8. Ian

Chapter 8

Ian

I pulled myself out of bed at five-thirty in the morning. I didn’t have anywhere I needed to be, but I was used to getting up early to exercise so that’s what I did. I spent the next hour and a half doing my usual morning routine.

When I was done, I hopped into the shower to wash away the sweat. With that out of the way, I sat at the counter in the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. The day was starting off peacefully, and I was grateful for that. After the day I’d had yesterday, I needed a good morning so I could feel refreshed.

I did my best not to think of everything that happened yesterday, but memories of Hazel flooded my mind despite my efforts. I made sure to push her out of my mind whenever I thought about her. With that resolve built, I dropped my cup in the dishwasher and headed back to my room.

I straightened my sheets, a habit my mother had ingrained in me since I was a child. I left the house that day with a smile on my face. If my morning had started so well, then the rest of my day couldn’t be that bad right?

Unfortunately, I was very wrong.

In the space of twenty-four hours, Hazel’s article had managed to reach even more people. Emily’s disappearance and my apparent involvement were all anyone could talk about.

I stopped by the grocery store to get a few things. I was standing in the frozen food section when someone walked up to me and said, “So what are you doing about the situation?”

“The situation?” It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Emily. I stared at him long after that revelation, not sure how I should answer that question.

Was I supposed to do something about the situation? Wasn’t finding missing people a job for the police?

Those were the questions on my mind, but I didn’t share them because I knew they wouldn’t be received well.

“The situation is quite sad,” I said instead before grabbing a pack of frozen chicken and walking away.

He wasn’t the only one who approached me to ask questions about Emily. Several people bombarded me with questions. Everywhere I went, they asked what I was doing to help find Emily.

Fed up finally, I cleared my throat. “I’m working closely with Hazel Jones to solve this mystery.”

“You are?” More questions bombarded me.

It was a little white lie, right? It wasn’t like they’d know I wasn’t telling the truth.

“No further questions, please,” I said, holding up my hand as if I had some kind of authority. In reality, I was just a hockey player. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”

Finally, people started to scatter, and my heart rate slowly started to go down. I stood at the counter of the bookstore I visited. It recently opened up, so I wanted to see what it looked like. I ended up buying three books I’d been meaning to read for a while now.

The woman at the counter packed them for me. She was about to hand me the books when she paused and tilted her head. “You’re Ian Carter right?”

Once again, I felt tempted to deny my own name. “Yes, I am.”

“Have you found anything new in Emily's case?”

I wondered if she could hear how strange that question sounded. Why would I have found anything new in a missing person’s case? As far as I knew, I was not a police officer. I took a deep breath and bit back the retort that sat on the tip of my tongue. “Not yet but I‘m working with Hazel, the reporter who wrote the story. I’m sure we’ll find something soon.”

My tongue tasted like I’d eaten something bitter when I said I was working closely with Hazel. The very thought of doing that disgusted me. I would never work with Hazel no matter what.

The woman smiled, pleased with my response. She handed my books to me and even added a complimentary leather bookmark.

I thanked her and walked out of the bookstore. I considered taking a walk. It was a beautiful day out. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t so intense that it became unbearable. And the weather was warm, not too cold and too hot. It was the perfect day for a walk.

Sadly, I had to do away with that idea when I imagined being stopped by people on the street, all of them asking what my plans were. I got into my car and drove home, making sure to avoid my neighbors in case they also had questions for me.

At this point, I might as well join the police force with all the expectations the townspeople were putting on me. Anyone would think I was the captain of the police force after all the questions I’d received today.

As a couple of weeks passed, I slowly became a recluse because every time I stepped out, I was met with questions about Emily. Staying home was the only way I could avoid those questions. I had no answers to give, so it was better to just avoid them altogether.

Staying at home got boring fast. I’d always preferred to be outside seeing the world, not trapped inside watching it from my window. I wanted to go out, but I couldn’t. I had everything I needed inside the apartment but that didn’t stop me from wanting to leave.

I spent a few hours reading the new book I’d bought. I walked while I read or sometimes I sat at the counter, anything to make me feel more entertained. I dropped the book halfway and moved to the TV. I watched a soccer match and a basketball game.

It was enough to take my mind off things for a while but when the games ended, I had to deal with my boredom again because there was nothing else to watch. I wished I was outside, at a nice restaurant or something. That was how I would rather spend my evening.

I had to order in for dinner. Going out wasn’t an option, and I wasn’t in the mood to cook anything myself. I sat at the kitchen counter with my food and watched as the sun set through my windows.

When I finally climbed into bed, I felt glad that the day was finally over. It had been a mentally and emotionally stressful day and I was glad it was coming to an end.

I’d barely shut my eyes when my phone started ringing. I groaned and turned my head away from where the phone sat on the bedside table. It was way too late for anyone to be calling me. I hoped if I ignored the call, they’d get the message.

They did not get the message.

The person called and called until I gave up and grabbed the phone. I glared at my screen, but my anger abated when I saw who was calling it. It was my coach, George. I glanced at the time and saw it was past nine in the evening, which was very late, even for him. Still, I understood that it was still afternoon where he was.

I answered the call, not sure what to expect from George. He rarely called me when I was in Cloverhill.

“Good evening,” I said, adding extra emphasis so he knew I wasn’t thrilled about the late-night call.

“Oh shit, I forgot about the time difference. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. What’s up, coach?”

George sighed. “This business about the missing woman. What are you doing about it?”

It took a moment for my brain to fully process what he was asking me. It felt like the question I’d spent my whole day avoiding had somehow managed to seek me out in the safety of my home. I pulled the phone away so I could stare at the screen and confirm that it truly was my coach speaking. His voice sounded the same and the phone number was correct but there was no way he’d just asked me that question.

“What?”

“The missing woman. Emily.”

“How do you even know about that?” I asked, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we were having this conversation.

“Everybody knows about it. The news traveled quickly, and it has got people talking. Everyone wants to know what you’re doing about it.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“So?” he prompted.

“So what? I don’t see why I have to do something about this. I’m not a police officer and it’s not my fault that Emily was in town.”

“That’s not how everyone else sees it. That article Hazel published has put a lot of eyes on you and not in a good way.” George had never met Hazel, but he’d met Jade and she spent most of their interaction gushing about her best friend.

“Fine. So, Emily was in town because she wanted to get to know me and maybe in some insane way, it is my fault.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, Ian. But I am saying that you need to do something about this.”

“Something like what?”

“You have to work with Hazel. Help her out in whatever way you can so that Emily is found sooner. It’s the only way I can think of to help…”

I stopped listening. I’d rather cut off my right arm than work with that woman. It was bad enough that she was the one who put me in this mess in the first place but now George wanted me to work with her.

“Hell no,” I said, cutting into whatever George was saying.

He sighed. “At least consider it.”

“I already have, and my answer is hell no. I’m not going to work with that woman.”

“Hasn't she been your sister’s best friend for years, how can you both still hate each other?”

George had probably heard about how Hazel and I felt about each other from my sister. He’d never pushed for us to work things out and even told Jade that it was normal for people not to get along.

“Not everybody is going to like you,” he’d said. He was singing a different tune now.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve never met the woman.”

“Yes, but I’ve heard a lot about her and she doesn’t sound that bad.”

“That’s because Jade always sings her praises,” I pointed out.

George sighed again, this time deeper and more dramatically. “Look, the truth is that your inactivity doesn’t look good on you. Sitting on your hands while the rest of the world searches for a woman who traveled miles just because she’s a fan of yours… that doesn’t look good. You have to do something.”

It was my turn to sigh. I should have known from the moment he brought it up that I wasn’t going to win this argument. George had a way of convincing me to do things I’d already deemed as ludicrous. For the most part, it was because I had so much faith in him. I trusted him and he hadn’t let me down once. Every time I took his advice, I was always better for it.

With another deep, soul-numbing sigh, I agreed to work with Hazel. “I’ll speak to her about it. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

I dropped my phone back on the bedside table and stared at the ceiling. I’d have to talk to Hazel early tomorrow. I considered going to her office but then I remembered how her coworkers were positioned outside the door, eavesdropping on our conversation. I didn’t want that to happen again, so I decided to go to her apartment instead.

It was probably a better idea to go there tomorrow but I couldn’t sleep after my phone call with George. I pulled myself out of bed and changed my clothes before heading outside. It was so late, and darkness had fully covered the sky. I hoped Hazel wasn’t already asleep because that would make my trip to her apartment a waste.

I’d never been to Hazel’s apartment, but I knew where it was, and I knew her apartment number courtesy of Jade. I parked outside the apartment building and took the stairs up to her floor. I was walking down the hallway when one of the doors suddenly opened. It was a few doors away from Hazel’s apartment.

An older woman stepped out and our eyes met. “I thought I saw you,” she said as she squinted her eyes at me.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

“I saw you through my window and when I heard the footfalls, I knew it had to be you. You’re Ian Carter.”

This time I didn’t have the opportunity to deny my name because she wasn’t asking, she was stating. I took a deep breath and waited for the inevitable question that would follow.

“What are you doing about Emily?”

“I’m working on it, ma’am.”

“Hm. I know Hazel is really worried about her. She’s devoted all her time to finding that woman. She’s such a kind soul. She even—”

“I’m sorry ma’am but I really do have to run. It was nice talking to you,” I said, cutting her off. I didn’t need to listen to anyone sing Hazel’s praises. I already had Jade for that.

“Oh, all right. I won't keep you then.” She turned and walked back into her apartment.

I waited for her to close her door before I left. When I finally stood outside Hazel’s door, I was tempted to turn around and just leave my promise to George be damned.

I urged myself to finish what I started, and I was finally able to knock on her door. It took a minute before the door swung open and I was met with a version of Hazel I’d never seen in my life. Her hair was pushed back in a messy ponytail that left several strands of curly black hair falling out. She wore a pair of skimpy pink shorts with a matching tank top that had a lace neckline. I’d never seen so much of her skin. It glowed even under the dim light from the hallway, and I found myself wondering if it was really as soft as it looked.

I’d never seen her look so relaxed or so scantily clad. I had no idea she was this… sexy. It felt unnatural for me to associate such a word with Hazel but it was the only word that came to mind. I couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of her.

Hazel’s eyes widened in surprise and mortification contorted her features. “Ian!”

I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before she turned and rushed into a room inside her apartment. I stood in the doorway for a moment, shocked by all the things I’d felt towards Hazel. When I finally walked inside and shut the door behind me, it was as if I was transported to a whole new world. Hazel’s apartment building was simple in every way, but her apartment was uniquely decorated.

I’d seen glimpses of it from the pictures Jade took in here, but it was a whole other thing to actually be here. My gaze traveled from the expressive art on the walls to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf to the vases in the corner filled with what looked like violets. Finally, it settled on the bohemian-style carpet and the wooden center table that was decorated with sunflowers. I couldn’t help but smile because it was evident that Hazel shared her mother’s love for flowers.

It felt strange that I would smile about anything related to Hazel. Lately, a lot of strange things have been happening to me around her.

And it was terrifying.