove back toward Scarlet Falls at maximum speed.
She detoured to Zoe’s office, cruised past the lot, then took the most likely route Zoe would have used to go home.
While the Prius hummed along, Olivia scanned the sides of the road.
But she saw no sign of Zoe’s Jeep. There were no vehicles on the shoulder. No SUV nose-down in the roadside ditch.
Olivia continued to the apartment complex where Zoe and Dylan lived on the outskirts of Scarlet Falls.
The K was missing on the sign for Hawk Meadow Apartments.
A half dozen two-story buildings surrounded a rectangular parking lot.
Brick facades were faded. Paint peeled from the wood trim.
Weeds grew through cracks in the asphalt and between the square slabs of the concrete walkways.
Though it was daylight now, she knew the exterior lighting was spotty and inadequate.
Could Zoe have been carjacked? Olivia circled the lot and was surprised to spot two cameras mounted on light poles.
Given the complex’s run-down nature, she hadn’t expected them to have any security at all.
After making a mental note to contact maintenance, Olivia parked in a guest spot and crossed the asphalt to Zoe’s numbered and empty space, but there was nothing on the ground. Nothing that Zoe might have dropped if she were accosted as she got out of her Jeep.
Cases were only that easy on TV.
Olivia strode to the apartment door on the first floor. Her knuckles had barely left the metal when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Dylan.
He waved her inside. “I thought you were the police.” He wore jeans and an untucked button-up blue shirt with a dark-red stain on the front.
At forty, he was eight years younger than Zoe.
Yet, lately, his face was looking . . . hard?
As if he’d lost weight or—impossibly—shed more body fat from his extremely lean frame.
Lines fanned from the corners of his eyes, and his shoulder-length dark hair looked uncombed. “They’re sending someone.”
“Good.” Olivia stepped inside. As usual, she shuddered as the cluttered space closed in on her.
Papers, mail, remotes, game controllers, dirty dishes, and used glasses covered tables and shelves.
Water rings and crumbs showed on any spot of bare furniture.
There wasn’t a coaster in sight. Zoe might be punctual, but she was not tidy. “Have you tried pinging Zoe’s cell?”
“Yes. No response.” He closed the door. “I tried to locate it on our Find My app too. Her phone isn’t showing up at all.” He exhaled hard. “What does that mean?”
“Maybe her battery ran out.” Olivia tried to be optimistic. There was no point in panicking Dylan. “Did you look for her last known position?”
“I don’t know how to do that. You know I’m not a tech guy.
I’m finally getting the hang of editing short videos and Reels.
” Dylan was a personal trainer. He’d recently launched a fitness influencer campaign.
He posted exercise and diet advice with the goal to use social media to sell workout equipment, clothing, protein drinks, and subscriptions to virtual workouts.
Olivia shrugged out of her jacket and turned toward the coat-tree. Outerwear occupied every hook. She draped her jacket over her arm. “Her Jeep doesn’t have emergency or locator services?”
“No. It’s too old,” Dylan said. “I’ve tried to get her to buy a new car, but you know how she is about that Jeep.”
“I do.”
Zoe had owned the same ancient Jeep Cherokee—she’d nicknamed it “Bestie”—as long as Olivia had known her.
“Would you help me find her?” Dylan asked.
“Of course. When did you see her last?”
“Yesterday. She came home for dinner, then went back to the office.” Dylan paused.
His breath hitched. “I tried to call her around midnight, but she didn’t pick up.
So I went to bed. I didn’t realize she didn’t come home until I woke up this morning.
I called Shannon, in case she heard from her.
” Shannon, Zoe, and Olivia attended the same yoga classes.
Sometimes they had lunch or coffee afterward.
Olivia made a mental note to talk to her. “She didn’t?”
“No.” He hadn’t called Olivia, though, and Wendy didn’t say he’d called her either.
“Did you know she was meeting me for an interview this morning?” Olivia asked.
Dylan shook his head. “I remember her mentioning it, but I didn’t remember that it was today. I just knew she was working today.” He turned toward the coat-tree behind the door and reached for a jacket. “I should go look for her.”
“Where?” Olivia asked.
“I guess I’ll start driving all the roads between here and her office. I don’t know what else to do.” He shrugged into the jacket.
“I already checked Stars Road on the way over here. But you need to talk to the police before you go anywhere,” Olivia reminded him.
“Right.” He leaned on the wall.
Olivia’s gaze dropped to the red stain on the front of his shirt.
Dylan followed her gaze with his own. He flushed. “Red wine. I just grabbed the closest clothes when I woke up and saw that Zoe wasn’t here.”
So, he’d been drinking last night. Olivia wandered toward the kitchen, which was just a few steps away.
Spices, bottles of cooking oil, and bags of snacks covered the countertops.
Burned liquid caked the electric stove. Two empty bottles of pinot noir sat on top of the recycling container.
Zoe enjoyed wine, but since she’d planned to go back to work, she wouldn’t have indulged.
Had Dylan finished two bottles all by himself?
That would explain why he hadn’t woken all night.
As if following her train of thought, he looked away, blushing again.
A muscle in his jaw flexed, as if he was going to explain, but a hard knock on the door jolted him.
He strode across the carpet and looked through the peephole.
“It’s the police.” He sounded relieved and opened the door, admitting two uniformed patrol officers.
The lead cop was older, with a slight paunch, graying hair, and a strong aura of competence.
The younger cop was a young blond woman with a thin face and piercing brown eyes.
The older partner led the way inside, removing his hat as he crossed the threshold. “I’m Officer Billings and this is Officer Hasty.” He pulled business cards from his pocket and handed one to Olivia and one to Dylan.
Officer Billings studied Dylan, while Officer Hasty was assessing the apartment. Her critical cop gaze passed over everything, missing nothing. She leaned forward to study a wedding photo.
“Tell us what happened, Mr. March,” Billings said.
“My name is Sanders. Zoe’s name is March.” He sounded annoyed. Because Zoe hadn’t changed her name or because the cop had called him by his wife’s last name?
Dylan launched into a quick rundown.
Billings nodded. “Has your wife ever stayed out all night before?”
“No.” Dylan shook his head emphatically. “Not unless it was planned ahead of time.”
Billings took Zoe’s basic information: name, physical description, and location of her office. Then he studied Dylan’s face as he asked, “Is it possible she just needed to get away?”
Dylan’s brow furrowed. “If she wanted to go on a trip, she would have told me and booked one.”
Billings pulled a small notebook and pen from his pocket. He clicked the pen with his thumb. “Does she do that often? Go on girls’ trips or just take off for a few days?”
“No,” Dylan said. “If she has to go somewhere, it’s usually work related.
She hosts a true crime podcast, unsolved murders or people who have been missing for a long time.
” He rolled a hand in the air. “That sort of thing. She interviews witnesses and family members, anyone involved with the case.” He licked his lips, then added, “She would never just leave without telling me.”
The hairs on the back of Olivia’s neck quivered. Dylan’s demeanor felt off.
“When was her last research trip?” Billings asked.
“A few months ago?” Dylan yanked his cell phone from his back pocket. “I can check my calendar.” He scrolled. “May nineteenth through the twenty-second. She stayed in a B and B in Summerton, New York. That’s a couple of hours west of here.”
“What was she researching on that trip?”
Dylan shook his head. “A case she was considering for the show. I don’t remember which one.”
“Has she made any enemies?” Billings asked. “Has her show angered any victims or criminals?”
“No.” Dylan shook his head. “Mostly she studies old cases. Ones from like, decades ago.”
Billings turned his attention to Olivia. “And you are?”
“A friend of Zoe’s.” Olivia introduced herself. “She was supposed to meet me this morning. When she didn’t show up, I called Dylan.”
Hasty stared at Olivia for a few seconds, as if trying to place her.
Billings glanced between Dylan and Olivia, his expression suspicious. Did they think there was something going on between them? Indignation heated Olivia’s cheeks, but she said nothing. Jumping to conclusions and overexplaining would only make her look guilty.
A shoe shuffled on the carpet. Olivia was almost startled to see Hasty in the kitchen. She hadn’t seen the cop move, but Hasty was quietly sweeping through the rest of the apartment. Their eyes met. The cop’s gaze was a one-way street, taking in all the information, giving away none.
“You tried to call her?” Billings asked.
“Several times. I also texted her. No response,” Dylan said. “I tried to locate her phone too. Nothing. Maybe her battery ran out.”
Billings nodded. “Or she turned it off.” He squinted harder at Dylan. “Has she ever done that before? Turned off her phone?”
Dylan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “No.”
“Not even if she’s working?” Billings’s voice rose.
Dylan sniffed. “She usually keeps it on silent.”
“What about in May, when she was on that research trip?” Billings’s brow arched.