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neck.

“I’m so sorry, Zoe.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sorry they never found a body. Hopefully, with the anniversary appeal to the public, someone will come forward, so you can set her to rest.”

Zoe felt the palm of his hands gently rub her shoulders. She turned to him and buried her face in his chest.

The scent of his woody aftershave invaded her senses and offered her a familiar comfort, but even that did little to ease the longing for her long-lost sister.

“It’s been twenty years, Malcom,” Zoe mumbled into his chest “I’ve not seen her since we got married. I was in my forties. She never even made it to the wedding,” she sobbed. It was impossible to keep her composure.

“Shhh, I know honey.” He tipped her chin until their eyes met. “I know. Keep hopeful, okay. There’s no body, so there’s still hope.”

Zoe glanced away, then resisted when Malcom cradled her face in his hands. After several seconds ticked by, she gazed at him through tear-filled eyes.

His large green eyes stared back at her, and she nodded, mute of any response.

“Let’s go, Detective Jones will be waiting for us.” Malcom took her by the hand.

Zoe glanced back to the kitchen counter at the newspaper’s headline with a request for the general public to contact the tip line for any information on the twenty-year anniversary of Mariya’s disappearance.

“I’m so sorry to spoil Valentine’s Day with all this Malcom, it’s just—”

“Please, don’t apologise, Zoe. It’s not a problem. Let’s just go and speak to Detective Jones and see what she has to say.”

Zoe nodded again, and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve.

“Here.” Malcom chuckled and pulled out a tissue from his pocket.

“Thanks.” Zoe took it and smiled up at him. “Okay, let’s go.” She took her husband of twenty years by the hand, allowing him to lead her to the door.

A feeling of dread pooled in her stomach. Everyone had told her to ‘remain hopeful’ over the years because a body never surfaced. But that was easier said than done.

Mariya’s life had started off rough due to her mother, and at times, Zoe wasn’t convinced about the happy facade her sister tried to paint over the years. She knew better than anyone that Mariya suffered from depression. She had a number of triggers that would send her over the edge. And in all honesty, she wasn’t convinced that Jarrad, Mariya’s husband, helped her manage her emotions and well-being well enough.

In fact, she despised the man.

He was too cocky, far too entitled, and way too unworthy of Mariya’s devoted love.

But she didn’t want to come across as the disapproving older sister, who, at the time, was single and childless. Not when her baby sister so desired to be happy.

3

Run Away Wife?

Detective Ruiz

Twenty minutes later, Ruiz cruised through the centre of Miami.

The palm trees and scantily dressed woman caught his eye.

He turned down 62nd Avenue and rolled to a stop by the West Miami Police Department’s parking garage entrance. Flashing his fob key over the scanner, he pulled inside, then swung into the first empty space he saw.

Grabbing his tie off the passenger’s seat, he stepped out of the car, locked it, and then headed into the building. As he entered, he adjusted his tie and braced himself for Detective Welsh’s grilling over why he couldn’t get more information from Mr. Lee’s confession.

His mind was pre-occupied with the case he had just been assigned. It was his first ‘big break’ as a new detective for the Miami police department. Ascending the corridor, he took a left, and as he did, he collided head one with one of the secretaries.

“Oh, damn.” He caught the female by the arms, so she didn’t topple over on the heels she had on. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. No worries, Detective.” A smile bloomed on April’s lips. “How are you today?”

Ruiz blushed as April, one of the administration secretaries, adjusted the pearls around her neck, then swept a lustful gaze over him from head to toe.

“I’m fine,” he coolly responded. “How are you, April?”

April opened up the collar of her shirt wider. She smiled at Ruiz and fanned her neck. “Oh, ya know, just hot as hell in this place. But I’m okay.”

She batted her lashes at him, moved in closer, then bit the corner of her lip.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she purred at him. “What’s your plan for tonight, Detective?” Her smile widened. “Got any?”

“Ahh, well…I err—” Ruiz stammered as he inhaled April’s floral-scented perfume.

“What’s the matter?” April stepped closer to him, pressing her body against his lean frame. “No girlfriend to keep you company?”

Ruiz paused, not sure how to respond. It wasn’t the first time April tried to find out his personal relationship status, or tried to make an advance.

Generally, not one to mix business with pleasure, he found April’s allure hard to resist. Conjuring up all the willpower he had, he broke the intense gaze and looked over her shoulder, toward the photocopier.

“I just, well, uhm…Valentine’s really isn’t my thing. Plus, I’ve got a lot going on with this case on Mariya Crosby.” He stepped back to widen the gap between them.

“Oh, yeah, the request for information on the old case. I saw the tip hotline request last night on the news. It’s sad. Huh?” April cooed then lowered her lashes with a sad face.

“Yeah, it is. I better go April. Anything important I need to know about?”

“No, nothing urgent.” April smiled up at him again.

Ruiz looked into her ice blue eyes, then peeked at her cleavage one last time.

God, keep it together, man. He imagined what kind of bra was holding April’s perfect pair of breasts in place, then blushed.

“See ya.” He regained his composure and tried to make a quick exit before April ate him alive. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay, Dominic,” April responded.

The emphasis on his first name did not go unnoticed by Ruiz. Turning on her four-inch stilettos, she winked over a shoulder at him.

Ruiz chuckled and shook

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