Liz waited in the lobby for more than an hour, hoping it wasn’t too late to catch Warwick that evening. As she did, she skimmed through hundreds of pages of search results, hoping the next link would lead her to the “Charles Warwick” she knew. Most linked to a man who had died in the eighteen-hundreds. None matched the man she had met on two separate occasions now.
In the end, her Internet sleuthing proved just as fruitless as her hotel stakeout. Warwick didn’t show, and she learned nothing new to aid in her investigation. Finally, Liz gave up and drove home in defeat.
She thought back to the way the wind had slammed her door, how she’d envisioned the hand of God interceding in her mission. But He had shut the door for her, not opened it. What if it was a sign that she needed to let this go before someone ended up seriously hurt?
She wished she could talk about it with somebody, but both Dorian and her father refused to tell her more, and her friends would only worry or try to stop her in her quest, especially as far as Warwick was concerned.
No, he was the only one who could help her now. She had to take the chance, accept the risk.
The next morning she stopped by the hotel again, but the concierge told her Mr. Warwick had checked out late last night.
Gone. No more trails to follow. No truths left to find.
Did this mean he had given up on reaching her?
Her heart fell as she contemplated this strange loss, equal parts good and bad.
Liz simply didn’t know what to believe anymore, didn’t know if she’d ever be able to turn back despite reaching the end of the road.
She texted Lauren to let her know she and the dogs would be by earlier than expected. At least the visit with her friend would help distract her reeling mind.
On the road to Puffin Ridge, she placed a call to Dorian on her Bluetooth, but it rang several times before finally clicking over to voicemail. Had he left, too?
When the robotic voice prompted her to leave a message at the tone, she did, hoping it would give her some measure of closure.
“Dorian Whitley,” she said with an exhausted laugh. “You told me not to hate you, but guess what? I do. I hate you with every fiber of my being, Dorian. You brought chaos and lies into my life. You told me to talk to my father if I wanted to know the truth. But surprise, surprise, he wouldn’t say a thing. I tried to talk to Warwick, and he’s gone without a trace.”
The GPS interrupted her with instruction to “Take exit on right to Glenn Highway, then keep straight for eighty miles to Puffin Ridge.” Liz pressed hard until the device turned off. She already knew the way and didn’t need that robotic voice irritating her.
She huffed and quickly finished her message to Dorian. “Maybe you’re gone, too. I don’t know. But what I do know is I hate you for ruining my life, then not even having the decency to pick up the phone.”
She hung up before she could tear into him more and hit the steering wheel in frustration. The car swerved from the motion, forcing her to focus on her driving once again.
Liz shook. She was so, so angry, but was it really because of Dorian? He seemed the easiest target since he’d been the one to first introduce her to this mystery, since he wasn’t answering his phone now when she desperately needed someone to tell her what was going on.
She tried listening to the radio as she drove along the lonely stretch of highway to Puffin Ridge, but every lyric just set her further on edge. It all seemed to taunt her, to remind her that she’d never know the truth about her own life, that she’d reached a dead end on the journey into her past.
Just as Liz had pulled into Lauren and Shane’s driveway, her phone rang through the speakers. Her father calling to apologize? Dorian? Either would have been welcome at this point.
But, no, of course, it couldn’t be that simple.
“Hey, girl,” Sofia said casually, but her voice shook with uncertainty. “Where are you?”
“Puffin Ridge. Do you need me to come cover a shift?” The front door of the cabin opened, and Lauren waved from the doorway. Naturally, all three dogs in the backseat of her car went crazy with joyous barking.
“No, no. Don’t do that.” Sofia said something more, but her voice cut out.
“Sofia? I can hardly hear you over the dogs. What’s going on?” Liz waved Lauren over and pointed toward the back seat. Luckily, her friend knew just what she was trying to say, and let the dogs out to play in the yard.
“Liz? Are you still there?” The rustling of fabrics hinted that Sofia had gone to hide in the back of the store where they kept overstock garments.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. The dogs were—”
“It’s fine. Listen,” Sofia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “There was some creepy dude here looking for you. He waited for almost an hour before I threatened to call the cops and made him go away. I think he’s somewhere nearby still.”
Liz’s heart sped. She should have waited longer, shouldn’t have left Anchorage so easily. She asked the question even though she already knew the answer somewhere deep within. “Was it the same creepy guy as last week? Dorian?”
“The cute one? No. This dude was old—gray hair in his beard and all that. I managed to sneak a picture. Just a sec, I’ll send it to you.”
A moment later Liz’s phone buzzed with a message and sure enough, the image of Mr. Warwick stared back at her. She didn’t understand. Hadn’t he left? Why was he still looking for her?
“Did you get his number?” Liz asked, equal parts hope and dread filling her chest.
“What? No! Liz, trust me, this guy was not here for altruistic reasons. You know it takes a lot to weird me out. Heck, I’m the queen of weird, but this guy scared the bejeezus out of me. I wanted you to know so you could be on the lookout, not so you could return his visit.”
Sofia clearly meant the words, but she also knew so little of what was really going on. She didn’t know how desperately Liz needed to talk to somebody—anybody—who could give her answers.
A sigh escaped before she could suck it back. “Thanks for sending the picture. I’ve got to go.”
This set her boss further on edge. “Liz? Stay away from him, okay? I don’t often play the employer card, but seriously, boss’s orders.”
She simply didn’t have enough energy left to fight off her friends. “Okay,” Liz answered, then hung up the phone.
Everyone in her life had lied to her, so what would one more lie hurt?