Free Night Waves by Wendy Davy Page B

the camera.
    He scanned the crowd, searching for anyone who looked as though they didn’t belong. Numerous men and women stood around, most wearing some variety of press identification. A few curious tourists lingered in the back of the crowd, but none looked overly suspicious.
    A surge of adrenaline swept through Nick when he spotted Cali across the parking lot, leaning against the hood of her silver-blue car. It may not be too late after all. Nick had not expected her to be there. He assumed she planned to watch the press conference on TV from her motel room. He should have known better.
    Cali’s hair was pulled back; a few loose tendrils framed her face. She held her arms crossed over the blue sundress she wore, and her eyes were hidden behind her fashionable sunglasses. She looked uncomfortable as she crossed her ankles first one way, then the next. Or maybe she was nervous. He couldn’t blame her. He was nervous too.
    Nick knew the moment Cali looked at him. He couldn’t see her eyes through the dark lenses, but her lips curved into a hesitant smile. He wanted to smile back, to give her reassurance, but the reporters had run out of patience.
    “How many women are missing? Do you have any suspects yet? Are you equipped to handle situations like this?” The questions bombarded him, some blending into the others. Forced to turn his focus away from Cali, he held his hands out to quiet the press.
    “Thank you all for coming.” He waited until they settled down before continuing, “I’ve called this press conference to enlist your help in the search for Serena Taylor. She is a twenty-seven-year-old woman who was reported missing from Coral Isle by a close friend on Sunday of this week, a day after she was supposed to have arrived back in her hometown of Brookstone, North Carolina. Ms. Taylor…Serena…is known to be responsible, and it is highly unlikely she went somewhere on her own without notifying her family or friends.”
    As Nick spoke, his nerves abated and he fell into his usual, authoritative and professional tone. “She’s Caucasian, has dark-brown hair, and is five-foot-six-inches tall, weighing approximately one hundred-forty pounds. Witnesses have reported seeing her leave her oceanfront rental cottage alone late Friday evening wearing a yellow tank top and black Capri pants. She is thought to have been heading out to the beach for an evening walk.”
    As he spoke, he continually scanned the crowd. Helen stood off to the side, snapping photos from various angles. He was not surprised to see Deputy Owen standing to his left and a few steps behind him, directly in view of the CNN camera. Deputy Castle paced in the distance, keeping far away from the spotlight.
    Nick’s gaze returned to Cali. He had given Serena’s description and the basic details. Now it was time to make it personal. He wished he had time to ask Cali if it was OK with her. To prepare her. But, considering the reporters began murmuring and asking questions again, he knew his time had run out.
    “Before I give further details, I’d like to ask Serena’s close friend, Cali Stevens, to come forward and speak to you about who Serena is, and implore your assistance in finding her.” He stepped to the side and held his hand out for Cali. Shock streaked across her face. But, with little hesitation, she straightened from her position on her car and walked toward Nick. Everyone turned to face her, but she kept her focus on him.
    As she neared, Nick stepped forward, pressed his hand to her lower back, and leaned close. “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot. I wanted to ask you first but…”
    “It’s OK.” Cali removed her sunglasses and met his eyes. “Thank you Sheriff. This means a lot to me.” She spoke so low against the murmuring crowd that he barely made out the sincere words.
    Stepping into the middle of the chaos, Cali turned to face the crowd. Nick wanted to follow her. He wanted to keep his hand on her lower back to