I pulled out my phone, plugged in Jack Smith Maryland and hit Search. The first six results were the articles about him going missing off the coast, the next two detailing how the search had been abandoned. Not only did the links include the video of me pleading for help on the beach, but also photos of him. How could Maya not have seen them? How had she not made the connection? Hadn’t she been curious after I’d called? Ash was right, she must have been overwhelmed by his return, I decided, because otherwise it would imply she didn’t want me to find him and that made no sense at all. She clearly cared for him. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. There had to be another reason, although whatever it was, nothing yet explained why Ash had never mentioned Maya once in eighteen months. Hadn’t he been in touch with her at all while he’d lived in Brookmount? That seemed so odd—then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to my brother, and Quentin seemed to prefer pretending I didn’t exist.

A tingle crept down my spine as I wondered again why he’d been living his life as Jack Smith—such a common name—off the radar, quite possibly without a bank account and definitely without a credit card or a car, and with a fake ID. He had cash stowed away in his apartment, and the place had been ransacked. Heron and Stevens thought he was involved in gambling trouble, and while they suspected he’d been playing for a while, I wondered if it was a more recent thing and had something to do with the engagement ring brochure I’d found. All that aside, could it be he hadn’t wanted to be found by Maya? Had he been hiding from her all this time? I grimaced at the ridiculousness of it, but the thought kept bugging me, and as I was about to go around in circles again, someone knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” I called out, wondering if I’d disturbed the people in the next room with my incessant pacing, until I heard a familiar voice.

“It’s Ash.”

I almost tripped over the corner of the bed in my haste to get to the door, which I tried to yank open only to find I’d put on the chain. “Crap,” I muttered, my heart speeding up as I fumbled with the lock, my fingers refusing to do as they were told. When I finally got the damn door open, Ash stood in front of me, his face pale.

“Can I come in?” he said, the remaining color sliding from his face. “Please?”