Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“And you haven’t heard from her?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Interesting because she called me earlier. I didn’t answer because I wanted to wait and see what you said before I start lying my ass off.”
“I found a happy middle ground between the story you suggested and something closer to the truth. Said I met you, and you told me about the post. That we got to talking and you moved in next door before this thing happened.”
“That was clever.”
“Figured no reason to commit a felony by lying to a cop.”
“Yeah, that’s how I play it.”
It’s a relief to hear. Not that Detective Roth isn’t going to give me hell about this, but at least we don’t have to get into the specifics of how we actually met…and they have some reliable evidence that could help them get their act together and do something to make sure Leif’s safe.
“I don’t know what was in my head,” he goes on. “I guess from watching so much TV, I had this thought that they were gonna swoop me into an interrogation room and try to get as much information as they could, but they just gave me Detective Roth’s card. Told me she might give me a call.”
“Like I said before, it’s so little to go off of, and Roth isn’t convinced the two disappearances are connected. Young guys, they go missing sometimes, that’s what she told me. If we had that fucking letter, I think we’d have something, but—”
“You didn’t mention Michael was your brother.”
I’m quiet.
Very quiet.
I take my first bite of the coleslaw. The shift in conversation has sucked some of the joy out of the flavor, but it’s still good.
“Yeah,” I say after swallowing. “I knew you were gonna find out sooner or later. I preferred for it to be later, and not to have to be the one to talk about it. It does…get me emotional.”
I’m waiting for him to make a comment, like others have, about the fact that I don’t appear very emotional, but he wears a warm expression as he says, “I’m sorry. I don’t have any siblings, but that must have been hard.”
“You have to take care of Mike,” Dad said, his eyes wild and wide as he hands me the gun. “You have to always be there if anything happens to me. It’s all on you, bud.”
I nod. “As you probably already saw, we’re very close. When I heard about this letter, I was surprised he hadn’t mentioned it because we spoke on the phone pretty much every day. I guess he thought it was nothing, but God, if he knew how big this was going to get, I’m sure he would have taken a pic or something.”
“So you’ve looked for the letter?”
“I checked his room at the apartment he was staying in. Nothing.”
“It’s eerie hearing you say that mine is similar to your brother’s. It sounds like this person is trying to make someone feel special but then gives the same bizarre compliments to different people.”
“Definitely sounds like a creeper. Not that all creepers are bad.”
I immediately regret making the tasteless joke at an insensitive time, but Leif snickers, and it’s nice that, despite not knowing each other long, he seems to get my weird sense of humor.
But just as quickly, he quiets, surely freaked out about the possibility of being a serial abductor’s next victim.
“I should probably go,” he finally says.
“You haven’t really eaten.”
“I put some in the fridge at my place, and I’m not really hungry right now. You can store the rest of the chili and bring back my clay pot when you’re finished.”
“Okay,” I say as he starts to grab his plate.
“I’ll do the dishes, since you made the meal.”
“Oh, thanks.” He grabs his backpack off the chair.
I hop up, and we head for the door. “Keep me posted if you hear anything from Roth,” I tell him, mostly because I don’t know how to make his exit less awkward.
“For sure. And you…keep me posted if…I guess if someone’s trying to kidnap me.”
Silence stretches between us.
Another fucking awkward moment, and he tugs at his beanie before heading on his way.
5
LEIF
I sit on a bench in the reception area of the Wyachet Police Department, scrolling through my phone. There’s a text from Mom, letting me know Grandma’s faring well through the chemo.
I wish I could update her and Dad about everything that’s going on, but I can imagine what that series of texts would look like:
Yeah, there’s a guy who claims he’s protecting me from a serial abductor.
Oh, and I made that guy dinner the other night.
At the police department now because a detective called yesterday.
Kyra’s doing fine, btw.
I obviously told them about the break-in last week. And about the cops coming over and the broken lock on the back door.
But I haven’t brought up Zane.