retrieved the glass from the nightstand and held it out. “Do you think you can sleep tonight?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Do you want a Valium?”
“Two.”
Adam checked the brown plastic medicine bottle in the bathroom and found only eight tablets left. Time to call the doctor’s office.
Adam offered the tablets.
She placed the two yellow tablets in her mouth and washed them down. Without a word she handed Adam the glass.
“Why don’t you lie down? It’s ten-thirty.”
Adam pulled out one of the two pillows stacked up at the head of the bed. She slid down and then lowered her head onto the soft, down-filled pillow. Her eyes met Adam’s.
“Sara Ann’s coming back. I know she is.”
Adam stroked her hair. “You need to get some sleep, dear.”
Adam and Dawn sat together on the couch in the family room and watched the late-night news. One of the stations in Orlando had a short segment on the missing high school girl. The two choked back tears as they stared at Sara Ann’s picture on the screen. It was the one Adam had given Detective Wilkerson on Saturday, but Brad’s image was cropped out.
The TV blared: “Sara Ann Riley, a seventeen-year-old Cocoa Beach high schooler, is still missing this evening,” the anchorwoman announced. “If anyone has information, or thinks they may have seen her, they are asked to contact the Cocoa Beach Police Department. She has been missing since Saturday.”
A phone number appeared on the bottom of the screen. Sara Ann’s picture hung in the upper right-hand corner, as the background switched to the Riley driveway. It was night, but their home could be seen in the distance, the porch light glowing. It looked like nothing was wrong.
The anchorwoman came back on. “No one from the Riley family has been available for comment.”
Dawn leaned against her father, locked her arm with his, and rested her head on his shoulder.
“What do you think happened to her?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I want her back home.”
“We all do.”
The two continued sitting on the couch, softly sobbing and still not completely grasping the gravity of the situation.
When the news ended, Dawn kissed her father’s moist cheek and went upstairs to bed. Adam walked to the living room. Before entering the room he blotted the tears from his eyes with his shirtsleeve. Detective Carillo was slouched comfortably in the leather chair reading a magazine, a crumpled McDonald’s bag at his feet.
“That’s an interesting magazine,” Adam commented, pointing at the front cover.
Carillo peered around the side of the magazine. “It sure is.”
“My friend has a subscription and gives me his old copies. It’s humbling to see some of the yachts in there.” Adam stuck his thumb over his left shoulder. “And then I look out back at my twenty-one-foot Chris-Craft Bowrider. Well, anyway…”
“At least you got a boat. I’ve been in Florida for two years, and for two years I’ve wanted one.”
“Why don’t you buy one?”
“It’s a long story, but here’s the short version: My wife got the house she wanted.” A hint of a smile formed on Carillo’s face.
“Say no more, I understand.”
Adam stretched his arms upward as if trying to touch the ceiling. “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Riley.”
Adam lumbered up the stairs to the master bedroom and soon was sliding into bed beside his sleeping wife. For the time being, she was lost to the world. He had a fleeting thought about taking one of her Valium tablets. But the weight from mental exhaustion quickly settled upon him, and within twenty minutes he was in his own sheltered, dreamless sleep.
10
THE PHONE was ringing. Adam sat straight up in bed. It was 2:30 am. Valerie moaned and rolled over. A rush of adrenaline shot out from his stomach and through his body. A jackhammer was pounding in his chest. Sara Ann?
The phone rang again and he lifted it.