Page 66 of Married at Midnight

“Are there any signs of a break-in? A struggle? Did you notice anything odd?” Trevor asked.

They all started talking at once.

Trevor moved up two stairs and turned. He raised his hands and said, “Quiet!”

They all stared at him, wide-eyed. Even without his uniform, Trevor had a commanding presence.

“Viola, tell me what you know so far,” Trevor demanded.

“We arrived only moments before you. The front door was unlocked and partially open. We made an initial search of the house. The only thing I saw out of place was upstairs in the ballroom.” Viola’s face softened, and her gaze strayed to Lenny and Aaron, where they stood together. “Ellie did such a beautiful job with the decorations. It would be heartbreaking to let them go to waste.” Her voice wavered.

“Don’t worry, Grandmother. There will be a wedding on Friday with Ellie in attendance even if it takes me that long to find her,” Connor vowed, then turned to Trevor. “I want to see what’s upstairs.”

Connor and Trevor climbed the grand staircase, taking two stairs at a time while the others followed more slowly. They entered the ballroom. Instead of seeing the beauty Ellie had created, Connor focused on the one out-of-place chair. “She was here, and she was taken.”

Trevor frowned. “How can you be certain? All I see is a tipped-over chair.”

“I’ve come to know her in the past five weeks, and she never would have left one chair askew. Look at the others. They’re all perfectly aligned—to the millimeter. But not this one.” Connor bent down and studied the chair more closely. “This would have driven Ellie crazy.”

In his mind, Connor re-created the scene. “She was waiting for me to come home after a break-in was reported at the lab. We needed to talk.” He stood, studying the chair from the top. “She sat in this chair, waiting.”

Connor slowly walked to the door. “Something happened, maybe startling her. She got up, tipping the chair over as she moved to the door.”

Trevor narrowed his gaze, mulling over Connor’s theory. “You really think that’s what—”

“Over here,” Connor interrupted as he moved to the last row of chairs and bent down. Lying on the polished wooden floor was an abandoned syringe and hypodermic needle. He glanced back at Trevor as he tempered both panic and anger.

Trevor pulled an evidence bag from the pocket of his coat and scooped up the syringe, careful not to disturb any evidence that might be left behind. He sniffed the contents of the bag. “Smells like propofol. The anesthesia would have knocked her out instantly.” To the others he said, “I’ve called for backup, but until the detectives arrive, I could use your help if you’re willing to follow my directions.”

“We’ll do anything to help find our girl,” James Hawthorne said, his voice deep with emotion.

Trevor took charge. “Search the room for other clues, but be careful not to touch anything. Call me if you see anything.”

To James and Julie Hawthorne, Trevor said, “Would the two of you go downstairs and make a sweep for anything we missed?”

“What are we looking for?” James asked.

“Anything odd or out of place. But once again, I caution you not to disturb any possible evidence,” Trevor implored.

With a nod, they hurried from the room.

Viola and the Elvises started at the front of the ballroom. Only the slowness of Viola’s movements betrayed the fact she was still recovering.

When the others were out of earshot, Connor pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at the blank screen. Clenching his teeth, he said, “Why doesn’t whoever took her contact me?”

“They will when they’re ready.”

Connor released a growl. “I never was very good at waiting.”

“She’s safe for now.”

“How can you be sure?”

“They need her alive to bargain with you. Make sure you ask to talk to her when they do call.”

“And after we make whatever deal they want?”

Trevor’s face fell. “That’s when we have to worry.”