"Why not? It's way past time to be keeping secrets."
"Will you promise not to tell anyone?"
"No," I said flatly. "I can't make any promises, so tell me or don't tell me. It's up to you."
"All right. I know you loved Melanie, so you won't want to do anything that will hurt her."
"That's true."
"About a week before Melanie vanished, I saw her at the pharmacy looking at pregnancy tests."
Shock ran through me. "Are you sure?"
"Well, when she saw me, she dropped the test and grabbed a box of condoms off the shelf."
Pregnancy test? Condoms? My mind whirled with the implication. "She never told me she had sex with anyone. I know she made out with some guys, but she never said anything went further than that. Did she buy the condoms?"
"No. She made some joke about the different sizes, then she put the box back, and walked across the aisle to get tampons. I told her if she wanted to buy condoms, I wasn't going to judge. She said she'd never buy condoms in town, because her father would probably find out and kill her. I said I'd buy them if she wanted them. She just laughed and said she was good, and she was just kidding."
"And you told no one this?"
"I didn't. When Sheriff Ryan asked me if Melanie had a boyfriend, I said no, because I didn't think she did. And it wasn't like I saw her buy the condoms or the pregnancy test. She could have just been goofing around."
"The sheriff asked me about Melanie's love life, too. I said the same thing you did, that I wasn't aware of anyone serious, but she'd kissed a few boys that summer, including Ben."
"I'm sure Sheriff Ryan didn't want to hear that."
"He didn't really react. Did Ben ever say if he and Melanie hooked up?"
"No. He never said that. And she liked other guys, too: Carter, Alex, that red-haired kid, Joshua."
"I don't remember him."
"He only came one summer."
I sighed. "I can't imagine Melanie having sex and not telling me. We were so close." My words felt like an echo of what Brooklyn had said when she'd found out that Kelsey had slept with Carter. Maybe we were never as close with people as we thought.
"This is why I'm worried about Drake writing a book," Jenny continued. "Melanie's private life should stay private."
"Well, that's between Drake and his parents."
"It sounds like you're getting involved with Drake."
"Not in the writing of a book. But if there is a connection between Melanie and Kelsey, then I have to find out what it is."
"Be careful around Drake, Willow. His obsession knows no bounds. If you get on that ride with him, you may never get off. I don't think that's good for either of you."
"Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. Until Kelsey comes home, I have to chase every lead."
"I understand. I should go. I hope there's good news soon."
"Me, too."
After Jenny left, I finished my lunch, grabbed the emergency credit card from the kitchen drawer as well as an extra car key, and called a cab. I probably could have asked Jenny for a ride to Willie's, but then I would have had to explain why I'd gone there and who I was with, and I couldn't go through all that again.
Despite Jenny's warning about Drake, I had already promised to help him, and I intended to do that. First, I wanted to get my car.
I arrived at Willie's a little before two. The bar was open, but there were only a few cars in the lot. I slid behind the wheel quickly, feeling nervous about being in the area by myself. Then I drove a few blocks to the public parking lot across from the restaurant.
When I entered the Crab Pot, I didn't see Sylvie in the dining room, just a hostess and a couple of servers I didn't recognize. I jogged up the stairs to the apartment. The door was partly open, so I knocked, then walked in.
"Drake?" I called out.
The man standing by the coffee table whirled around, but it wasn't Drake; it was his father, Holt Maddox.
Holt stared at me in shock, his eyes oddly unfocused. He was still a big man, but he looked much older than I remembered, and his hair had turned completely white. He was holding a photograph in his hand. I could see it was one of Melanie, the same one that had been on the missing posters that had been all around town ten years ago.
"You," he said, his expression shifting. "Where is she? Where did you leave her?"
"What?" I asked, surprised by his questions, by his aggressive tone.
He stalked forward, and I instinctively backed up. But I hit the wall, and there was nowhere else to go.
"Melanie. You know where she is. Tell me. I have to get to her."
"I—I don't know where she is," I stuttered.
He moved so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
"It's going to rain again," he said. "She'll be cold and scared. Tell me where she is. You know."
"I don't know."
"You do." The photo dropped as he put his hands on my shoulders, pressing me against the wall. "Tell me now."
I saw the desperation and anger in his gaze. His hands were gripping me so tightly, I could feel the bruises forming.
"I'm sorry. I can't. Please let me go."
"Tell me where my little girl is," he ordered again. "Or I will make you very sorry."
There was murderous intent in his eyes. I needed to get away. "Mr. Maddox, please. It's me, Willow. I'm Melanie's friend. I love her."
"No. You did this to her. You need to talk."
He pressed me harder against the wall and a terrible fear ran through me.
Chapter Eighteen
"You need to stop lying," Holt said. "Tell me where she is."
"I—I can't."
The door suddenly flew open with a bang, and Drake rushed into the room.
"Dad! Let her go." When his father didn't immediately release me, Drake grabbed his arm. "Let her go, Dad," he repeated.
Holt Maddox didn't take his eyes off me. "She knows something. She has to tell us."
"She knows nothing, and you need to let her go. You're hurting her. You don't want to do that, Dad. This is Willow. This is Melanie's friend."
Mr. Maddox's grip on my shoulders finally eased as Drake's words sank into his consciousness. His gaze refocused on my face, no longer murky or panicked. He dropped his hands and stood back, his breathing short and ragged. "I—I'm…sorry."
"What happened?" Drake asked, his worried gaze moving from his father to me and then back to his dad.
"I'm not sure," Holt said in confusion. Then he suddenly gathered himself together. He leaned down and picked the photo up off the floor. "Why do you have this photo and all those files?" He waved his hand toward the files on the table. "What are you doing with the police report?"
Before Drake could answer, Sylvie appeared in the doorway. "What's going on?" she asked with concern. "I heard shouting."
"Do you know what Drake is doing up here?" Holt demanded. "He's got a box of files on Melanie."