His jaw tightened. Jessie had disappeared, and this officer was going to obstruct his search with technicalities?
“But I’ll ask her,” Chen added. “I can tell you, for now, that she thinks he’s shady and she’s concerned he might be victimizing other women. It’s possible your sister is one of them.”
His heart clenched. Jessie was such a romantic, always wanting to believe the best about any person she encountered. He always hated to rain on her parade, so his warnings about Seth Baker had been muted. Just because he sounded too good to be true didn’t mean he was, he’d reminded himself. Just because you’re a cynical bastard doesn’t mean everyone’s an asshole.
He should have done more. He should have rushed to Sea Smoke Island the instant he got that text from Jessie asking to run something past him. Something had set off her alarm bells, but he didn’t know what. That was the last text he’d gotten from her.
Tina’s voice interrupted his guilty thoughts. She spoke more gently now; his fears must be showing on his face. “What brought you to this suite?”
Should he trust this random local police officer? So far, the police hadn’t done anything. He’d spoken to someone at the Harbortown PD, a young freckle-faced guy who’d suggested things like maybe she was just on a getaway with her lover. Maybe she’d lost her phone. Maybe she was somewhere with no service. Didn’t she love camping?
Apparently a brother’s intuition was not enough to waste police hours on. He himself hadn’t worked an investigation since his Army days, and he was definitely rusty. He’d been considering hiring a private investigator. Why not join forces with this badass, badge-wielding babe instead?
He made a decision. His best bet to find Jessie was to get Tina Chen on the case.
“How about if I show you?” he said.
“Okay.”
He headed for the door, but she didn’t budge. “You’ll have to come with me,” he said patiently.
“Where?”
Apparently she wasn’t one to just follow any old actor wherever he said.
“To my house.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You live here? On Sea Smoke? I’ve never heard anyone here mention your name.”
“Dark of Night is a pretty niche show.” He shrugged. “Our viewers are concentrated in the south, the midwest, and Indonesia, for some reason. We do pretty well in South America, too, but that’s thanks to Sofia.” His co-star was from Colombia, a real sweetheart underneath her bombshell persona. “Our New England numbers suck.”
“Listen, Jack Finnegan. I’m not interested in your global demographics. I want to find this guy and get my client some answers.”
“I’m right there with you. I swear. It’ll be easier to show you what I’ve discovered than tell you. Believe me, there’s nothing to find here. I’ve been here two days and searched the entire suite.”
“Really? Then what’s that?” She looked up at the ceiling and pointed to a bit of paper fluttering on the edge of the slowly rotating ceiling fan. “I noticed it when I was stretched out on my back on the goddamn floor.”
“Always investigating, huh?” He reached up, stretching his arm as far as it would go, but couldn’t quite touch the paper. While he was doing that, Tina dragged over a chair and hopped onto it.
“Everything in this suite is an antique. This chair is probably worth a lifetime’s salary.” He steadied it for her by holding onto its gracefully carved back. “Yours, not mine.”
She ignored him as she plucked the bit of paper from the ceiling fan. Rightfully so, since it was a stupid jab, unworthy of him.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“What is it?”
She climbed off the chair, the heels of her boots digging into the carpet as she landed. “It’s torn from a Post-It, that’s why it stuck to the fan. This looks like a woman’s handwriting. Did your sister write this?”
She showed it to him.
It was definitely Jessie’s handwriting. She’d studied calligraphy and even designed fonts for a graphics company, so she paid careful attention to anything she wrote by hand. But this one looked like it had been written in a hurry. Since they only had one part of the Post-It, it was impossible to tell what the entire message had been. But he could make out a few key words, which he read out loud. “Warn. Liar. Sally, or maybe Sandy, it’s smudged. Cel, could be either ‘cell’ as in ‘phone,’ or ‘celery.’ Touch. Paper. Heart. Out.”
“What does all that mean?” Tina squinted at the Post-It, then took a photo of it.
“No idea. Maybe she was breaking up with him, calling him a liar. A lying stalk of celery.”
Tina let out an oddly endearing giggle.
