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I could practically hear the unspoken addendum.But it’s just going to sit on someone’s desk gathering dust for the next few days. Bitterly, I wondered if it would end up in the same stack as the police report about Joe releasing cockroaches in the dining room and bringing the health department down on us.
“My husband wouldnotabandon our business on its most important night of the year!” I snapped, guilt niggling over the fact that I’d briefly believed exactly that. “And our...friends—” I stumbled a bit over the descriptor. “—wouldn’t get up to go to the restroom and then just disappear, ignoring calls and texts!” I fumbled in my pocket. “Here, I’ve got Nat’s—my husband’s—cell phone. An employee found it in the alley behind the restaurant with a cracked screen!”
She looked at the phone in its black case with limited interest. “Seems like he must have dropped it,” she said.
Boiling anger swelled inside me; a thousand times worse than when I’d thought Nat had bailed on our reopening a few hours ago. Emiel’s hand on my elbow gave a warning squeeze. He hadn’t said a word himself, and I wondered if it was because he didn’t trust himself to keep his cool.Let Zalen handle it, that squeeze said.
“I can see you’re very busy tonight,” Zalen began. “Short-staffed, as well, I’m guessing. However, we do want to make an official report.”
“Fine,” the woman said blandly. “You’ll have to wait for someone in the back to go over the paperwork with you. Take a seat.”
I stared at her, and then at the lobby full of drunks and addicts. “Take a seatwhere?” I asked, and only received a shrug in reply.
In the end, Emiel glared at a pair of men who were taking up way more space than they needed to on the single, unpadded wooden bench seat that ran along one wall. I sat on it, staring into nothing as he and Zalen flanked me like bodyguards, holding the chaos at bay.
According to the clock hanging over the desk, I sat there for an hour and twenty-four minutes, my ass slowly going numb and my head pounding out a throbbing beat of pain. Eventually, a uniformed officer ushered us through a door and took our statements, writing everything down. He seemed a bit less inured to our worry and fear than the desk sergeant had been, but the hint of pity lurking behind his hazel eyes wasn’t reassuring.
“Don’t you want my husband’s phone?” I asked as he started gathering up the completed paperwork. “For evidence, I mean?”
“No, you’d better hang onto it,” he said. “I hate to be blunt, but it’s going to be a while before anyone digs into this case. And the vast majority of ‘missing persons’ show up on their own in twelve hours or less. If he does, he’ll want his phone.” His brows drew together. “Youhavechecked back at your house, right?”
“We’re separated,” I said faintly. “It’s not my house.”
“Well, you should go check there before you panic—all right, ma’am?” The man lifted the pile of papers and tapped it on his desk, neatening it. “I’ll get this sent off to the appropriate team, and they’ll contact you if they need more information.”
Without knowing exactly how it had happened, I found myself on the sidewalk outside with Emiel and Zalen, staring at the tall, narrow front of the brick building.
“It’s not the worst idea to look in at both houses, and maybe the Hope Project as well,” Zalen said, checking his phone for any replies from the others.
“Byron and Nat both left their vehicles near the restaurant,” I said, though of course Zalen already knew that. We’d also made it quite clear in the police report, for all the good it had done.
“I know,” Zalen said. “But it’s something. Are you okay to check Nat’s place on your own, Mia? Emiel, you can check at the house, and I’ll check the Project. We can meet back in Ladue.”
“Yes, okay,” I said faintly, hoping against hope that we’d somehow completely misinterpreted what had happened.
It was a vain hope, as the dark, empty house in Jennings proved. The place was locked up tight. I let myself in and turned on the lights, locking the door again behind me.
“Nat?” I called... but of course, Nat wasn’t here.
Acting on some nebulous idea of looking around to see if anything seemed out of the ordinary, I did a complete walkthrough of the modest space. Everything looked normal. All my energy seemed to flee at once—the brutally long and stressful day finally catching up with me. I flopped down on the living room couch, staring up at the ceiling without seeing it.
After a few minutes, I dug out Nat’s phone again. It was an invasion of his privacy and I knew it, but I woke it up anyway. A bloom of ugly dark purple pixels marred one corner under the crack in the screen, but it was still usable. The lockscreen was a photo of the two of us from years ago, when we’d first been dating. I remembered the day—a visit to Forest Park where we’d strolled through the art museum and visited the big cats at the zoo. I was wearing sunglasses, holding up a frozen Coke like it was a toast. Nat looked tanned and happy, his gaze fixed solidly on me as though nothing else around him mattered.
I swallowed hard.
The phone was locked with a biometric fingerprint, but when I swiped up, the prompt appeared for a four-digit PIN. I tried the first four digits of his birthday. Then the first four digits of mine. When that didn’t work, I paused for a minute, then entered the street number of the Elderflower Inn. Immediately, the home screen popped up.
I wasn’t sure what I was even looking for. I pulled up his email, but everything on the first two pages was restaurant and reopening related. Vendors, Quickbooks notifications, payroll, tax payment receipts, and so on. I scrolled through his contacts next, still not knowing what I expected to find.
Emiel and Zalen were both in there. I wasn’t sure why the knowledge gave me a warm feeling, but it did. I was surprised to see Byron’s name as well. I guess it made as much sense as Emiel being there... but I hadn’t gotten the impression that Nat and Byron liked each other all that much.
Curiosity won over the last remnants of my scruples, and I pulled up Nat’s text chain to Byron.
Hey, read the most recent. It’s been a while. I really need a hookup tonight. You free? Super 7 on Broadway, like before?
I blinked. The date was...holy crap. The date was right around my last heat. The one I hadn’t wanted. The one I’d spent with Zalen and Byron.
Struggling to make sense of the text, I scrolled back to see the earlier ones. Two other appointments to meet at a motel. Avery familiarmotel.