Chapter 50

Holly hasn’t eaten all day, but whatever appetite she brought with her to the restaurant vanishes the moment she spots Aaron sitting at their usual table on the far side of the deck. She can tell from his light-blue blazer, his favorite jacket, that Aaron must have assumed she meant tonight to be a date night. She didn’t. Holly only chose this spot because it’s a safe and public venue.

Aaron stands up and pulls back her chair as she approaches. She forces an over-the-shoulder smile as she allows him to slide the chair back under her.

“This is an unexpected treat,” he says as he sits down beside her.

“It’s a nice night,” she says, but the starry sky and the lit boats and yachts dotting the water hardly even register with her. She wonders if she is going to be able to fake her way through enough small talk to get him off his guard.

“How do you feel about white?” Aaron says, offering her the wine list.

She holds up a palm. “I trust you.” But nothing could be further from the truth.

“I feel empowered,” he says with a chuckle, as he puts on his reading glasses and consults the list. “I know just the one.”

With glasses on and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, Aaron is still handsome in the professorial way that had originally drawn her to him. But all she feels now is queasiness in his company.

As if sensing her underlying emotion, Aaron lowers the list to the table and stares at her apologetically. “I am sorry, Holl. I really am.”

“Oh? What for?”

“Hurting you.”

It takes all her restraint to keep her tone in check. “When did you hurt me, Aaron?”

“Last time you came over. I was awful. After everything you’d been through with Liisa. Not to mention the others in the group. What you needed was a sympathetic ear, not a condescending lecture from a pompous ass like me. I was tired. And Graham has this crazy idea that… It doesn’t matter.” He shows her a contrite smile. “Any chance you’d be willing to give me a do-over?”

Aaron sounds so sincere that any other time Holly might have been moved to forgiveness. Not tonight. “Remind me, Aaron. When was the last time you worked with Liisa?”

“When she was my student. Must’ve been fifteen years ago. Maybe twenty.”

“And you haven’t seen her since?”

He shrugs. “Not that I can recall, no.”

“Not even a phone call?”

“No, no phone calls.” His smile fades, replaced by a look of suspicion. “What am I missing here?”

“It’s probably nothing.” Holly buries her face in her menu.

He gently pushes it down. “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Liisa is missing,” she says matter-of-factly.

He cocks his head. “As in missing her appointments?”

“She has been listed by Newport Police as a missing person.” She meets his bewildered stare. “And because of that, the police got access to her phone records.”

Aaron nods. “Were they able to track her through GPS or whatever?”

“Her last known location was in Monterey. Where she grew up. But her phone has gone dark. And they don’t know where she is now.”

“And you think this is somehow related to the deaths in the group?”

She ignores the question. “The police also got access to her calling history.”

He leans forward, expectantly. “And?”

“Coincidentally—or not—one of the last phone calls she placed was to your office.”

Aaron chuckles. “Of course. Why wouldn’t she call me?”

She views him stone-faced. “Liisa called your office the day she disappeared.”

His eyes go wide and his nostrils flare. “She absolutely did not!”

Holly folds her arms across her chest. “It was there in black-and-white. Liisa also placed several calls to unlisted numbers. I assume some of those were to your cell phone. A burner phone, maybe?”

“Nonsense!” He taps the table aggressively with his finger. “I haven’t spoken to Liisa Koskinen in fifteen years.”

“Then how do you explain it?”

“When did this supposed call happen?”

“The day before yesterday. In the early afternoon.”

“Tuesday! My hospital teaching day!” he trumpets. “My assistant, Amy, isn’t even in the office on Tuesdays. And how long did the call last?”

“Less than a minute,” she concedes.

“Because it would have gone straight to voicemail. And I promise you, if Liisa did call, she sure as hell didn’t leave a message. Amy would’ve told me.”

“Why would Liisa even try to call you?”

“How should I know? I have no idea what any of this has to do with me.”

Neither Aaron’s voice nor his body language suggests he’s hiding anything. His outrage comes across as genuine. But then again, she reminds herself, as a seasoned therapist, he would know how to feign sincerity better than most.

“A quick Google search would’ve told Liisa I was your husband,” he continues. “It was in all the articles. Maybe, in desperation, she thought she could reach you through me?”

“Reach me for what, Aaron? Liisa and I had just spoken that morning.”

“But you told me she stormed out. Distraught. Maybe after she calmed down—”

“What? She thought the best way to reach me was through my husband, whom she hadn’t spoken to in fifteen-plus years?”

“I can’t explain it, Holly. I didn’t even know about this call until now.” He squeezes the bridge of his nose. “But I suppose it explains why that detective was looking for me earlier.”

“Detective Rivers?”

“I think so, yes.”

“When was this?”

“Around five-ish. I got a message from Amy. I just assumed it had to be about Graham.” Aaron laughs bitterly. “I was going to call him back in the morning.”

Of course, Aaron would assume the detective was calling about Graham, but Holly doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t want it to ruin tonight, Holl.”

She doesn’t know what to think. But she isn’t ready to take him at his word, either. He has always had that effect on her—the ability to sow doubt when she thought her mind was already made up. She rises from the table. “I need a little time and space to think.”

He doesn’t get up. “Space,” he mutters. “You always use that word when you’re running away from me. From us.”

Holly is unmoved. “Do you have any idea how sketchy this all sounds? My client—who might be abducted, on the run, or even dead—calls my husband’s office only hours before she disappears?”

“Did it occur to you that maybe that’s exactly what Liisa wanted? To make it look like I’m somehow involved.”

“If so, she did a damn good job.”

He looks up at her with pained eyes. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

“I…” Holly spins away and hurries out of the restaurant. She doesn’t stop until she reaches the traffic light on the corner. She glances over her shoulder, but Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

As she walks along the side street to her parking spot, she reviews their conversation in her head. She wants to believe Aaron, but she can’t risk doing so blindly. Not with such a huge unexplained coincidence like Liisa’s call to his office hanging over them.

As Holly reaches her car, she hears a noise and turns toward it. She can’t see much in the weak glow of the streetlights, but she hears what sounds like the rapid patter of footfalls. She thrusts a hand in her bag and fumbles to find the small can of pepper spray that she always carries. But the footsteps fade away.

Holly hurls herself into her car and slams the door shut, locking it immediately. Her hands shake as she yanks the car in gear and jerks it away from the curb.

Am I being paranoid?

She realizes there could be multiple harmless explanations for what she just heard. But she can’t help thinking of the glasses case she found lying outside her car door. And she remembers how Detective Rivers said that whoever broke into her car would have either used a sophisticated tracking device or one of Holly’s own keys.

Her hands freeze on the wheel.

I left my backup key at Aaron’s when I moved out.