Chapter 49. Holly
Holly
Holly sat on the beach, watching the sun rise over the ocean, light reflecting off the surf, which was especially rough today. Maybe there was a storm brewing out at sea. The wild, crashing waves against the shore felt like a prelude to disaster.
“Not Jade,” she whispered. “Not Jade.”
She had been awake all night worrying, and still no word. Her call to the police was even less helpful than she expected. At least she spoke to Finn, not Tommy Boy. Holly gave him Jade’s name, her useless parents’ phone number, and explained how the missing girl had disappeared again.
“We’ll look for her, I’ll put the word out there. Just know runaway teens are notoriously hard to locate when they don’t want to be found.”
“But I have reason to believe she’s in danger—that maybe this time, she didn’t run.”
“From my experience, the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. Holly, I understand you don’t trust the Carmichaels, but you have no real reason to believe Jade is in any trouble.
Now, I know you’ve been through a hellish week—looking at the evidence from your sister’s case, finding the lawyer’s body—I’m sure there’s a lot of trauma coming up. ”
Holly had felt crestfallen. Even Finn didn’t take her seriously. How condescending to blame all her worry on past trauma. Jade was in danger, she knew it, and Finn was treating Holly like a dramatic child.
“I promise we’ll do our jobs,” he continued, as if that settled matters. “I’ll file that report—I just want you to have reasonable expectations. But my honest advice? Call a friend, get some support, and trust that we’ll do our job.”
A friend? Holly wasn’t sure who she could lean on for help. She wished Shae wasn’t thousands of miles away.
Serena came to mind. Maybe she should put more faith in the psychic’s abilities. Perhaps if she focused hard enough, she could intuit Jade’s whereabouts. But the necklace and her reaction to it—what did all that mean? The best approach would be to ask her directly. What could it hurt?
Just as Holly crested the bluff from the beach, she saw a figure standing on her front step.
Maybe Serena really was psychic because there she was, knocking on Holly’s front door.
Holly hurried across the street, greeting Serena with a hug.
Her hair was messy, and her long-sleeved T-shirt was slightly wrinkled.
It appeared she had just rolled out of bed, but she was carrying a tray with two coffees from the Bean There Café.
“Serena, are—are you okay?”
“I’m sorry to show up early like this, but I couldn’t sleep. Is Jade here? I had the worst dream about her. I’m afraid it was a premonition.”
Holly gulped, opening the door for Serena to come inside. “And I’m afraid you might be right.”
Hours later, Holly’s mind was still reeling from all Serena had shared. In her dream, a strong wind had knocked Jade off a cliffside walking path. She fell into a dense fog and landed in an underground cavern.
“The cavern represents primal ground, where both growth and rot set in. The fog symbolizes unknown influences—a loss of control, same as the wind pushing her off her path,” Serena said.
“What’s it all mean?” Holly wanted to know.
“If it’s a premonition, and I believe it is, then it means someone has taken her, and they’re holding her against her will. I believe she’s alive, but she’s not safe.”
Holly’s intuition told her who had taken Jade. She had no doubt. The Carmichaels were behind her disappearance, just like they were to blame for Anna’s death. As fate would have it, Holly had the perfect excuse to go looking around Miramar.
Initially, she had no interest in attending Maeve’s show-off beach soiree, but once she realized it offered the ideal opportunity to search for Jade, Holly sprang into action.
She spent the afternoon shopping and preparing.
She splurged on a floral-patterned beach dress with some of her dwindling funds—no time for bargain shopping.
She also purchased a pair of flats to wear while canvassing the creepy gothic estate.
After all Serena had shared, Holly felt she could trust her.
But she needed more help if she was going to pull this off.
She needed a team. Holly called Gail, who would be at the party—no way would her friend miss a social (read: gossip-filled) event like this, where she could also find potential high-end real estate clients. But would she agree to help?
Upon hearing her plan, Gail gasped. “That all sounds very dangerous. Maybe it’s best to let the police do their thing.”
“Their thing? Like neglecting cases and leaving murderers wandering the streets? I can’t do that. Jade needs me, and I am not going to let her down.”
Gail sighed, reluctantly accepting Holly’s declaration. “Okay, I’ll be there, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to let me in on your half-baked scheme. I’ll help in any way I can.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll see you at the party.” Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes, but Holly wouldn’t let herself cry. If she started, she might not stop. And she had far too much to do.
When she hung up, she noticed another text from Ethan. It was the second message he’d sent that day.
Hey, just hoping we can chat. Got done with work early today. Give me a call.
Holly didn’t call. She had to keep her mind laser-focused, and talking to Ethan would do nothing but throw her off-balance.
It was nearing six o’clock. The party would start at seven.
Holly was too stressed to have an appetite, but she needed her strength, so she rifled through her refrigerator looking for anything that could pass for a well-rounded meal, or even partially well-rounded.
A semicircle would do, Holly thought wryly. And that was about what she found.
She lamented her lack of skills in the kitchen, but even she could stir-fry a few vegetables and make some rice. She put a drizzle of olive oil in the pan to heat, adding some coarsely chopped onions and peppers. Luckily, she had instant rice available, so the meal wouldn’t take long.
As dinner cooked, she turned her attention to Chester, who was meowing at her feet. His meal required significantly less preparation. She plopped the contents of a small can of cat food into his dish, cringing at the smell, and was about to return to the stove when she heard a knock at the door.
Jesus, this is the last thing I need, Holly fumed. God help the Jehovah’s Witnesses, if that’s who was on the other side. With her anxiety maxed out, she might explode at the slightest provocation.
Holly opened the door with more force than intended, and it practically flew off its hinges.
“Careful, or I’ll have more work to do,” joked Ethan, who stood in front of her with a half smile, the evening light dancing in his eyes.
Holly’s frustration and fear ebbed for a moment. Ethan took her breath away. He was usually dressed in his work clothes, but tonight he had on khaki-colored drawstring beach pants and a soft coral linen shirt over a white cotton tee.
He must have realized she was at a loss for words. “But seriously, sorry for just showing up like this. You didn’t answer my messages, and I think I know what happened the other day. I’d really like a chance to explain.”
Before Ethan could say another word, a blaring, piercing sound filled their ears.
Oh, shit! The smoke detector.
Ethan rushed past Holly, seeing the source of the smoke immediately—the dinner Holly had neglected on the stove. Thinking quickly, he reached into the cabinet under the counter, grabbing the fire extinguisher Holly didn’t even know she had.
He removed the lock and pressed the nozzle, the spray covering her dinner, her stove, and much of her countertop.
Smoke permeated the kitchen, everything coated in a haze as the alarm continued to blare.
Holly stood stock-still. In the low light, Ethan looked like a blurry silhouette by her stove, extinguishing the blaze with the efficiency of a pro.
Holly’s vision dimmed. She felt woozy, unsteady on her feet.
Images began to flash in front of her. The crowd.
The commotion. The heat, the flames. Fear and a deep knowing gnawing in the pit of her stomach.
And Ethan. It was Ethan, coming out of those flames, covered in soot and sweat.
Ethan, into whose arms she had crumpled.
Once again, his arms caught her—the same arms, but almost twenty years older.
Holly leaned against him. “It was you … You were the one who comforted me the night my sister died. My headaches. It was my memories, trying to break through. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Holly steadied herself. Ethan gently released his hold to hit the button on the smoke detector, silencing the alarm. The emergency was over.
He wrapped his arms around her once more, this time tighter, pulling her into a bear hug.
“I didn’t want to say anything that would trigger you. You obviously didn’t recognize me when I came to the house, but I’ve never forgotten you. I’ve carried that night with me—still do. I thought you’d remember eventually, when you were ready.”
He buried his face in her hair. Holly finally let the tears come. She allowed herself to feel everything: the loss, the fear, the deep pain, but also the love. She had lost so much, yet the pain was proof that love made life worth living. She felt it right here, right now, in Ethan’s arms.
Drying her eyes, Holly pulled out of the hug. “I need a glass of water—and a little fresh air.”
They opened the windows, letting in a breeze, the tang of salt air pushing aside the smoky residue.
“At least you know the new smoke detectors work.” Ethan chuckled.
“That’s right, thanks to my handyman, and what—part-time firefighter, who had the foresight to buy a fire extinguisher?” Holly was puzzled.
“Yeah, that’s right. Beauport has an all-volunteer fire department, and I’ve been on it since my twenties.
Believe me, plenty of people regret not making that simple purchase.
I wasn’t going to let you be one of them.
My dad was a firefighter, too, so the lessons are ingrained in my DNA.
Which reminds me—one of the reasons I came by tonight was to show you this report. ”
Holly took a big swig of water as Ethan removed a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “My friend at the gas company came through. You definitely need to see this.”
Holly opened the paper slowly. What she read chilled her heart.
Right there, in black and white—with no signs of Wite-Out, erasures, or any other changes—the report stated: Markings near valve indicate possibility of tampering.