3. Hazel

Chapter 3

Hazel

W alking down the hallway of my old high school felt strange for many reasons. Firstly, I hadn't been back there in years and secondly, it was filled with Ian Carter fans.

School was out for the holidays, so the school gates were open to all Ian’s fans, allowing them to walk the same halls he’d walked all those years ago. I watched in awed disgust as they crowded around his old locker, a few of them touching it and talking about how they wouldn’t wash their hands again.

I really hoped they were joking.

Similar ghastly sights were all over the school. The fans were either seated in Ian’s former class or walking on the field where he had played his first games. I rolled my eyes as I walked past another group.

I wondered if this was what Emily did when she came here. Did she also walk down these halls while dreaming of Ian? Maybe this was where she came to after leaving the hotel room she shared with Olivia.

“Do you know which hockey stick belonged to Ian?” Kira asked as she stopped in front of me, carrying almost a dozen hockey sticks. They looked heavy, but she didn’t seem to care. All that mattered to her was finding Ian’s hockey stick.

I knew bringing her along was a bad idea, but she begged and I caved. I was well aware that Kira was here for Ian’s sake and not for Emily. A woman was missing, but she was still so far up Ian’s ass that she couldn’t see that.

“Why would she know that?” a man standing nearby asked with furrowed brows.

I shook my head at Kira, signaling for her not to speak, but she went ahead anyway.

“She went to school here. She’s also best friends with Ian’s sister.”

“Is that true?”

“I wouldn’t say best friends,” I said. I felt guilty about denying Jade, but I was sure she’d understand. In a minefield of Ian Carter fans, it was better they didn’t know you actually knew the guy. “Jade and I met a few times when we went to school here.”

“No, it’s more than that. They —

I placed a hand over Kira’s mouth to silence her. Being this close to her meant the curved end of one of the hockey sticks was poking me in the chest, but I didn’t care. If everyone here found out I was actually close to Ian’s sister, I would never be able to leave.

“Put those hockey sticks back. We’re leaving.” I walked out of the school and waited for Kira by the car. When she came out, I drove us to the local diner, another place Emily and Olivia had visited before her disappearance.

Thankfully, the place was mostly empty, which meant I could ask the waiters about Emily. I pulled out my phone and swiped to the picture Olivia had sent to me. Emily’s blonde hair, blue eyes, and wide smile stared back at me. I turned the phone to the waiter.

“Have you seen this woman?”

The waiter leaned forward and squinted his eyes. “Yes, I have.”

“Really?”

“She was here a few days ago with her brunette friend.”

My face dropped and a wave of disappointment washed through me. I’d been hoping I would at least be able to find Emily’s last location before I released the article about her disappearance. I’d already written it, but I still needed to get Bradford’s approval before I could send it to print.

“Thank you,” I said to the waiter as he walked away.

My last stop of the day was the hotel, which was the last place Olivia had seen Emily. The two women came into town a few days ago. They spent most of their time together, exploring sites Ian frequented. They only separated for a few hours because Olivia wanted to go shopping.

She invited her friend to come with her, but Emily declined because she wanted to get some rest. Olivia left her friend in the hotel room, but when she came back, she was gone.

The whole story was very confusing. And it became even more confusing when I got to the hotel. They didn’t tell me much, but they stated that they never saw Emily leave.

“Is there any way I can get into the room?” I asked.

The man at the front desk looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Are you a police officer?”

“No, but I—

“Then no, sorry.” He turned back to his computer, hitting the keys loudly as he typed and effectively dismissing me.

I sighed and walked away. I could tell he had no plans to speak to me again. I was too busy thinking about what he said earlier to be offended. If Emily never left but she also wasn’t in the hotel, then what did that mean?

That question stayed with me as I returned to the office. I headed straight to Bradford. The whole situation still confused me, but one thing was clear: Emily’s life was in danger. I needed to get my article published immediately.

Someone had to have seen her at some point, and I added a phone number at the end of the article so they could call in if they saw anything.

Bradford smiled when I walked into his office. “Hazel. You haven't been in the office today. Everything all right?”

I told him about the missing woman and my efforts to retrace the steps she’d taken before she went missing. I’d already written the article, but I needed his permission since we’ve never done anything like this before.

“I know it’s not what we usually do, but she needs our help. At least if the article is out there, then more people will know she’s missing and she’ll be found sooner.”

My boss remained silent for a long moment. He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair before sighing. He knew very well that I wouldn’t stop until he gave me permission. We’d been down a similar road in the past, so he knew that once I set my mind to something, I was going to achieve it no matter what.

“Do it.”

I sent the article to print immediately after I left his office. It made me feel good to know that my work was actually going to help someone this time. With any luck, we just might find Emily alive.

I had to hang onto the hope that she was alive, even though a part of me was already starting to fear the worst. I grabbed my jacket and made my way out of the office.

I’d promised my parents that I would stop by the house after work. I moved out only a few months ago, so they weren't fully used to not having me around. It’s always been just the three of us. As an only child, my parents were my best friends for a long time.

Things changed when I met Jade. With time, she became a part of my family, and both my parents loved her.

Fresh flowers bloomed under the hot afternoon sun, making the garden of my parents’ home look even more beautiful. My mom had devoted herself to making sure it always looked nice. She loved flowers, and that was obvious to anyone who came to our house. From the roses in the garden, the white lilies that decorated the front porch, and the orchids inside the house.

My mom always told me that each flower had a meaning and there was a reason she placed them. The roses in the garden symbolized the love she and my father shared and the love she had for me. She wanted it to be the first thing people saw, which was why she planted them in the garden.

“The lilies represent purity and renewal,” she’d said to me. “When you walk through the front porch after a long day, they help wash away any negative energy that might have followed you home. The orchids have different meanings depending on their color. I tried to get as many colors as possible because each of them adds something special to this house, just as you will add something special to the world. I’m certain that you will do great things, my dear.”

I smiled wistfully as I remembered that day. My mom genuinely believed I was going to do something truly great with my life. There were times I felt like my career as a journalist was disappointing to her. And maybe that was what spurred my need to do more.

I wanted to be a journalist who actually made a change. Someone who contributed to making people’s lives better. That was how I could live up to my mother's expectations.

“Hazel, when did you get here?” my dad asked as he walked up to me.

I’d been standing in the foyer staring at the orchids. “Not too long ago.”

“Well, come in. Your mother and I were in the living room. You won't believe who stopped by.”

“Who stopped—

The question died on my tongue when we walked into the living room and I came face to face with Ian Carter. I hadn't seen him in over six months.

Light brown hair long enough to fall onto his face, but not too long that it covered his features. Green eyes that bore into me, making me shift in place beside my father. Chiseled jawline, over six feet tall, broad shoulders, and a lean build.

He was attractive. Objectively speaking, of course.

I was capable of acknowledging his attractiveness while being simultaneously annoyed by his presence.

What was he doing in my house? When did he even get back into town?

Ian stood up and offered me a stiff smile. “Hazel.”

“Oh hi, sweetie. I didn’t hear you come in,” my mom said. She stood up and wrapped her arms around me. “Ian dropped by to say hello. He got in yesterday and he said he just had to greet us. Isn't he wonderful?”

Like everyone else in Cloverhill, my parents loved Ian. They’d watched him grow up and always praised him for maintaining his humility I scoffed at the thought. There wasn’t a world where Ian Carter could be referred to as humble. He was the farthest thing from it.

I smiled at my mom, choosing not to answer her question. Then I turned to Ian again. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence settled between us. Avoiding each other had become our way of life, so neither of us knew what to say or do.

Ian cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ll get going now. Mr. And Mrs. Jones, thank you so much for having me. It’s been great talking to you, and I’ll be sure to stop by again before I leave town.” He nodded at me. “Good seeing you, Hazel.”

I knew he didn’t mean that, but neither of us wanted my parents to know about the bad blood between us. “You too.”

Ian left, and I felt instantly better. It was like he’d taken the dark cloud with him. I hadn't even known there was a dark cloud until I walked into the house and saw him. A part of me wondered if I should have mentioned Emily to him.

After all, she was his fan, and she’d come into town because of him. Plus, his name was mentioned a few times in the article I wrote. I decided not to tell Ian, but he would find out about it tomorrow when the paper hits the street.

I couldn’t help thinking about how he would react when he found out. Would he be angry that I mentioned his name?

I guessed I’d find out soon.