Page 24

24

MICHAEL

M y home feels more like a prison than it does my sanctuary. Pacing back and forth in the kitchen stopped being therapeutic thirty minutes ago, and I’ve upgraded to walking into the living room. This is ridiculous. Why hasn’t Patrick texted me back? Not even to say, "Fuck off, Michael." Nothing bothers me more than the cold shoulder. Nothing.

Talk about bad timing. Blake showing up at the same restaurant we decided to go to on the same night. How could that loser have even afforded to get inside? No doubt, hooking up with someone twice his age and ten times his annual salary. After our one date ended with me going to the crime scene, we never even spoke again. There was no point, and we both knew it. Or at least I thought he understood that too.

I could strangle him for pretending to be in a relationship with me. I guess he wants revenge for not hearing back from me, but we have absolutely nothing in common. Crossing my arms, I plop down on the sofa like a child having a temper tantrum. It’s not a good look, and I know it. Thank goodness I’m alone, or I’d be embarrassed about it later.

It’s been more than twenty-four hours without a peep from Patrick. I need to do something, so I grab my keys and rush out the door. Tempted to put the removable police light on my car and bust through traffic, I stop myself and take control of my emotions. No sense in working myself up too much until we’ve had a chance to sit down and talk about this.

After all, it’s a silly misunderstanding. Right? It takes longer than I want to reach the Seas the Day Country Club, but as I walk to the entrance, I scan the lot for Patrick’s car. It isn’t there.

I step through the doors and am immediately accosted by Devon. He’s wearing the same tight, white, Daisy Duke shorts and company t-shirt. His eyes light up like fireworks on Independence Day. I know I’m in for a show.

“Well, well, well,” Devon says as he saunters over to me. He puts his hand on my chest and sucks air through his teeth. “What do I owe this pleasure? Did you want my phone number? Oh, I know.” He puts his hands out in front of him, wrists touching each other. “Come to handcuff me? Lock me up and throw away the key, handsome?”

“Cool it,” I say. “I’m not here for you.”

Devon wrinkles his nose. “What do you want then?”

“Have you seen Patrick today? Is he here?”

“That old slag?” Devon’s face pinches together like he’s smelled a garbage pail of rotting fish. “He was a no-show, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets his ass fired for it too.”

“Doesn’t sound like Patrick to risk so much to have a day off. Has he done this before?”

He shakes his head. “No, but there’s a first time for everything.”

“Is Tina here?”

Cocking his head to the side, Devon narrows his eyes. “What’s with the third degree? Are they involved in something?”

“Please, Devon,” I say. “Have you seen Tina?”

“Fine, she came in for her shift, but when Patrick didn’t show up, she freaked out. Said something about him not being at his house when she checked on him this morning. Told our boss she was sick—something about her monthly cycle. Once she said that, the boss wanted to hear nothing else. Sent her home.”

“Do you have her phone number?”

“I can’t just give you her phone number.”

“I’m the police, and this is important. I need to get in touch with her immediately.”

We have a stare-off. I can see the wheels turning in Devon’s head. He doesn’t have any kind of loyalty to Tina, but he’s probably calculating how far he can push me or what he can get out of me before he hands it over.

He looks away. “Fine,” he pulls out his phone and shows me her number.

I enter it into my phone and say, “Thank you, Devon.” I put my hand on his shoulder. His posture sags ever so slightly under my touch. “I appreciate you.”

Devon’s face flushes red. He seems to regain his composure and says, “Sure, whatever.”

I rush out the door and place a call to Tina. It rings and rings without an answer. Fuck.

Calling the police station, I’m patched through to my buddy in tech, Matt. “What’s up?” he asks.

“I need some help.”

“Like official help, or like a favor?”

Technically, there could be concerns for privacy by asking Matt to find Tina Brokaw’s address by reverse searching her cell phone number, but I don’t care. Not when I need to know that Patrick is okay.

“I need a favor.” I hold my breath while I wait for Matt to respond.

“Michael,” he says. “Remember that time you drove me home after I called you in the middle of the night because I was too drunk to drive myself home? My wife and I were having troubles at the time, and I was really lost.”

I nod and let out my breath. “I do.”

“I said then, and I meant it, that I would always be here for you. Lay it on me, man.”

“Not sure if I told you about me dating a guy named Patrick?”

“You mentioned him a week or so ago… everything going okay with him?”

“We had a misunderstanding. I’ll fill you in on all that sometime over a beer, but the important thing is my inner senses are telling me something is wrong. I’ve been working on a case that has spread to his place of work.”

“Do you need me to hack into a computer system or something?”

“No,” I say. “Nothing like that. I have Patrick’s best friend’s name and phone number, but I have not been able to reach her. I am hoping she’s heard from him because he’s not returning my phone calls or messages.”

“Is he avoiding you? I mean… you’re not stalking him or something, are you?” There’s a hint of humor in his voice, but his nervous laugh falls flat as soon as it comes out of his mouth. “What exactly do you need, Michael?”

“You know how I have gut feelings. I haven’t been wrong in a while, and I’m convinced he’s in some trouble. You haven’t met Patrick. He’s not the type to ignore someone’s calls… not over a stupid misunderstanding like we had.”

“Shoot me the information, and I will work on it right away,” he says. “I should have it back for you in a matter of minutes.”

“Great,” I say. Disconnecting the call, I quickly send him Tina’s full name and phone number and then wait. Wait, and then wait some more.

My stomach is in knots, and I have so much pent-up anxious energy I could run a marathon. As I’m contemplating calling Matt to see what’s taking so long, my phone beeps with an incoming text message. It’s Tina’s address. “Thank, God.” I jump in the car and set the navigation. According to the GPS, it won’t take more than ten minutes to get there from here with the current traffic. “Hot, damn.” My luck is turning around.

Ten minutes pass, and I screech to a halt in front of her house. I rush to the front door and look for the doorbell. There isn’t one. I raise my hand to bang on the door when it suddenly opens. Tina screams something unintelligible as she slumps to the floor.

“Are you alright?” I hold out my hand and help her stand.

“You scared the ever-loving shit out of me,” she says. If her eyes could shoot, I’d be dead right now. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Patrick. Have you seen him?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you. You really hurt him.”

I put my hands up, palms out in front of me. “You have to believe me. What happened at the restaurant wasn’t what it looked like.”

“And what did it look like, Michael? Because I can tell you what it looked like to him… and me.”

I feel awful about everything that happened that night, but it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know that a random date I had weeks ago would show up and pretend to be in a relationship with me. But, somehow, I bet Tina wouldn’t give a crap about that. Not when her best friend is hurting like he is.

“I can see how it must have seemed,” I agree with her. “Trust me, if I’d been in his position, I would have walked out too.”

“Good, then you know how much hurt he is feeling right now and why he wouldn’t want to talk to you.”

Nodding, I want to walk away, tail tucked between my legs, but I can’t. The feeling I’ve been having… the one where Patrick is in danger won’t leave me. My gut is almost never wrong when it comes to things like this.

“If you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be,” Tina says, closing the door and locking it behind her. She steps around me. “Once I leave, you’re not planning to break into my house looking for him, are you?”

The idea has crossed my mind, but no. “Of course not.”

“Then might I suggest you leave?” Her tone has a warning to it. She doesn’t give a shit I’m a cop… not when it comes to her best friend. Her loyalties are clear.

“Promise I won’t bother you again, but I have to talk to you for a minute.”

“Make it fast.”

“I’m worried about him. I don’t know him as well as you do, but from our interactions, I don’t for a second believe he’s the type to completely ignore someone’s texts and phone calls. Especially after the connection we had with each other.”

“Patrick isn’t so desperate for attention that he needed to call you back.” She pauses and pinches her brows together. It’s clear to me she doesn’t believe what she’s saying. Sure, he isn’t desperate, but he isn’t the type to completely ignore someone.

“Have you heard from him today?” I ask. “When was the last time you spoke?”

She thinks about it for a second and then says, “Yesterday.” Tina pulls out her phone and taps the screen. “I have not heard back from him either. He hasn’t returned my texts or calls either.”

“Is that normal for him?”

She shakes her head. “No, but you really hurt him. Give him a few days, and I’m sure he will reach back out.”

“You truly believe that? There aren’t any red flags or warning signs to you that he might be in trouble?” I ask.

Tina shrugs. “Fine.” She shrugs and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t have any idea where he is and I’m fucking worried. If he’s totally fine and knows I’m even talking to you after what you did, he’ll never speak to me again.” She steps past me but then turns back. “I promise if he calls me, I’ll call you. But you have to promise to do the same. I’m really worried.

“Fair,” I say. Sending her a text so she has my number, I wait until I hear her phone beep. “There’s my number. Please call me.”

“Will do,” she says. “Why did you have to hurt him, though? He’s such a good person, a truly good guy. Someone you’d be fucking lucky to have.”

I look her in the eyes. “I know you might not believe this, but it was all a misunderstanding. The guy who showed up at the restaurant was a date I had one time… before I ever even met Patrick. He wasn’t my type, and I was a dick and ditched him at the restaurant.” I shrug. “He got his revenge. That’s for sure.”

I know the look on her face. She searches my face for a sign of me lying. Tina isn’t happy about it, but she believes me.

“I’ll call you as soon as I hear back from him,” she says.

“Thank you.”

Watching her get into her car, I get behind the wheel of mine. Tina is a good friend, and I know she wants what’s best for Patrick. So do I. Against my own instincts, I turn on my car and drive back to my place. It won’t be easy, but I have to wait.

Dammit, Patrick. Please be alright.