Page 98 of Searching for Bristol
He could imagine him and Bristol sitting on the wraparound porch, talking about their days after work. He was already thinking about which walls could be knocked down inside to open up the place, and the kitchen was large, especially for the year the house was built. He’d get all new stainless-steel appliances, and they could refurbish the cabinets together. There were plenty of bedrooms, and the forest surrounding the backyard would be an amazing playground for children.
All in all, the property was close to perfect.
If only Bristol was here to see it.
His ringing phone scared the shit out of Rocky, and he jerked in surprise before reaching for it. Praying it was one of his teammates telling him they’d found Bristol, or Simon saying he had a lead, Rocky was disappointed to see Finley’s name on the screen.
She and Bristol had gotten close in the short time they’d known each other, and he genuinely liked the shy owner of the bakery. But he wasn’t sure he was in the mood to talk. To hear one more time how sorry someone was.
Ultimately, Rocky clicked on the green button to answer the phone. Anything would be better than going upstairs to his apartment.
“Hello?”
“Hi. This is Finley Norris. Is this Rocky?”
“It’s me,” he said.
“Good. Um…I heard what you said this morning, and I think it was really smart.”
“Thanks,” Rocky said absently, wondering if she’d just called to pay him a compliment.
“I’ve been thinking about Bristol, and worrying about her. After the morning rush, I wasn’t in the mood to bake and was futzing around on the computer, killing time, you know? And I got to thinking about the Pickleport Festival, and how awesome the jewelry was that Bristol had made. I’d been kicking myself for not buying anything before she sold out. So I went to her website, thinking maybe I could buy something to—” She stopped abruptly. Then sighed quietly and finished, “Well…to remember her by. You know, like a bracelet that would remind me of her every time I saw it.”
Rocky closed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going, not at all. If she was going to suggest making some sort of memorial bracelet people could wear, he just might lose it.
“I’d gone to her site one other time, just because I was curious. But this time I was surprised…because there’s a bunch of new stuff listed since the last time I looked.”
Rocky immediately sat up straighter in his seat. “What?”
“Yeah. There’s a bunch of new earrings and bracelets and necklaces. I looked at the bottom of the site, and it said it had last been updatedthis morning. Which I thought was weird. I mean…right? Isn’t it?”
He couldn’t speak with the adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins.
Finley kept talking. “Why would there be new stuff on her site if she’s been missing for two weeks? And I’m almost positive she hadn’t put up anything new since she came here. She told me she was enjoying her time off. So that got me thinking, and I went to the reviews page of her site.
“Rocky…there’ve been three reviews left in the lastweek. They were gushing about how beautiful the jewelry was—I mean, of course they were—but they also said they were thrilled she was posting new stuff again. One of the ladies who posted said she got her earrings yesterday, that she couldn’t be happier to have an original Bristol Wingham design in her collection.”
“Holy shit,” Rocky whispered, energy all but drowning him.
He knew it! Bristol was alive!
Yes, there was a chance someone else was posting on her site and using it to make money…but he knew to the marrow of his bones it was Bristol.No onecould make jewelry like hers.
She was out there—and he was going to find her if it was the last thing he did.
“Thank you so much for calling, Finley,” Rocky finally said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Of course. I just thought it was so strange. And I’ve been praying every night that she’s found.”
“Can I have Simon go and talk to you if he needs to?” Rocky asked.
“Absolutely. I’ll do whatever I can to help. Although he can visit her site and see for himself the same things I did.”
“Right, of course. You did good, Finley. Thank you. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up without waiting for her response. It was rude, but Rocky was too excited to worry about that at the moment. This was the first solid clue they’d received that Bristol was still alive. She was out there somewhere, making jewelry.
A momentary thought hit him that maybe shehadleft voluntarily. Maybe she’d gotten sick of Fallport, of him, and had started her life over somewhere.
Rocky immediately dismissed the thought. No, Bristol wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t disappear without a trace, not without telling someone where she’d gone. She certainly wouldn’t leave without a single one of her possessions, including her phone and purse.
