Only once we were in a taxi on our way into town did we realise we had no idea where the Octopus dive shop actually was. Thankfully our taxi driver was able to help us out.

"Walk down the small street beside the supermarket. It is on the yemeen—the right. You can't miss it."

Well, he was right about that. You'd have to be blind not to see the giant fibreglass octopus outside. It was the size of a small car, each arm jauntily holding up one letter of the word "Octopus". Of course, there was an arm left over, so they'd used that for the exclamation mark.

Flashing lights on each arm pulsated in time to bawdy piped music, and on a normal day, that alone would have been enough to stop me from going near the place. I'd go insane if I had to listen to it for longer than ten minutes.

As promised, there was Samir, standing behind the counter. How did I know that? Because his name badge read I am Sa ir. How may I hellp?

"Samir?"

He paused for a second, then reached under his floppy hair and removed a pair of earplugs.

"Sorry?"

"You're Samir?"

He looked at me as if I was stupid, then pointed to his name badge. Okay, yes, he was definitely Samir.

"I'm searching for a couple of friends of mine. Kat and Mo?"

At the mention of Mo's name, Samir's face clouded over, and he slammed his cup of coffee down on the counter.

"When you find him, tell him he is never borrowing my truck again."

"Uh, okay. Can I ask why?"

"When he bring it back yesterday, he just leave it outside with the keys in it. Anyone could have steal it."

Oh? So the truck was back with its owner?

"That sounds most unlike him. What time did he bring it back?"

"In the evening, and he promise to bring it back by lunchtime."

"Did he say anything when he dropped it off?"

"I didn't see him. I just woke up this morning and the truck was there, lucky for him. It is expensive truck."

Adam came up behind me. "Can I buy these?" He put two diving torches down on the counter. "And could we take a look at the truck?"

When Adam forked out a pile of cash for two expensive flashlights, Samir became a little friendlier, if not slightly bemused as he led us through a door at the back of the shop. A gleaming Dodge Ram was parked in a dusty yard, most out of place among the palm trees.

Adam gave a low whistle. Samir was right—it was a very nice truck.

"My father is top camel breeder," he told us. "This was birthday present."

He popped the locks, and I opened the doors. I had no idea what I was looking for, which was probably why I didn't find anything.

Meanwhile, Adam fished around in the bed of the truck. There were various bits and pieces kicking around in there, and he retrieved a diver's mask from under a grubby woven mat.

"Is this yours?" he asked Samir.

I scrambled ass-first out of the truck as Samir shook his head. Adam passed the mask to me, and I saw the initials KMR scratched on one edge.

"Katerina Marie Rawlins," I murmured.

"So this is Kat's?"

"Well, I can't say for certain, but those are her initials."

"Assuming it is, she must have come up from the dive. She wouldn't have gone down there without a mask."

"So where the heck is she?"

We left our phone numbers with Samir, who grudgingly agreed to ask around in case anyone saw Mo leaving the truck. He promised to call if he found anything.

Then we were back to square one.

"Do you have a recent photo of them?" Adam asked.

"I don't have any of Mo, but I have some of Kat."

I handed my phone over because I couldn't bear to look at them. The last pictures were from just before my aborted wedding. We'd been trying our outfits on the day before Bryce called everything off.

"Is this you in your wedding dress?" Adam asked quietly.

"Yes."

"You'd have made a beautiful bride."

A tear leaked out. Dammit! I thought I was past all this.

Adam kissed it away. "You still will be a beautiful bride. Just with a different man."

That was it. Another piece of my heart, lost.

I let Adam do the talking as we hit the high street to show Kat's photo to the shop and restaurant owners. What would I have done without him? It didn't bear thinking about. Nobody had seen her, and my shoes were pinching by the time we returned to the hotel. Even though Adam must have been exhausted himself, he insisted I rest on the sofa while he massaged my feet.

Was it too soon to fall in love again? I was beginning to think I might not have a choice in the matter.

Despite the dire situation, or perhaps because of it, I was so tired I almost fell asleep before the food arrived. I managed to force down a few morsels of pasta before I collapsed into bed. There was no question over whether Adam would stay. We didn't even discuss it. He just laid down beside me, then held me as we both drifted off.

In the morning, I woke up in the same position as I had the previous day. Adam too. The only difference? I was a bit braver as my hand slid downwards. When the alarm went off twenty minutes later, Adam's huge wotsit had been replaced by a huge grin, and I was feeling a sense of self-satisfaction because I'd learned a new skill.

One I intended to perfect with practice.

With little else to go on, we agreed over breakfast to canvass the shopkeepers we hadn't spoken to yesterday. Adam had the idea of getting flyers made up, so we also needed to find a printer.

"Maybe the hotel could help," I suggested.

"Good idea. I mean, they did a fairly professional job on the one for you. Someone even photoshopped your face into a little heart shape."

Was I ever going to live that one down?

Just as we were heading out the door, Gabe strolled up the path.

"We can't go diving today," Adam told him. "Or at all unless Kat and Mo turn up. They take priority."

"I wasn't expecting you to. Kat and Mo are the reason I'm here. Have you heard the rumours?"

"What rumours?"

"The rumours that Mo topped Kat and the other two missing girls and took off for parts unknown. There're a handful of variations—maybe he was involved in an operation to traffic people into Israel or possibly something drug-related—but those are hazy."

I'd received so much bad news lately that this time, I barely even felt giddy.

"Are you serious? Mo?"

I hadn't picked up any bad vibes from him. On the contrary, he'd seemed to be a gentle soul, and Kat would have told me if he'd done anything that concerned her. We spoke about things like that, Bryce excepted.

Gabe held his hands up. "Hey, I barely knew the guy. Don't shoot the messenger. I just thought you should know, that's all. People might not be too keen to help you."

"But why wouldn't they help us look for Kat?" I asked. She hadn't been accused of any wrongdoing. Surely people would show some compassion?

"The townsfolk don't like scandal. Fidda Hilal relies on tourists for its income, and if stories got out about foreigners coming to a nasty end, revenues would drop. It's far easier for people to pretend she decided to leave for some reason."

"So money's more important than a woman's life around here?"

"I didn't say it was right. But it's hard to make enough money to survive in this sandpit. Too many people scratch out a living on the breadline. If tourists don't come, families don't eat—it's as simple as that."

"Bad publicity or not, we have to keep looking," Adam said. "We can't sweep this under the carpet and go on with our vacation as if nothing happened."

"I'm not saying you should stop. Just be careful, that's all. And don't be surprised if you come up against a brick wall."

The nausea came back. Finding a needle in a haystack was hard enough without the haystack fighting against you. We went into town anyway, but by noon, we knew Gabe was right. Our search was fruitless. Yesterday, people had been non-committal but taken our details and promised to call if they heard anything, but today, they turned us away before we finished a sentence.

If it wasn't for Adam plodding along by my side, I'd have lost all hope. The man was a saint. He'd never even met Kat, but there he was, giving up his time and energy to search as hard as I was.

It was then that I realised I loved him, and it was that love that kept my heart beating.

Midway through the afternoon, we bought sandwiches from a pavement café, but I ate two bites of my cheese one and threw it away. My stomach couldn't tolerate even the blandest of foods. We'd just been to the only print shop in town, and they refused to help with leaflets. That left us with the hotel to try.

"Do you have contact details for Kat's family?" Adam asked as he chewed. "We should tell them that she's missing."

"I don't, because she doesn't have any. She was an only child, and her parents died in a car crash when she was ten. She lived in a series of foster homes until she was eighteen, and she's struggled to put roots down ever since—I think that's why she keeps moving from place to place."

"What about Mo?"

"I don't even know his surname, but somebody must. What about Samir?"

"I bet guys at the sports club would. But while we're in town, let's try Samir first."

At the Octopus, we found Samir in an even grouchier mood than before.

"Sorry, but I cannot help."

"Can't? Or won't?" I was done taking shit from the locals.

"Ma'am, I have my own family. I don't want to cause any trouble for them with the police."

The police? Why were the police involved? They wouldn't even give us the time of day when we tried to report Kat and Mo as missing.

"What do you mean?"

Samir shifted from foot to foot as if he wanted to make a run for it. Adam must have had the same thought because he moved sideways to block the door.

"The police say not to look for the tourist. That she went to Cairo."

"Cairo?"

Could it be true? Mo did come from there.

"That's what they say."

How were we supposed to look in Cairo? We'd barely made any headway in Fidda Hilal, and that was a tiny town. Cairo was a sprawling city.

"And Mo? Did he go to Cairo, too?"

Samir shrugged and shook his head. "Mo is Egyptian. He does not concern you. You must leave now."

He spread out his arms and shooed us towards the exit. As soon as we stepped out the door, Samir slammed the metal shutters down on the shop, and a few seconds later, the lights on the Octopus went out and that awful music stopped playing.

"What now? Do we stay here? Go to Cairo? Give up and fly home?"

Adam shook his head. "Not Cairo. There's a distinct smell of bullshit floating around here. We've got two rumours circulating, and they contradict each other. How could Kat be murdered by Mo and have gone to Cairo?"

"I don't know. I just don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I can barely even remember my own name."

"Then it's time to go back to the hotel. We both need some rest."