LUKE
We had six months of happiness before Olivia disappeared. For days, I tried everything to connect with her—Facebook, Twitter, texts, phone calls, Snapchats, everything short of carrier pigeons.
I hired three private detectives and every investigation landed right at Ben Nelson's door. Olivia's brother refused to tell me anything. The man was as solid as a titanium wall.
I didn't know what to do with myself. Olivia was my world. I ached for her every single day. So, I bought this little island off the California coast. I paid craftsmen, architects, drywallers, woodworkers, gardeners and many more to work day and night on the house I promised I'd build for her. For four months, I'd done nothing but try to bring Olivia's dream house to life.
Then Ben came to me. Told me about the murder of Maria Santos and that Olivia had witnessed the horrible act. She could've died, too. The thought of losing her to some psychopath's bullet put terror into my soul.
