Page 18 of The Saint

“Starting with the description of the man that came into the Callaghans’ house. Short? Tall? Black? White?”

“White. Tall.” She’d already given them that information.

“If you met with a sketch artist, could you describe the man enough to get a visual representation?”

“I don’t know.” The details were clear. She remembered the close-cut hair, the sharp shoulders, and a long stride, but she didn’t know how to explain that to an artist. Amelia chewed her lip again. They didn’t like her answer, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the conversation was a test, one she didn’t understand and couldn’t have prepared for. “Maybe. Probably.”

“That’s not what I expected you to say.” Bennett’s deep disappointment permeated his expression. He glanced at Fitzgerald. “Did you?”

“It wasn’t as if I saw his eye color. I was hiding from him.”

“All right.” Fitzgerald nodded at her reasoning and leaned back, relaxing against her couch like he and Bennett might be there a while. “Have you heard from your sister? Seen her?”

Her head cocked to one side. “What? No.”

“Are you sure?” Bennett pressed.

“Am I sure?” She drew back. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Did Hailey or Jonathan tell you anything and ask you to keep it quiet? Maybe they shared information but said not to share?”

“Other than the phone number and code words, they wouldn’t tell me anything at all.”

“Nothing else?”

She tried to piece together the night, but everything was very foggy. Her memories weren’t even in order, like she could see the trauma in unorganized snapshots. “I just wanted to call 911, but they said no.”

Bennett pursed his mouth. “Anything else you want to share with us before we head back to the office and keep digging?”

Shouldn’t theygo somewhereandlookfor Hailey?

“Anything at all,” Fitzgerald prompted.

They were putting too much pressure on her. Amelia revisited her two conversations with Camden. That didn’t feel relevant, and besides, they had to know about their first phone call. The second one, she hoped they didn’t. She’d redialed like a manic stalker until she reconnected with him. That was embarrassing, but she had to speak with the only person who’d actually helped in this whole mess. Camden was separate from what Fitzgerald and Bennett needed and sort of weirdly personal, even if he’d hadn’t given her any information.

“All right, then,” Bennett said, as though he didn’t entirely believe her. “Thank you for your time.”

God.That really pissed her off. She leaned forward. “Don’t you think I would have mentioned if I’d seen Hailey?”

“Perhaps.”

Perhaps?“I’ve beentryingto get information out of anyone I could havefor days. If Hailey had stopped by. If she’d called, if she magically stopped by, I would have said something.”

“We’re just doing our job,” Fitzgerald offered.

“Iaskedyouif you’d found her. Why would I ask that if I’d talked to her?”

They stood and promised to follow up, as if they hadn’t heard Amelia snap at them.

Their perfunctory farewells made her want to scream as she let them out of the house. She closed the door with more gusto than was necessary and watched out the window to ensure they drove away. Only once she was sure they were gone did she return to the couch.

Her incredulity doubled as she replayed the conversation. They seemed to think she knew where Hailey was. Did she look like a woman who knew anything right now? She didn’t need a mirror to see her rat’s nest of hair that had been tied in a bun or her perpetually tear-swollen eyes.

Pain blossomed in her chest. Amelia missed Hailey so much that she couldn’t breathe. Her gaze dropped to her arm, and she pulled the sweatshirt cuff up until she could see the faint numbers still legible on there. Her sister’s handwriting was fading. It reminded her of the worst night of her life. Yet it was the last thing she had from Hailey.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The long day had turned into a longer night. Sunlight disappeared earlier and earlier. The beautiful bright fall leaves had turned from their vivid yellows and reds to dreary, drab browns, as if the universe was in mourning. The sun hid. The leaves started to drop. Everywhere Amelia looked, life was moving on with a painful heaviness.

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