Cold Case, Hot Accomplice. Carla Cassidy

“I have your cell phone number. I’ll call you with any information I get.”

      “Fine. Whatever.” She whirled on her heels, grateful that at least with her back to him he couldn’t see the tears that once again burned in her eyes.

      She left the police station, got into her car and sat, unsure where she should go or what she should do but knowing she needed to do something. She couldn’t just go home and twiddle her thumbs while Aunt Liz was missing. She also wasn’t ready to share with her sisters what she’d found out, not until she knew more about this Edward Cardell.

      Steve had called her a control freak. For crying out loud, of course she was a control freak. Otherwise she couldn’t manage a successful business, take care of herself and her sisters and stay sane. The first seven years of her life had been so wildly out of control that she now clung to control and refused to relinquish it for anything or anyone.

      Her aunt was missing, and her entire world was turned upside down. She’d lost control of things, and she’d do whatever it took to find Aunt Liz and make her world right once again.

      With this thought in mind, she started the car and pulled out of the parking space. She’d check in at the Dollhouse, where the lunch rush would be in full swing, and while she was there she’d check the phone book. Surely Edward Cardell would be listed, and along with his phone number there would be an address.

      Unless he didn’t have a landline. If that was the case, then Roxy would get on her laptop to find him, or she’d walk the streets and ask people if they knew Edward and where he lived. The town wasn’t so big that somebody wouldn’t know him, especially if he had retired from the post office.

      She didn’t need to be with Steve Kincaid to investigate. She could do it on her own.

      Unfortunately, when she reached the Dollhouse she found things in chaos. One of the waitresses that Josie had called in to help cover Roxy’s absence hadn’t showed up, and although Josie was doing the best she could with the staff on hand, it wasn’t enough.

      Roxy grabbed an apron and got to work. The afternoon passed in a haze, with Roxy alternating between the kitchen and the customers. Each time her cell phone rang she fumbled in her pocket to retrieve it, hoping it would be Steve calling to tell her he’d found her aunt with Edward Cardell and she was fine.

      Instead, each call was from concerned friends or her sisters, checking in to see if there was anything new. By the time the restaurant closed at five, Roxy was exhausted and yet filled with a frustration that required some sort of action. She’d heard nothing from Steve all afternoon.

      “Roxy, sorry about the mess this afternoon,” Josie said as Roxy pulled an old thin phone book off a shelf.

      “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know that Allie would get sick half an hour before she was due to show up. We managed just fine,” she said absently as she flipped through the phone book to the c’s.

      “I haven’t seen you eat all day,” Josie said. “Have you eaten anything?”

      Roxy frowned and looked at Josie. “Actually, I haven’t.” She looked back down at the phone book, a small edge of triumph yelling inside her as she found Edward Cardell. She memorized the address, then placed the phone book back on the shelf and looked at the clock on the wall.

      It was five-thirty. Why hadn’t she heard from Steve by now? Surely he’d been to Edward Cardell’s place and had learned something.