Lost in Silence (The Lost Series Book 1)(8)

I hear footsteps approach, multiple sets. They walk past my room, stopping at her door. Someone knocks on the door.

“Alice Scott?” I turn to the window and cautiously peek out. There are at least half a dozen uniformed officers standing behind a man in a gray suit. “I’m Detective Sean Edwards with the LAPD, please open the door.”

My breath catches, her name. I need to remember to call Sneak tonight with it. Meanwhile, I soaked up every detail of the scene unfolding before me.

“Ali, baby, its Erik,” oh, yes that voice sounded familiar. Douche bag was back. I note his name too. Sneak was going to be busy tonight. “Open the door sweetheart.”

“Mr. Scott, please let us speak with her,” the suit says. Yeah, douche bag, back the fuck off! “We need to assess her mental state, especially if what you’ve told us is true.”

“What do you mean if?” Erik screeched stepping into the man. “She was kidnapped.”

“Sir, please, step aside,” one of the uniformed officers steps in between Erik and the detective. Erik moves back reluctantly, his eyes dark and angry. The officer pushes him back further towards the stairs, further still down to the cruisers without laying a finger on him. The detective whispers something to another officer standing by. He straightens and heads toward the cruisers as well. Detective Edwards turns back to the door and knocks again.

“Alice, it’s Detective Sean Edwards again. Your husband is worried. He claims you’ve been kidnapped. Mrs. Scott, I am here to help. Please open the door and we can talk.”

My heart is pounding in my chest. Husband? Kidnapped? My eyes swing to the closet behind me. Something didn’t add up here and Detective Edwards needed to be clued in. There is no way this woman was kidnapped.

Erik’s words replay in my head. I know she’s afraid. She better be. It’s open season. He wasn’t a man worried about a kidnapped wife. He was a man who’s been denied his play toy. He took a chance going to the police with this bullshit story though.

I step toward the door and softly speak two words to the woman in my closet before cracking open the door. “Trust me.”

A uniformed officer stands guard at my door, his back to me. He quickly turns and steps into my line of sight, “Sir, please go back inside and close your door.”

“She left,” I say but the uniform doesn’t budge.

“Sir, this is police business. Go back inside your-”

“She’s gone,” my voice louder interrupting him. Detective Edwards hears me this time and he turns.

“What was that?” he looks over at me, his eyes briefly resting on the uniform. “Franks, let the man speak.”

“She’s gone,” the officer moves aside and I step out of my room further, leaving the door slightly ajar. I don’t want them to think I have anything to hide.

Detective Edwards hold up a photo. “Is this the woman you are referring to?”

The woman in the photo is a few years younger but it’s her. Instead of blonde, her hair is a deep shade of sable brown, shiny and healthy. Her lips are full, pink and upturned into a breathtaking smile. Dark eyes stare back at me, filled with joy. Her body is stunning in a two piece swimsuit. Curves in all the right places, everything a man would desire. The woman hiding in the closet is a fraction of the woman staring back at me.

“Her hair is blonde now,” I nod. “She left though, soon after douche bag’s first visit.”

“First visit?” he asks, stepping towards me. His interest piqued, concern etched onto his face.

“He was here earlier today,” I flick my head in Erik’s direction. “He wasn’t very nice though. Banging on the door, cursing up a storm and making threats because we wouldn’t let him in. He said some pretty disturbing things to her though, don’t know if she heard him or not.”

“Mr. Scott claims his wife was kidnapped,” I could see the wheels turning. He doubted the man’s story even more. I’d bet my left nut Erik hadn’t told him about his earlier visit.

“He never mentioned a kidnapped wife and he didn’t act like a man distraught. I’ve never had a missing wife though,” I cross my arms and shrug.

“What’s your name?” the detective takes out his notepad and a pen. I had to tread lightly here.

“Hudson Rivers,” a few of the officers snicker, but I’m used to it. My parents had a sense of humor when it came to naming my siblings and I. “I’ve been here since last Tuesday.”

“Have you seen Mrs. Scott come and go?”

“Yes, she checked in a day after me, alone. A single bag. No car. She leaves alone and arrives home alone. She’s quiet.”