Sissy had wandered away a few minutes ago, murmuring something about needing to use the bathroom. Naomi must be in her room or in the office.
That meant it was just her and Caleb.
He met her across the living room. Millie searched his face for answers. But she couldn’t read his expression—only that it was stony.
He paused in front of her. “I’m guessing you saw that from the window?”
“I did.”
“Did you recognize the car?”
“No, I couldn’t see it clearly.”
“What does Garrick drive?”
The question tightened something in her chest. “He has more than one car, but his favorite is his silver Mercedes. I couldn’t tell you the model, except I know it’s newer.” She frowned. “Sorry. I’m not good with cars.”
Caleb nodded once. He didn’t look relieved—but something eased in his shoulders.
“That car wasn’t silver,” he said. “And it wasn’t a Mercedes. Do you know if he has any other car that might look like the one that pulled up?”
She shook her head quickly. “I . . . I don’t know. He buys and sells cars like some people buy clothes. I had a hard time keeping track.”
His spending had been the source of some of their arguments. He’d made it seem like they were doing great financially. But she’d seen their bank statements and knew that wasn’t true.
Garrick was going into massive debt in order to maintain his image that he was successful and to be admired.
“It’s okay. I got the plates, and I’m going to call them in.”
Another question surfaced in her mind, unwelcome and insistent. “If it wasn’t Garrick, then who was it?”
“I don’t know.” He reached for his phone. “Let me call the plates in and see if I can find out any information. Maybe some answers will make us all feel better. If you’ll excuse me . . .”
He headed toward the hall, already dialing. Millie watched him go.
She prayed the bad feeling in her gut was wrong.
She prayed that car had nothing to do with Garrick. Prayed he hadn’t somehow followed her.
Prayed that one day she might actually feel peace again.
chapter
ten
Caleb closedthe office door and leaned against it a moment.
The call rang more times than he’d expected.
Sheriff Micah Sutherland was a friend, and Caleb knew he could trust him. He was one of the few people in town who knew what they were really doing here at Refuge Cove.
“Caleb.” The sheriff’s voice came through strained, distracted. “Listen, I’m tied up right now. Everything okay?”
“I’ll keep it quick,” Caleb said.
“What’s going on?”
“There was a vehicle at our gate a few minutes ago. Driver took off when we approached. Virginia plates.”
