Page 58 of Zero Divergence
“Well, I still don’t like you. We’re even,” Rocky quipped.
“Come on in and grab a bite to eat,” Sawyer said, aiming abe nicelook at Royce.
The others greeted Rocky with various reactions. The law enforcement officers in the room were wary, the reporter was downright hostile, but Jace was friendly and offered his hand to the newcomer.
Rocky picked up the last clean plate off the island and began opening lids to pizza boxes. “Ah-ha. Hawaiian pizza! Someone in the universe is looking out for me.”
Royce shuddered. “Should’ve known the PI likes ham and pineapple on pizza.”
“No pizza shaming,” Sawyer countered. Royce had already made his displeasure known when Sawyer placed the order. He’d told Royce that those who eat processed cheese products out of an aerosol can are in no position to criticize others. The teasing led to good-natured name-calling which led to kissing and would’ve morphed into best-natured hand jobs if the people and pizza hadn’t arrived.
The vibe in the room had changed drastically with Rocky’s arrival, and it seemed like the group fed off the tension they’d picked up from Sawyer and Royce. On the bright side, it meant they ate and got to the meeting quicker, but on the reverse, it meant a cloud of volatility floated above them like fumes just waiting for a spark to ignite it.
Fumes. Ignite.One minute, Sawyer was standing in his kitchen eating pizza, and the next, he was trapped inside the burning church. Sawyer had never experienced heat like that before in his life. Every breath he took seared his throat and lungs as his airway seemed to shrink smaller and smaller. The acrid smell of his burning clothes and flesh made him sick to his stomach. The pain throughout his body was so severe it was a miracle he hadn’t blacked out. Then he heard someone calling his name through the billowing, black smoke. The voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance away, and Sawyer briefly thought it was Vic calling out to him as he transitioned to the afterlife. No. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to leave Royce and the happiness he’d found. Then he heard the voice again, but this time it was closer and more distinct.
Asshole! I’m coming. Where are you?
Royce bumped his hip into Sawyer, jarring him back to reality. “You okay? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
Sawyer set his plate down on the island. For the second time that day, the food he’d consumed turned heavy in his stomach, killing his appetite. He forced a smile on his face. “Yeah. As good as can be expected, considering the circumstances.”
“Speaking of circumstances,” Rocky said, seizing the moment to address the group. “I think I found the break we need.”
Felix snorted, then said, “Wow. Aren’t you a grandiose fucker?”
“Wow. Look who’s showing off his five-dollar words,” Rocky countered.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Holly groused. “Both of you shut the hell up. No one wants to see your tiny dicks, so there’s no need for you to whip them out and wave them around. Jacobs, tell us what you know.”
“That’s my girl,” Jace said, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her close so he could kiss her temple. “Badass.”
“Which you’ll see firsthand if you forget to put the toilet seat down in the middle of the night again. Nothing wakes you up like falling into a toilet.”
Sawyer’s mind drifted back to the way Royce had woken him that morning. Royce hip-checked him once more, but this time he saw desire in his boyfriend’s gaze instead of worry. Royce knew exactly where Sawyer’s mind had gone.
“I’ve been working on getting information about our missing courier for Richmond Laboratories,” Rocky said. “When trying to find someone older like Reginald Dozer, it pays to dig through yearbooks because their generation often stays in touch. I know my parents still go on vacation with friends they made in high school. I have yearbooks at my office dating back to 1922, and they’ve paid off dozens of times in the past. I learned our pal Reginald was a star athlete. He was captain of the baseball and basketball teams his senior year of high school back in 1962. To this day, those teams still hold several school records. I made a list of his closest friends based on various photos in the yearbooks and archived newspaper articles. I compiled a list and began tracking his friends down. Sadly, several of them died in Vietnam, but I was able to locate a few friends who retired in Florida and one who now lives in Arizona. I struck out locally since the only friend still around here lives in a nursing home. His dementia is severe and requires round-the-clock care.”
Rocky set his plate on the counter and wiped his hand on a napkin.
“Reggie’s best friend in high school was his co-captain, Clyde Brothers, who now lives in Florida with his wife. I decided to pretend to be a reporter writing an article about a sport anniversary. How hard could it be, right?”
“Fuck you,” Felix snarled.
“You couldn’t get so lucky,” Rocky replied.
The two men stared daggers at one another.Here’s the spark that will ignite the charge and scorch us all.
“Why don’t the two of you do us all a favor and just fuck already,” Jace said.
The PI and the reporter aimed their disgust at Jace, but neither voiced their opposition to the idea.Interesting.
“As I was saying,” Rocky said, getting back on track. “I called to talk about sports, and let Brothers ramble as long as he wanted. When he started to tire out, I asked him about Reginald. I told him I hadn’t been able to track him down, and no one had seen or heard from him in a while. Clyde admitted it was strange but said they’d drifted apart a bit after Reggie’s wife died. Then, Clyde commented on the irony of the situation since his granddaughter had called recently and asked questions about Reggie too. She said she’d met him while on the job. Reggie had seen her last name and asked if she was related to Clyde. She wanted to tell her grandpa about the conversation. Then Clyde branched off to talk about their hunting and fishing adventures together over the years.”
“What’s her name?” Royce asked.
Rocky waited for a heartbeat, making sure he had everyone’s attention. He pulled up a picture on his phone and held it up for them to see. He’d snapped a picture of a black-and-white image in a yearbook, but there was no denying it matched the drawing the sketch artist made while interviewing Tobias. “Meet Bonita Brothers.”
“Bonita and Clyde,” Sawyer whispered. She was blonde, pale, and had light-colored eyes with features so generic she could blend in anywhere without drawing attention to herself.