I offered a smile that he didn’t return, then jogged across the street. On the elevator up and the walk down the hall, I pondered different things to say to this man. A perfect stranger who might or might not recognize the face I wore and the body I had claimed. Nothing seemed right. I’d just have to go with my gut.
The door wasn’t locked; I went inside with as much authority as seemed necessary. It was quiet. Three people sat in the living room. Aurora and Joseph were close together on the sofa. Frail as he was, Joseph sat forward on the cushions, shoulders back, an ancient bird of prey with just enough spunk left to attack anyone who dared threaten his charge. Aurora’s head snapped toward the door the moment I entered, her hands wrapped protectively over her swollen belly. She looked past me, seeking someone who wasn’t there, and frowned when she realized as much.
The third person sat in the upholstered chair next to the sofa. He stood up and turned toward me, hands planted on wide hips. He was short and rotund, middle-aged, with gray hair around the perimeter of his otherwise bald head. Wire glasses had slid to the tip of his bulbous nose, but he didn’t reposition them. Except for his eyes, he didn’t look a thing like Alex.
“About time one of you showed up,” the man said. He had the voice of a longtime smoker, rough like sandpaper and deep as a bass drum.
“I was at work,” I replied. He knew Chalice. Good. From his annoyed accusation, he also didn’t seem to like her much. “What do you want?”
He jacked his thumb at the plastic garbage bags decorating the far wall. “What the hell happened to your patio?”
“Accident.” No way was I telling him it was shattered by two Triad Hunters who’d tracked me down to this apartment only to get their asses handed to them by me and Alex. “What do you want?”
“To talk to my son. That’s why I drove down here.” He grabbed a cell phone from the coffee table and held it up. “He left his phone here, which is why he didn’t get my six different messages, so where the hell is he?”
Sink-or-swim time. “I don’t know.”
Eyebrows rose in twin gray arches. “You don’t know?”
“No, I don’t. I haven’t see him since the day before yesterday.”
“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?”
It definitely struck him as strange, if the confusion on his face was any indication. I strode across the living room and into the kitchen, hoping to exude the air that I belonged. Any hint of that morning’s start of breakfast was gone, cleaned up and put away. I rummaged in the fridge and selected a bottle of water.
The fridge door fell shut. Alex’s father stood on the opposite side of the counter, glaring at me. I jumped. He was a fast mover.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Yes, it’s strange,” I said, coming around to the other side of the counter. “Look, Mr. Forrester, I—”
“Christ almighty, woman, call me Leo.”
Apparently we’d had this conversation before. “Leo, I’ve tried calling the hospital, I even called some of his classmates. I wish I knew where he is, but I don’t.”
“Well, that’s just perfect.” Leo took three steps toward me. His sheer bulk was impressive, thick without being fat; I almost forgot he was half a head shorter than me. “I drove eighteen hours because he called and said he needed me to be here. Well, here I am, and I’ll be goddamned if he’s not.”
Alex had called him, asked him to come. Had to have been the day Chalice died. Shit, shit, shit. It didn’t sound like Alex and his dad were close or Alex probably would have spilled the story over the phone. Instead, he’d reached out to his father for support. And Leo had no idea why he’d been summoned.
“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say.
“Do you at least know why he called?” Leo asked. “He wouldn’t say, but it sounded serious. He hasn’t called me ‘Dad’ to my face since he was ten. I thought maybe something had happened to you, the way he sounded.”
Truer words were never spoken.
“To tell you the truth, I’ve been a little preoccupied. My finals didn’t go very well, there’s been some stuff going on at work. If Alex was upset about something, he didn’t tell me. Probably saw I had my own crap to deal with, so he left me alone.”
I saw his hand clench and arm jerk, and I stepped backward. He stopped, hand at waist level, not striking, but I knew the gesture. I’d seen men who hit out of anger. I’d seen men who hit out of spite. I didn’t know which kind he was, and I didn’t want to find out.
“I think you should leave,” I said.
He bristled, tensing like an angry bear woken too early. “I’m not leaving until I talk to my son.”
“He’s not fucking here.”
“So where the hell is he?”
“I don’t know.” My voice had risen, keeping match with his. I watched his hands, his face, anything, for signs of attack.
“Maybe, Chalice, if you hadn’t been such a selfish bitch and paid more attention to him, you’d know where the hell he was.”
My temper sparked. “Yeah? Well, where the hell have you been, Leo? He called you four days ago.”
His face scrunched, mouth puckering, cheeks flushed tomato red. “Don’t you judge me!”
“The way you’re judging me?”
I waited for an outburst, maybe even another jerk of his fist. He shocked me by sagging against the countertop, the wind knocked right out of his sails. His anger stayed, tempered by fatigue and outright concern.
“We’re all we’ve got, Chalice,” Leo said. “Alex and me, you know that. He’s my boy. I just want to talk to him.”
So did I, more than I’d realized. To apologize for killing him. To find some absolution for my part in such a horrific fate. Tears pricked my eyes. “I know. I love him, too.”
He removed his glasses and pinched his nose, squeezed both eyes shut and rubbed. The man who put his glasses back on and looked at me was calmer, a little sad, nothing like the man I’d just spoken to sixty seconds before. “Did you at least report him as a missing person?” he asked.
My stomach flipped. “Not yet. I guess I kept hoping he’d turn up.”
“Don’t you think it’s time?”
Calling wouldn’t do Alex any good, but it was something I could do for Leo. A gesture for a grieving father, who would find out soon enough that his son was never coming home. I crossed the living room to the small table near my bedroom door. Plucked the telephone handset from its cradle. Dialed.
“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” the stern operator asked.
I swallowed. “I’d like to report a missing person.”
I sat on the cushions next to Aurora. She and Joseph had remained silent during my argument with Leo and subsequent phone call. Both had adopted the sharp, attentive look Phin had possessed during our interrogation of Tattoo. The look of a vigilant hunter.
“Phin’s outside with the car,” I said quietly. “He’s fine.”
“You’re not staying?” Joseph asked.
“I can’t.”
“We’re no longer safe here.”
I glanced at the closed door to Alex’s bedroom. Leo had gone inside a minute ago. Quietly, resigned, when I had expected door slamming. “Leo won’t hurt you guys,” I said.
“He’s so angry,” Aurora said, fear in her songbird voice.
“At me, I think. And definitely at himself. Just try to stay out of each other’s way, and it’ll be fine.”
“I hope Phineas was right to trust you,” Joseph said.
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, he does, and you’d be smart to start. I have to go, but I’ll try and check back tonight. We have some promising leads to pursue.”
“I trust you,” Aurora said. “No one can predict our futures, but I trust ours to your care.” She gasped and clutched her lower belly. My heart nearly stopped, calming only when she smiled. “She’s active tonight, Evangeline.
