“We have conflicting information. I still don’t know exactly what’s going on. I’m hoping you can help me connect some dots.” He glanced at his notes. “Marc is the man you were living with?”
“Yes. We bought the house together. An investment. We’d been on vacation, and he got called back early. Some problem atthe office. Why doesn’t anyone seem the least bit worried about him?”
“Your neighbor said that you’d been in an accident.”
“No. That woman is confused. I’m perfectly fine. Well, I was when I got home, before I realized everything I owned was missing. Maybe Marc was telling her that he’d been in an accident. That might explain why Marc isn’t answering his phone.” She sat up. “You’ve got to find him. Something has happened to Marc. Can you call the hospitals? Households of stuff don’t disappear. What if he caught them in the act, and they got rid of the witness?”
The detective cocked his head.
Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but something has happened.
“Slow down.” His voice was calm and comforting, even if she was a bit annoyed by the barrage of questions. “Tell me what you know. I’m here to help.”
There was something in his tone that made her believe him. She sucked in a breath and retold the entire story, from how Marc left the resort early until she got home and found it empty.
He nodded, continuing to write in his notebook and circling something.
Frustration had Natalie on edge. “I still don’t understand why Mrs. Brooks would say that Marc told her I had been in an accident or that the lease was up. We bought that house. Cash outright. No mortgage. No lease.”
He lifted an eyebrow, which made her feel more like this was some kind of test she had to pass or fail.
“Natalie?” Sheila bolted through the doorway. “I came straight over when I got the call. What is going on?”
Natalie snapped her attention to the doorway. “Sheila!” Natalie gobbled back the emotion she’d been trying to control, relief rolling over her as her best friend ran to her side. “I don’t know what the heck is going on. Everything is gone.”
“Everything what?” Sheila looked over at the detective, then thrust her hand in his direction. “I’m Sheila Aldridge. I’m Natalie’s best friend. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Detective Randy Fellowes.”
“Detective?Okay, y’all need to bring me up to speed here. You’re starting to freak me out a little. Are you okay, Nat?”
“Physically, I’m fine,” Natalie said.
“Then why are you in the hospital?”
“I think I got overwhelmed, and from what the nurse said I guess it was a combination of dehydration, the flight from Mexico, and all the chaos when I got home and my house was empty and I can’t get in touch with Marc. Something’s wrong, which is why he’s here.” She thumbed toward the detective.
The detective nodded in Sheila’s direction. “Ms. Aldridge, have you heard from Marc Swindell in the past few days?”
“No. I haven’t.” She glanced over at Natalie. “Not that I would. I’m Natalie’s friend, not so much his. I mean, we’re friendly, but that’s it. Natalie, did you say your house isempty?”
“Completely. Not even a hanger. Everything I own.” Natalie twisted the sheet in her hand.
The detective locked his gaze on Sheila. “And you’ve been to the house on Landover Lane?”
“Yes.” Sheila leaned back. “Several times.”
“Mr. Swindell was at the house?”
“Yes. That’s an odd question,” Sheila said. “I talked to her while she was with Marc in Cancún too.”
“Nothing seemed off?”
Sheila grabbed Natalie’s hand. “Things seemed like they were going great between them. They were, weren’t they?”
Natalie nodded, and just above a whisper said, “It was the trip of a lifetime.”
Chapter Four
