Page 186 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

Everything seemed painfully normal. Families crossed intersections. Tourists walked toward the beach. A teenager carried a surfboard past the corner coffee shop.

Meanwhile somewhere nearby, Daniel Rourke was deciding whether Hannah Caldwell disappeared forever.

Sabre started walking. She carried no purse or briefcase, just her phone and keys, like Rourke had instructed.

The pancake house sat near the corner with faded blue trim and wide front windows. The smell of syrup and bacon drifted through the open entrance every time somebody came or went.

Sabre slowed as she approached. Her pulse had started climbing blocks ago, before she even parked.

A waitress near the front counter smiled automatically. “Table for one?”

“I’m meeting someone. I’m not sure if they’re here yet.” Sabre scanned the room. There were families, college kids, an older couple near the back, but no Hannah and no Rourke.

“Are you Sabre?” the waitress asked.

“Yes.”

“Your party’s outside.”

Sabre looked toward the patio doors. Of course. Outside gave him visibility, exits, and distance control.

She stepped through the side patio entrance into bright sunlight. Half the tables sat empty. The ocean breeze drifted through the umbrellas overhead. At the far corner table sat a blonde teenage girl alone.

Sabre froze. For one suspended second neither of them moved. Hannah looked older and thinner than Sabre imagined. Her long blonde hair was tied loosely back. She wore a gray sweatshirt, and her hands were wrapped tightly around a coffee she clearly wasn’t drinking.

But the eyes were the same. Those were Hannah’s eyes, and so was the cowlick.

The girl stood, nervous, like she was ready to bolt.

Sabre forced herself not to move too quickly.

“Hi, Hannah.”

“Hi.” Her voice shook.

Sabre stepped closer. Rourke wasn’t visible anywhere. That worried her.

“Did you come alone?” Sabre asked.

Hannah looked past Sabre toward the street. “Yes.”

Sabre was sure that was either a lie or an instruction.

Sabre sat across from her, and for several seconds neither of them spoke.

Then Hannah gave a small nervous laugh. “You never got me pancakes.”

Sabre felt emotion rise so fast it caught her off guard. “No,” she admitted softly. “I guess I owe you.”

A waitress appeared awkwardly beside the table. “Can I get you something?”

Hannah looked down like she wanted to disappear.

“Two orders of pancakes,” Sabre said.

The waitress smiled and left.

Silence settled again. Sabre studied Hannah’s face and posture. She was restrained, not drugged, not visibly injured, but she was frightened.