193: BLAME

LUKE’S POV

Andre and I got out of the car, moving forward to Ariel’s vehicle. She wasn’t there, but I was a hundred percent sure that this belonged to Ariel.

“I can’t see anyone here,” said Andre, looking around this area.

“Yes, but this is Ariel’s car. She must be around here somewhere.”

“In an empty place like this? I don’t really think so.”

“Come on, we have to search.”

“Luke, this is telling us that something isn’t right here.”

“So, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m not going to jump to conclusions. But my mind keeps on telling me that Ariel’s been kidnapped.”

sighed, still staring at the car. “I know. The same thought keeps running through my head. I’m just hoping for the best.”

“What is this?” Andre’s eyes narrowed down, and he slowly sat on his heels. He took two necklaces from the ground. One I had seen around Ariel’s neck. And for the other, I had no idea who owned it.

“This is Ariel’s,” Andre told me, flaunting the necklace that he was holding.

“Of course, I see that.” I squatted and took the necklace from his hand. I looked at it pretty well, remembering how Ariel had that around her neck, making her really beautiful.

“And this belongs to Janice.” Andre showed me the other necklace. “I think someone kidnapped the both of them.”

never be too sure about that,” I said, trying to be positive. But trust me, my mind was saying the

and looked around, trying to find any clues or signs of where Ariel

in agreement. “I’ll call them; you start looking for

lead. Suddenly, I noticed a piece of paper on the ground. I bent down and picked it up, my hands trembling. It was a note written in messy handwriting. I could make the

to Harriet. I was sure about that. I had been with her

me and noticed the

193: BLAME

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him without

out, too. “What is this supposed to mean?”

“That’s Harriet’s handwriting.‘

“Harriet. Your…”

prison for murder, but she broke

are you trying to say now? Is Ariel dead? That

But we have to be really

to know about this. Let’s continue our search. We can’t give up

right. I can’t give up

and I drove away, carrying Ariel and

station nearby and rushed to the front desk, asking for the officer in charge. A middle–aged man with a stern expression greeted

information regarding a possible kidnapping

raised his eyebrows and asked, “And

and this is my friend André. We found some evidence that our friend,

“Alright, come with me, and we’ll take your statement.”

We were hoping that the police would take

relationship with Ariel, our whereabouts, and even the

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