She frowned, realizing he may be right. “You would think I’d be good at it by now.”
He rubbed her shoulder, his hands warming her cool skin. “I don’t think you’re doing too bad of a job.”
“I just wish Todd were here.”
“If Todd were here, you would’ve never met Clay Nealson.”
“No, that’s true,” she said, “but if I’d never met Clay, Kyle wouldn’t be mad at me and my life wouldn’t be such a mess.”
“Don’t kid yourself, your life would still be a mess,” he teased, “just a different kind of mess. But for the record, I wish he were here too.”
“I know,” she said, throwing her leg over his casually. It had been months, years maybe, since she’d spent time like this with Frank. They both knew they were missing their counterpart. He should have been there. The three of them had just always worked together, their personalities fitting seamlessly. But since one corner of their triangle had disappeared, everything between her and Frank felt out of place. After all, it was Todd who had introduced them…of course the relationship would change without him there to hold them in place.
“Where do you think he is, Frank?” she sighed.
“Todd?” he asked, sounding shocked.
“Kyle,” she corrected.
“Oh,” he said softly, “I wish I knew. I’m sure he’s with a friend. They’re probably helping him hide from us.”
“Do you think he’s safe?”
“I hope so,” he answered honestly. “I think he’s going through a lot right now and he’s coping the best way he knows how.”
“I just want him home.”
“I know,” he said, continuing to rub her arm. Suddenly, she felt a vibration under her, causing her to jump. He sat up, laughing at her, and looked at his phone. “Oh, hey, I have to take this.” He slid his finger across the screen, disappearing out of the room before Peighton could see who was calling. She tried to listen, picking up the sound of his voice but no distinguishable words. Who in the world could be calling him so late? she wondered, thinking quickly it must be a woman.
Feeling out of place, she stood up, wondering if she were intruding. She didn’t want Frank to be cancelling any date because of her. She walked to the bedroom, sticking her head in the door. He was facing the bed, one hand cupping his neck as he spoke softly into the phone.
“I’m going to go,” she whispered softly, trying to get his attention. He turned to face her, shaking his head and holding up a finger.
Wait, he mouthed silently.
She shook her head, winking at him playfully. “I’m fine,” she whispered, walking out of the room quietly.
“I’m—I’m so sorry. I’m going to have to call you back,” she heard him say. His footsteps crept up behind her. She turned to face him.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go home. Honestly, Frank, I didn’t mean to intrude. Of course you have a life away from my crazy, messed up family. Don’t cancel your date because of me. Go out and have fun. I’m just going to go home and try to get some sleep.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “What date?”
“Oh, come on, you snuck away to answer that call. It’s obviously a woman. And that’s perfectly fine. You don’t owe me an explanation and you don’t have to babysit me. Go on.” She waved him away, tiptoeing backward toward the door.
He grabbed hold of her arm. “It wasn’t a woman, Peighton. It was…something I’ve been avoiding talking to you about. But we need to talk.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” she tried to joke. When he didn’t smile, her face fell. “What is it?”
“I’m…I’m leaving town.”
The news hit her like bricks slamming into her chest, stealing the wind out of her lungs. She inhaled deeply, touching her stomach. “You’re what?”
“I’m leaving. Moving.”
“What are you talking about? Where? Why? For how long?” The questions poured out of her, the room spinning.
“I’m heading to New Orleans. That call was from the manager of a nightclub I’ve been trying to get a contract through for years. They’re restructuring and looking for a new company to run their security. It’s…it’s good money. With Todd gone, most of my profit is coming from our larger areas: the Tampa office, Houston, and St. Louis. If we could break into New Orleans too it would be world changing for SecureHome. I never would’ve considered it before. But now, well…there’s nothing left for me here.”
She felt her chin begin to quiver, her knees feeling weak. “I’m going to miss you,” she said honestly.
He held out an arm, pulling her in for a hug. “You and me both, babe.”
She hugged him tightly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “What am I going to do without you? You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. The only uncle Kyle’s ever known.”
“This doesn’t change that. I’ll still be around. Just a plane ride away rather than a car now.”
“I know it’s the best thing for you, but the selfish part of me doesn’t care about that,” she said, pulling out of his hug. “I’m really going to miss you. When are you leaving?”
“Probably in a week or two, maybe a month. It’ll depend on what I find out from this guy.”
“You have to wait until Kyle’s home. You have to be the one to tell him. I just can’t do it.”
He paused. “I already told him.”
“You what?” she exclaimed. “What do you mean you already told him?”
“I told him it was a possibility last night.”
“That’s why he’s run away then,” she nearly screamed at him. “Didn’t you realize that?”
“What? No! He seemed fine with it when I told him.”
She sighed. “Frank, of course he seemed fine. He’s a teenage boy. He’s not going to tell you how he feels. He left because you’re leaving him just like his dad left him. I’m all he has left and he…he hates me.” She broke down, tears falling freely. He caught her just as her knees gave out underneath her, holding her tight. He rubbed her hair carefully.
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“He does.”
“And I’m not leaving him.”
“You are.”
He scooped her up, carrying her to the couch and laying her down. “He doesn’t hate you,” he repeated, wiping a tear from her cheek. He reached beside the couch, pulling out his laptop.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m finding Kyle so he can tell you how much he doesn’t hate you.”
“What are you talking about? You said I had to wait. Give him space.”
“He needs that, but you obviously can’t take it. He can be mad at me all he wants, but he’s not going to leave you like this.”
“Frank, don’t.”
He stopped, staring at her. “You don’t want to know where he is?”
She frowned, biting her lip. “It’s that simple?”
“I’m good at my job,” he said to her.
“Why didn’t you just check on him earlier? Before we called the police? If it was that easy, why wouldn’t we just track him down this way all along?”
“I did before I called you. His phone showed he was home. You said he wasn’t, so I assumed he’d left it there to throw us off the trail. Then you said you talked to him when you were out searching, so he must’ve gone back to get his phone.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I never said I was at home.”
“Huh?” he asked, typing again.
She grabbed his arm. “Frank, I never said I was home. I was at Clay’s house when you called. Has he been at home this whole time?” she asked, sitting up and staring at the computer screen.
Frank cursed under his breath. “You were at his place?”
“That’s an entirely different argument. Where is he now?” she asked, watching the flashing red dot on the screen.
“It looks like his phone is off right now. I don’t have a tower
signal in the last hour.”
“What does that mean?”
“He may have figured out that we were planning on tracking him.”
“He’s smart,” Peighton said proudly. “He would figure that out.”
Suddenly, Frank gasped. “Oh my god.”
“What is it?”
“Where’s your phone?” he demanded.
“On the counter. Why? What is it?” she asked.
“His last signal wasn’t from home,” he said adamantly, “but I know where it was from.”
“What? Where?”
He turned to face her, confusion filling his face. “He’s with Isabel.”
Twenty-Three
PEIGHTON
Peighton stood at Isabel’s front door. She had called her housekeeper eleven times on the drive over, but to no avail. Now, she knocked on the door for the third time.
“Isabel!” she shouted again. “Isabel, it’s Peighton!”
The door swung open. The little old woman stood before her, her face pale white, a green and blue flannel robe wrapped around her, her red hair sticking up in every direction.
“What? What is it?” she asked. “Is everythin’ all right?”
“Isabel, where’s Kyle?”
“How on earth should I know?” she asked. “Do you know what time it is?” She glanced at the giant wall clock behind her.
“Kyle’s missing, Isabel. We know he’s here,” Frank said.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, exasperated. “He most certainly isn’t here. Why would he be here?” She stepped back. “Come inside if you’re so convinced. We’re just letting moths in this way.”
They stepped into her house, allowing her to shut the door. “Izzy, his phone is here. We tracked him,” Peighton said firmly. “Now, if you’re trying to help him, we understand. I just want to know that he’s safe.”
“He’s not here, Ms. Peighton,” she said slowly, as if Peighton were a child incapable of understanding. “Just like I told you…he’s not. What good would it do me to lie? Of course I would help him if he’d come to me, but he didn’t. And why would he? I would’ve called you. He knows I would’ve.”
“Was he here? Before?”
“What? Do you think I’d have just forgotten to tell you that? It just conveniently slipped my mind? Kyle isn’t here and he hasn’t been here, m’dear. I don’t know what sort of fancy tracker you’ve got on him, but it’s broken. I wouldn’t lie to ya. Why don’t we call the police? Shouldn’t they be the ones hunting him down?”
“We’ve already called the police,” Peighton told her. “But then I spoke to Kyle. He’s safe but hiding. The police won’t help us if he’s not in danger.”
“But he’s a minor.”
“I know. That’s just what they said.”
“Well, then, if we know he’s safe and just acting out, we shouldn’t worry ourselves with it tonight. Now, if that’s all of the interrupting of my beauty sleep you’ll be doing tonight, I think I’ll just head off to bed.”
Peighton frowned. “Could we just look around?” she asked.
Isabel’s jaw dropped, outrage filling her face. “Oh, so you don’t trust me? You think I’m hiding wee Kyle out in my underwear drawer, do ya? Go right ahead.” She waved her arm toward the hallway. “Check anythin’ you’d like. Best check the oven too, dear, I may have baked him into a pie.”
“Izzy, I don’t mean to upset you—”
“Upset? Oh, no, dear, I’m well past upset. See, you’ve come into my home in the middle of the night, woken me up, accused me of harboring the boy I’ve practically raised for you and lying to your face about it. And now you want to go search my house like I’m some common criminal. Like I haven’t been a part of your home for twenty years now. But, of course, go right ahead and check all the crevices of my home, just in case this has all been some clever ruse. Twenty years of wasting my time all to kidnap your son who has about a foot and eighty pounds on me. Of course, dear, you’ve caught me,” she said hatefully, her face growing red.
“I’m sorry, Isabel,” Peighton said, though she couldn’t deny her curiosity. She fumbled down the hallway, Frank close behind her. “Kyle?” she called, listening for any signs of movement. She opened a few doors, looking into a bedroom, closet, and bathroom, but didn’t dare enter the rooms. They all seemed empty, no signs of a habitant. “Kyle?” she called one last time, her hope diminishing. When she realized Kyle wasn’t there, her embarrassment grew. She didn’t want to face Izzy, a woman she’d considered a friend for so long, after the way she’d acted tonight.
“I’m so sorry, Izzy. I feel terrible,” she said, walking back into the living room.
“Did you find the dead bodies?” Izzy asked her, anger still filling her voice.
“Please don’t be angry.”
“What about the weapons room? My secret chamber?” Her Scottish accent flared up the angrier she grew.
“Izzy, take it easy,” Frank interjected. “She’s just worried about Kyle. We all are.”
“And if you’d shown up here like civilized people, I would’ve had a chance to be worried too. But instead, we’ve reverted to the ways of our forefathers, coming in and demanding our way. Now, if that is all…I’d like to go back to bed. We can look for young Mr. Kyle in the morning.”
Though Peighton still wasn’t sure about leaving, she seemed to have no choice. She turned, walking toward the door.
“If it’s all the same to ya,” Izzy said, holding the door as they walked through it. “I won’t be coming in tomorrow.”
With that, she shut the door, leaving them standing in the dark.
Twenty-Four
CLAY, 2016
Beelzebub9677: Morning handsome
Nealson70: handsome? Lol good morning back at you
Beelzebub9677: did you catch the game last night?
Nealson70: Nah, the wife was sick again.
Beelzebub9677: Bummer
Nealson70: tell me about it
Beelzebub9677: Carolina lost
Nealson70: I heard…I call it rigged
Beelzebub9677: that’s cause you’re a sore loser
Nealson70: not a chance man
Beelzebub9677: when are we going to get to meet up?
Nealson70: you still haven’t told me where you’re from
Beelzebub9677: you haven’t told me either
Nealson70: yeah, well, internet safety and all. I am a cop
Beelzebub9677: let me meet you at work then. I love a man in uniform
Beelzebub9677: You there?
Nealson70: yeah I’m here
Beelzebub9677: you went quiet
Nealson70: I know
Beelzebub9677: I like talking to you
Nealson70: what’s your name?
Beelzebub9677: why do you want to know that?
Nealson70: I guess maybe I’m confused
Beelzebub9677: what’s there to be confused about?
Nealson70: it’s kind of embarrassing. I like talking to you but…I thought you were a dude. Lol.
Beelzebub9677: why would you think that? Haha
Nealson70: the chatroom we met on…it’s a sports club. I thought it was sort of a mens only type of thing
Beelzebub9677: so women can’t like sports, cowboy?
Nealson70: not saying that at all, just wasn’t expecting you to be a woman
Beelzebub9677: so, you were looking for a man?
Nealson70: not like that! Haha. Me and a few of my buddies hang out there to do fantasy leagues. Were always looking to add to our groups
Beelzebub9677: I see. So, me being a woman…is that a bad thing?
Nealson70: its just that im married. Happily. I don’t want to do anything wrong here
Beelzebub9677: she doesn’t have to know
Beelzebub9677: im good at keeping secrets
Beelzebub9677: you there?
Beelzebub9677: hello?
Beelzebub9677: Clay?
The following me
ssage was declined because your contact (Nealson70) could not be found online: Clay?
Please try again later.
Twenty-Five
ISABEL
Isabel shut the door behind her, resting her back against it and heaving a sigh. She turned, peering out the blinds and watching the taillights fade down the driveway. Once they were gone, she picked up the house phone sitting on the old wooden table and dialed his number.
It rang and rang with no answer. She sighed, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the kettle off the stove, filling it with water. She placed it on the burner, turning it on high and pacing around the kitchen. She hadn’t technically done anything wrong, she reminded herself. She was truly trying to do what she believed was best for the boy. She cared about Kyle more than anyone in her life, as much as if he were her own child.
Her phone rang loudly from the living room, causing her to startle. She rushed into the kitchen, her hands shaking as she picked up the receiver.
“Hello?” she whispered into the line.
“Izzy?” His voice told her he’d been asleep.
“Kyle, I’m sorry to wake you, sweetheart.”
“What is it, Iz?”
“Your mother was just here. It worked.”
“It did? What did you tell her?”
“Yes, they tracked your phone here. You were smart to leave it with me. I didn’t tell her anything. I made it seem like you hadn’t been here at all.”
“Did she believe you?” he asked.
“I think so,” she said honestly. “Maybe not completely, but I was convincing. I was on Broadway, you know,” she teased him.
“No, you weren’t,” he said in disbelief.
She laughed aloud. “Okay, you caught me. But I could’ve been.”
“How long ago did they leave?” he asked, changing the subject back to what mattered.
“Just a few moments ago, dear. I think she’s headed home. Did you make it there safely?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” he told her.
“You can’t stay long, sweet boy. She’s worried sick.”
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