Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
After the last photo and final autograph, they regrouped backstage, relief settling over them like a collective exhale. Andi rolled her shoulders, suddenly aware of how tight everything felt—how much energy it took to stay present for that long.
A man stepped toward them from the edge of the room, moving with quiet confidence. He wore a SafeStride badge clipped neatly to his jacket, his posture relaxed but alert in a way Andi had learned to recognize.
“Hey.” He offered a hand to Duke first. “I’m Ben Callahan, SafeStride liaison.”
Duke gave him a firm handshake. “I appreciate you stepping in earlier.”
“Old habits die hard.” Ben said with an easy shrug. His eyes flicked briefly toward the crowd beyond the curtain, then back. “Former Army.”
That got a faint smile from Duke. “CID.”
“Figures.” The corner of Ben’s mouth lifted. “You move like it.”
Andi watched the exchange, noting how the tension in Duke’s shoulders eased just a fraction—enough to tell her he trusted this man or at least recognized the same instincts in him.
“You’re a rep for SafeStride?” Duke asked.
Ben was quiet for a moment. “I actually started the company.”
“Impressive,” Andi said.
“I actually didn’t start SafeStride because I wanted to build a company,” he said finally. “My niece went missing when she was seven. For three hours. Long enough for everyone to tell us she’d probably wandered off, that kids do that.” His jaw tightened. “I knew better.”
“That must have been scary,” Andi said.
Ben exhaled slowly. “She was found. She was okay. But those three hours? It was wasted because no one believed it was serious yet. I couldn’t get past that.
So I built a response team that didn’t have to wait for permission.
A team that answered the one question that mattered—where are they right now? ”
Duke didn’t speak right away. He studied Ben, the set of his shoulders, the controlled edge beneath the words.
“Any delay can get people hurt,” Duke said at last. “You saw a gap and closed it. I appreciate that.”
Ben met his gaze. More tension eased.
“Anyway, I’ll be with you for the remainder of the tour,” Ben said. “Even though I’m officially a sponsor, I’d be more than happy to be another set of eyes for you.”
“That would be helpful,” Duke said. “We won’t turn down the extra help. People can be unhinged.”
Ben nodded once, then stepped back, already scanning the room again.
Before anyone could speak, Rupert swooped in, clipboard in hand and expression pulled tight.
“Wonderful job. Absolutely wonderful!” He lowered his voice. “Now—quick reminder—you’re slated for a live local news segment this evening. Six p.m. Sharp. Studio’s in the city, so plan for extra drive time due to traffic.”
Andi’s brain immediately started clicking through logistics—time, travel, energy, what they could and couldn’t say on air.
Another appearance. Another audience.
Another chance for someone to be watching.
She tucked the thought away as the team began to shift again, already moving on to whatever came next.
It was barely four o’clock. That meant they had two hours.
Two full hours to make the most of things.
Urgency pressed on her. Every impulse told her to drop everything to investigate, but she knew she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair to ignore the obligations she was contractually bound to perform.
Mariella must have seen the conflict on her face because she turned, eyes sharp and knowing.
She gave Andi a small nod. “We can hold down the fort here and make Rupert happy. You and Duke should go see what you can find out. We don’t have much time left here.”
Andi didn’t hesitate. “Emily still hasn’t called back, but—”
Just then, her phone buzzed in her hand.
She checked the screen, and her eyes widened. “What timing . . . it’s Emily.” She answered and put the phone to her ear. “Emily? Hi, thank you for calling me back.”
A pause filled the line.
Then Emily’s voice—thin and nervous—sounded. “I got your message. I—I can’t talk long. But I can meet you. Somewhere public.”
“That’s fine,” Andi said. “Name the place. We’re in Santa Clara right now, so it might take a few minutes to reach you.”
Emily named a coffeehouse halfway between San Francisco and Santa Clara, and they agreed to meet there in thirty minutes—that’s how long the GPS said it would take to get there.
Andi slipped the phone into her pocket and looked up at Duke. “We’ve got our opening.”
He nodded once. “Let’s go.”
The coffeehouse was too bright for Duke’s liking.
Sunlight poured through the front windows, glinting off chrome fixtures and chalkboard menus advertising seasonal drinks. The air smelled like roasted beans and steamed milk, comfort layered over noise—cups clinking, indie music humming, people talking too loudly about nothing important.
Andi sat across from him at a small round table near the wall, hands wrapped around a cup she hadn’t touched yet. Duke had ordered black coffee. He’d finished half of it already.
Emily was fifteen minutes late. He wasn’t sure exactly what she looked like, but her body language should indicate she was looking for someone.
He checked the entrance again, hoping to see her walk through.
“She might not come.” Andi frowned as her gaze drifted to the door again. “She sounded spooked.”
If she ghosted them, Duke wouldn’t blame her. The woman had to be extra cautious after everything that had happened.
Another minute passed.
Then the door opened, and a young woman stepped inside, pausing just long enough to scan the room like a skittish animal assessing danger.
Emily.
She looked thinner than Duke expected. Shoulders pulled in, coat zipped to her neck, dark hair twisted into a messy knot.
Her gaze snagged on everyone in the place before finally landing on Andi.
Quick and fragile relief flashed across her face.
She hesitantly approached the table. “Andi?”
Andi rose. “Yes, I’m Andi, and this is Duke. Thank you for meeting us.”
“I looked you up after the phone call. Recognized you two from the pictures online. You guys have done some impressive work.” Emily slid into the chair opposite Duke, dropping her bag at her feet like she might need to run. Her leg bounced under the table.
“Would you like us to order you some coffee?” Duke nodded toward the counter, indicating he’d get it for her.
Emily quickly shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I’m too jittery for caffeine right now anyway.”
Andi leaned forward, her gaze soft with compassion. “You do seem nervous.”
Emily let out a shaky laugh. “Is it that obvious?”
“Anyone in your shoes would be,” Andi said.
Emily’s eyes flicked to the windows then the door before landing on them again. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But ever since Gina disappeared, I keep wondering if I might be next.”
Duke’s spine tightened.
“There’s no reason to think that,” Andi assured her.
“I know.” Emily shrugged. “Logically, I know. But logic doesn’t do much at three in the morning when you hear a noise and your heart tries to claw its way out of your chest.”
Fear was a terrible thing to live with. Duke knew all about that.
“Did the police talk to you?” Andi hugged her coffee mug with her fingers.
Emily snorted softly. “Yeah. Detective Hawkins came, asked some questions, took notes. I don’t think he took the situation very seriously. I’m just the roommate who slept through the whole thing.”
Duke didn’t miss the bitterness under her words.
Andi shifted in her seat. “Tell us about Gina. What is she like day to day?”
Emily’s expression softened. “Gina is great. She’s driven.
Organized. Borderline obsessive about control.
” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “She color-codes her calendar and labels leftovers in the fridge. But she’s .
. . kind. She would always check in on me to make sure I have everything I need. ”
“I understand your family knows her family,” Duke said. “Is that right?”
“That’s correct. Ever since I was involved in a carjacking in Chicago, I’ve had some anxiety. I needed to move somewhere for a fresh start, but I didn’t want to be alone. Gina was generous enough to open up her apartment to me. She’s like a big sister in that way.”
Duke watched her hands as she spoke—fidgeting, twisting the sleeve of her burnt-orange sweater.
“We heard she disappeared once before for two weeks,” Andi said. “Do you know anything about that?”
Emily released a puff of air through her nose.
“I heard about that. It was before I moved here. She mentioned it once and said she just needed a mental health break and she didn’t think anyone would miss her.
She even left her phone behind so no one could reach her.
She had no idea it was going to turn into what it did. ”
“And what did it turn into?”
“A local news station got involved. People put together searches and online campaigns.” Emily shook her head. “When she returned and found out what was going on, she was truly embarrassed.”
Andi’s jaw tightened. “What about Colin? Did Gina ever mention feeling unsafe around him?”
Emily hesitated, nibbling on her bottom lip a moment.
“I mean . . . they’d just broken up when I moved in.
But she told me about him, which made me not like him.
From what I understood, he was intense and jealous, the kind of guy who got upset if she didn’t answer her phone or text back fast enough.
But Gina always insisted she had it under control. ”
“Is there any reason you think he might be involved in this?” Duke asked.
Her eyebrows flicked up. “I . . . I don’t know. Maybe. He . . . he does have a cabin up in the mountains. Well, his family does. Maybe his uncle. Should someone check there?”
Andi exchanged a glance with Duke before saying, “Yes, we definitely should. You don’t know the address, do you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“It’s okay.” Duke grabbed his phone. “Our tech guy is a genius. He should be able to find it.”
He shot off a quick message to Matthew.
Emily let out a shaky breath and pulled out her phone. “I—I have pictures I thought you might want to see. From hiking, a party, random stuff. I thought it might give you a better feel for Gina.”
She scrolled, then turned the screen toward them.
Duke leaned in.
There was Gina—smiling on a trail, hair pulled back, cheeks flushed from exertion. Gina at what looked like a holiday party. Gina holding a mug far too large for her hands.
Andi paused at one photo. “Who’s that?”
In the photo, Gina stood with another woman, arm slung casually around her shoulders. The woman was older—maybe mid-thirties with a confident posture and familiar smile.
Emily glanced at the screen. “That’s Pam. Gina’s sister.”
Duke’s pulse jumped.
Andi froze before asking, “What? Are you sure?”
Emily frowned, a wrinkle between her eyes. “Of course. I’ve known Pam since I was twelve. Why?”
Duke exchanged a quick but loaded look with Andi.
The woman in that picture wasn’t the Pam who’d approached them.
Same hair color maybe. Same height.
But the face was different. Younger. Softer. And unmistakably not the exhausted, frantic woman who’d pleaded for their help at the signing table.
The room subtly tilted.
“Emily,” Andi said, “can I see that photo again?”
Emily handed her the phone.
Duke leaned in and studied the image.
The realization settled heavy and cold in his gut.
Whoever had come to them about this case hadn’t been Gina’s sister.
That meant the woman—Fake Pam—had lied to them from the very beginning.
Duke leaned back slowly, every instinct screaming awake.
This case just became a lot more twisted.