Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (25 page)

Amara parked in a busy lot and walked around like one of the visitors. She scanned the area for yellow or spiky hair, not seeing those two. It didn't mean they weren't watching, but she wasn't going to worry about that.

She bumped into a man with two excited-looking kids. One of them held a chocolate pumpkin from her shop.

"I'm so sorry," Amara said, wide-eyed. "I didn't see you there."

"It's okay," the guy said. "I was distracted by these two." He grabbed the hand of the younger child, appearing to be preschool aged.

"Can I borrow your phone?" Amara asked. "I'm sorry to ask, but I can't find my friends and I'm terribly lost."

"Of course." He dug into his jacket and pulled out a yo-yo. He laughed. "That's not it. Let me try again." He pulled out a smart phone and slid his finger around the screen. "Here you go."

"Thank you so much." Amara sent Rafael a text.

This is Amara. I'm so sorry for not responding to your texts. I can't explain anything now. Just know that I'll contact you when it's safe.
She paused, trying to figure out how to fit it all into one text.
Don't reply to this phone. I'll definitely be in the show. I wouldn't miss it. I love you.

Amara let her thumb hover over the send button. She needed to tell him how she felt. Heart pounding, she pressed send and then erased the text from the stranger's phone. She sent up a quick prayer, hoping she wasn't putting anyone in danger by texting Rafael.

She handed it back to him. "Thanks so much. You have no idea how much help you've been."

He smiled. "My pleasure. Hope you find your friends."

"I will. Thanks!" Amara bound off in the other direction, feeling lighter and more awake. At least she'd been able to tell Rafael what was going on—kind of. She wasn't ignoring him, anyway. And she'd told him she loved him. It sucked to say it over a text instead of in person, but given the circumstances, it was what needed to be done.

Now to tell the police that she and her boyfriend had been threatened.

Twenty Eight

"I'll be back, guys," Rafael called to his brothers as he headed out the door. A cold breeze blew by, giving him the shivers. He tightened the scarf around his neck and lowered the hat. "At least it's not snowing," he mumbled.

Taking the long way around to his car, he passed the candy shop. Alex stood at the register with some customers and a couple teens wearing green aprons appeared to be stocking some shelves. No Amara. His heart sank, but what did he expect? That she'd be by the window waving at him?

Frowning, he stuck his hands into the silky pockets of his leather jacket. He bumped his phone. Just to torture himself, he pulled it out and checked for any missed texts or calls.

It slid from his hands when he saw the light flashing. He caught it with his other hand and checked his notifications. A missed text from an unknown number. He chastised himself for getting his hopes up.

Expecting to see a message regarding his business, he checked the text. His eyes widened when he saw it was from Amara. Why was she using a different number? He had to read the message several times before it registered. He stared at the last three words—I love you.

It took a minute for it to register, and then relief swept through him. He hadn't scared her away! And she would join him for the fashion show. That meant he could still do the fashion show with her—and ask her to marry him.

His joy was quickly replaced with dread. Why couldn't she use her own phone? And why had she waited until… he checked the time she sent the message… two hours ago to get a hold of him? Something had to be wrong. She was just trying not to worry him. And what did she mean about when it was safe?

Rafael opened his browser app and searched the number she'd texted from. It belonged to the CEO of a small firm just outside of Seattle. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Amara wasn't in Washington, was she?

She certainly had enough time to get there between now and the last time they saw each other. But would she? And why? If he couldn't return that text, he would just text her phone. She'd obviously been getting his texts. Perhaps she could receive them but not send them. Maybe the number was a borrowed one. Or what if she'd been abducted and she snagged the attacker's phone for a minute?

His heart pounded in his ear. No. No, she hadn't said anything about having gone anywhere. What had she said again, exactly? He re-read the text. She'd return his call when it was
safe?
He squeezed the device. What if she
had
been kidnapped? She could have said she'd be in the show just to calm his nerves. Or she was being optimistic.

Rafael went over to their old texting conversation. He sent another one—in a long line of ignored messages.

Are you okay? What do you mean you'll contact me when it's safe? Please let me know what's going on. I love you, too.

There was so much more he wanted to say, but his brain was running far faster than his fingers and worry was quickly overtaking him. He needed to figure out what was going on, and the faster the better.

The question was what to do. He didn't even know where she was, and chances were that she wasn't going to respond to his text. He could go into the candy store and ask Alex if he knew what was going on. But given where Rafael's mind had gone—to Amara in the hands of a killer—maybe it was best that he didn't worry her twin.

On the other hand, what if he was right? If she was in danger, she needed as much help as she could get, and who better than those who loved her most?

Rafael took a deep breath and put his phone back in his jacket pocket. He glanced back into his shop. His brothers were fine. Cruz laughed as he painted while Zachary typed away at his laptop, shaking his head—probably at whatever had Cruz cracking up.

He headed for the candy store, forcing himself to walk at a normal pace. He wanted to run in and shout at Alex, but wouldn't do any good. It would be far more effective to remain as calm and collected as possible.

As he opened the door, Alex greeted him. "Oh, hey, Rafael. How's everything?"

"Can I talk to you? Privately."

Alex's smile disappeared. "Is something the matter?"

"I hope not."

"You want to step outside?"

Rafael nodded and Alex grabbed a coat from behind the counter. They stepped outside.

"What's going on?" asked Alex. "You look troubled."

"I hope I'm overreacting, but I'm worried about Amara. Have you heard from her?"

Alex's eyes widened. "She called me this morning, saying she wasn't feeling well. You think it's more than that?"

Rafael considered his wording. "Maybe."

"Why?"

Rafael pulled out his phone and found her text. "Read this."

Alex took the phone and his eyes grew increasingly wide as he read it. He handed it back to Rafael. "You really think that's from her?"

"I assume so."

Alex swore. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and slid his finger around the screen. He texted something and then glanced at Rafael. "Let's see if she responds to me."

Rafael moved over so he could see Alex's screen and they both waited for a response.

Nothing.

"What should we do now?" Rafael asked.

"I'm going to her place. I've got a key, so if she doesn't answer, I'm going in."

"I'll meet you there."

Rafael's phone rang. It was a blocked number. His pulse raced. Was it her? Someone who held her against her will? He pressed accept. "Who's this?"

"Rafael Hunter?" came a gruff male voice from the other end of the line.

"Who's asking?" Rafael demanded.

"Officer Farris at the Kittle Falls police station."

Blood drained from Rafael's head and he leaned against the wall. "What's going on?"

Alex stared at him, his expression begging for information.

"We need you to come to the station, sir."

Rafael ran his hand through his hair. "Am I… is someone in trouble?"

"Sir, we just have some questions for you. Please come to the station immediately."

"I'll be right over." Rafael's stomach churned. He ended the call, breathing quickly.

"What's going on?" Alex demanded.

"I have to go down to the station."

"As in the
police
station?" Alex asked, his eyes widening.

"They say they have questions for me. I don't know what's going on."

Alex pulled on his hair. "I hope it has nothing to with Amara."

"Me, too. Look, you go to her house, and I'll see what the cops want. Maybe they just want to ask me about my accident or something. We'll both text each other as soon as we know anything."

Frowning, Alex nodded. Then he arched a brow. "Hey, isn't your cousin a lawyer?"

"Logan?" Rafael asked. "Yeah. In Oregon."

"Call him on your way. I don't know what's going on, but you'll want representation."

Rafael threw his head back. What had his life become? "You're right. And maybe he can give us some ideas as to what we should do about Amara."

"And ask the police, too," Alex said. He shook his head. "Amara better be in her bed, sleeping through all this. If she lied to me… Doesn't she know she can come to me if she's in trouble?"

"We'd better go," Rafael said. "If she's there, text me."

"And you, too, if you find out anything."

Rafael nodded, and then they parted ways. His mind raced, but Alex was right. He needed to call his cousin. Rafael scrolled through his contacts until he found Logan.

The phone rang four times before he answered. "Raf?"

"Do you have a minute?" Rafael asked, skipping pleasantries.

"For you? Of course. What's going on?"

Rafael explained the situation as best he could as he got into the car. He wasn't sure what was important and what wasn't, so he told Logan everything from Amara's strange text to all the vandalism and his collision.

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" Logan asked. "Like, as soon as you suspected someone had it out for your business?"

Rafael's mouth dropped open. He had no answer. "Can you help me or not?" He started the car and cranked the heat.

"I'll do whatever I can. I'm actually not too far away. Just see what the cops want, but don't answer any questions until I get there. Should be about forty minutes."

"You're that close?" Rafael asked, surprised.

"It's your lucky day."

"I sure hope so."

"Call me if you need anything," Logan said. "I'm leaving now."

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

"Remember, don't answer any of their questions until I'm present. Or at least on speaker phone."

"What if they ask questions about Amara?" Rafael asked. "I need to tell them what I can, right? We need to find her. What if she's all the way in Seattle with some creep? I'll kill him."

"Calm down. There could be any number of reasons she used a phone number from Washington. And whatever you do, don't say you're going to kill anyone while you're in front of the police."

"I'm not stupid," Rafael snapped. "Sorry. Can I answer their questions about Amara?"

"They shouldn't ask anything once you say you're waiting for your attorney. If they do, call me. Immediately."

"But we need to find Amara," Rafael exclaimed.

Logan sighed into the phone. "If you want to answer questions, call me. Okay? Just try to find out what's going on. Throw out the attorney card and make them wait. Got it? You know how to reach me."

Rafael took a deep breath. "Okay. Thanks, Logan." He ended the call and clenched the steering wheel. "Help is coming, Amara."

Twenty Nine

Amara's heart raced as she stared at the "mirror" from across the room. It really wasn't a mirror at all—it was two-way glass, and who knew if anyone was watching her? She wasn't a criminal, but for the moment, she felt like one.

Sighing, she looked away and tapped her fingers on the shiny table. She pushed the styrofoam cup farther away. Her nerves were shot, and all it would take was one wrong move and the water would be all over the table, and maybe even her.

She'd given the officers as much information about Kristine and Tony as she could remember. They'd asked so many questions it made her head spin. Amara had questioned what she really remembered because it seemed like they didn't even believe her.

That had to be why she remained in the tiny room with the long table and two-way window. Technically, they'd asked her to stay, but it sounded more like an order. In fact, everything Officer Farris said sound harsher than it should have. His questions had all been vaguely disguised accusations.

The doorknob jiggled and Amara jumped. She probably looked guilty as sin. For what, though? She'd done nothing wrong. The door opened and Farris came back in. His eyebrows came together, though that wasn't hard. He almost had a unibrow.