Page 16 of I Would Die for You

“Over here!” calls a voice from somewhere beyond theNaked Warriormemorial.

I race toward the unnerving cry, willing myself to believe it can only be something positive. But Brad’s there before I am, and his face says it all.

“It was tucked under the bench,” says Justin, the chef from the Night & Day Cafe, as he holds up my little girl’s Rapunzel backpack. I swallow the ever-present threat of bile that the reactive acid in my stomach has reduced its contents to.

Brad pulls my shaking body into his and holds me so tight that I can barely breathe. “This doesn’t mean anything,” he says, more to convince himself than me. “Apart from that she was here and we’re close—I can feel it.”

I look to the water’s edge, just a few feet away, its inky-black surface sending shivers down my spine. How can something I have such a deep love and respect for suddenly feel so menacing? As if it’s holding the secret to the rest of my life and won’t give it up.

I will myself not to go there, but I can’t help but imagine Hannah’s tiny body lying motionless at the bottom. She’s a strong swimmer—Brad had made sure of that—but even if she had gone in of her own accord, there’s only so long her little organs would have been able to withstand the cold. An involuntary sob escapes from deep within my chest.

“Don’t let your imagination get the better of you,” says Brad, reading my mind.

“I just want her home,” I cry into his chest.

“I know,” he croaks, letting his guard down for the first time. “I just don’t understand who would do something like this.”

Hank appears at our side. “I think we’re going to have to seriously start thinking about whomight…” he says, with a grave expression.

“Do you honestly think this is someone weknow?” asks Brad, his voice high-pitched. “That Hannah’s been specifically targeted because someone has a grudge against one ofus?”

Hank shakes his head and puffs out his cheeks. “It’s something we’re going to have to consider. This doesn’t happen in a place like this for no reason. Have you fallen out with anyone recently? Is there anyone at work who’s pissed at something you’ve done, somethingyou said…?” He’s looking to Brad, whose vexed forehead suggests he’s having to dig deep to come up with something. I will him to try harder, because not only might it lead us to Hannah, but it will also mean that this has nothing to do with me.

“There’s no one,” says Brad, looking between me and Hank, the glow of the streetlight giving his already ashen complexion a yellowing hue. “We do so much for this community—we’re well thought of; at least, I thought we were…”

Hank puts a reassuring hand on Brad’s back.

“What about you?” he asks me.

I wince at his abrupt tone—or maybe that’s how he always talks, except now it suddenly sounds accusatory.

“You’ve got the city council hearing for the seals at La Jolla coming up—there must be quite a few disgruntled locals who think they’ve got as much right of way to the beach as the seals have.” He looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Have you come across anyone who’s been more vocal than most? Who’s perhaps taken offense at what you’re trying to do?”

I rack my brain, thinking of all the run-ins I’ve had since starting the petition to close the beach. But as much as I try to pretend that the old man who called me “an interfering bitch” might be riled enough to warrant kidnapping my daughter, I can’t turn a blind eye to the woman who coincidentally turned up on my doorstep today, asking questions about what happened twenty-five years ago. I always knew I couldn’t run from it—forever—that it would catch up with me in the end—but I never imagined that my daughter would be the pawn, punished for somethingI’vedone. How naive of me.

“Nic?” prompts Brad. “Can you think of anyone?”

My mouth opens and I go to speak, but there’s too much to unpack here and now, and it won’t go anywhere toward finding Hannah. So, I numbly shake my head instead.

“Right, we’re going to work backward over toward the Del,” Hank shouts out to the growing team of volunteers. “Make sure tocheck any tucked-away places—anywhere a child might think is exciting to hide.” He’s still acting as if this is nothing more than a case of Hannah having run off—at least to the locals—for fear that the more sinister reality will elicit a panicked community.

“What about your boat?” says Justin. “Could Hannah have gone there?”

In any other circumstance, it’s highly probable. She loves going out on the water, especially if it means she gets to spend special time with her dad. The pair of them often head out at the weekends, taking sandwiches and a flask to while away an afternoon on the waves. Brad invariably fills her head with tales of his Navy SEAL exploits and she’ll come bursting through the door, desperately needing to know if Daddy really used to be as brave as he said he was, now that he has a desk job.

“He’s even braver now,” I’d said to her last week when they came in from watching the military jets fly over North Island, just off Coronado.

“But he doesn’t do all that dangerous stuff anymore,” she’d said, looking at me all confused.

“No, but he gets to be your dad,” I’d said, smiling. “And that’swayharder than anything a Navy SEAL has to go through.”

She’d rolled her eyes and I’d laughed as if I was joking, but watching him now, as his panicked eyes dart from side to side and a tangible fear crawls into every crevice of his vexed expression, I realize that I meant it.

“Nic, go and check the boat,” says Brad, his brain clearly working at a million miles an hour.

“But…” I start, knowing that it’s a waste of time.

“She might have gone there if she was scared,” he says, as if trying to convince himself that the story everyone else is working to might actually be true.

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