Falling into You (Falling Stars 3)

The private investigator.

Heart jolting in fear, I rushed to grab it with trembling hands, answering, “Hello, this is Violet Marin.”

It was the worst feeling being desperate for news and, at the same time, praying there wouldn’t be any.

Guilt flooded my being.

Wave after wave.

How selfish did that make me? What kind of person would make a wish so wicked?

“Hello, Violet. This is David Jacobs.”

“Mr. Jacobs. Have you found something?”

“Possibly. We tracked her to California. Do you recognize the name Martin Jennings?”

My pulse chugged like I was trying to wake from a bad dream, my mind sifting through the memories and faces.

It landed on one night in Hollywood.

My sister’s birthday years before. She and I had flown out there for the weekend because Carolina George had been in talks with a record label.

Mylton Records.

A disturbance curled through my belly.

A face flashed through my mind.

Slicked back blond hair and a smarmy smile on his arrogant face.

Martin Jennings had been the Mylton Records exec that had taken us out to a fancy dinner. The one who’d been sent to schmooze and flatter and fawn over the band. Show them a good time. Convince them signing on that dotted line was going to catapult them to stardom.

After the few things I’d heard about that company, it was clear falling for it would have been a bad call.

“Yes. I met him once…years ago,” I forced out.

“I found her in a picture with him dating back to close to six years ago. She was pregnant in the image.”

My stomach twisted in confusion. She’d only met him that one time.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m going to forward it to you for verification.”

“Okay. Could she be with him?” My words hitched in my throat. The plea right there. The walls beginning to spin.

Closing me in.

“Unfortunately, or fortunately, however you want to look at it, no. Five years ago, he was sentenced to life in prison in connection with the death of a man named Mark Kennedy. Mark was the original drummer of the band, Sunder.”

What?

Fear slugged through my veins, and my stomach completely bottomed out.

Terror whipping up a storm.

Trying to connect the dots.

We’d only been in Los Angeles for two days. My mind raced back to that time. How it had gone down. Parts of it were still a gutting blur in my mind.

Lily had only come home for a couple days after, and then she’d been gone.

I’d thought she was spreading her wings.

Finding herself.

Nine months later, she’d been abandoning that precious baby girl at my doorstep.

I’d been so overwrought with despair and the new life I’d been given, adjusting, trying to make sense, that I’d never put the dates together.

“And you haven’t found anything since? No pictures? No word?” The words left me on sheer desperation. “Someone has to know something. Someone has to have seen her.”

He blew out a sigh. “I don’t have anything solid at the moment, but I think we’re getting close.”

There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could feel it.

Unsettled waves lapped high.

“Do you think she’s alive?” It rasped from the depths of me. Hope and apprehension and all the things I didn’t know how to process.

“I can’t tell you that, Ms. Marin. I don’t want to speculate. The only thing I know is I believe I’ve picked up on a trail that I might be able to follow. Be patient. This is probably going to take a little time.”

Time.

Always time.

My heart reached for the house where my mama rested. Where the cancer ate away at her body while her soul continued to glimmer with hope.

And I knew…I knew we were running out of time.

“Okay. But please…do your best to find her. We need to find her soon.”

“I will.”

Hands trembling like mad, I ended the call, set my phone on the desk, and dropped my face into my hands.

The urge to cry was overwhelming.

Guts twisted.

So much hope.

So much horror.

The thought of reclaiming one of the most important people to me and losing another was so hard to bear.

The truth that sometimes to gain a piece of your heart, you had to let another go.

I had no idea how much time passed like that. Lost to the worry. Minutes or an hour.

When I froze.

Dread lifted the fine hairs at the nape of my neck.

Prickles a flashfire.

Awareness that pushed nausea up my throat and sent my pulse slugging in fear.

The crunch of a footstep.

But it was the evil that I could feel invading the space that made me want to throw up.

I started to whirl around but couldn’t before those footsteps stampeded and something was pulled over my head.

Darkness took me hostage.

Disorienting.

Suffocating.

It was a bag that was cinched down tight.

A scream ripped up my throat, and panic flooded my system. Rushing and gripping and beating my heart into mayhem.

What was happening? Oh god. What was happening?

I flailed, trying to rip the bag from my face.