“Mat’s a friend of mine.”
“Oh yeah? Do you know his real name?” Ben demanded.
“Sure. Name, address, phone number. I can even tell you what kind of car he drives.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?” I demanded with a swell of anger and stepped toward him.
He took a step back but didn’t bolt.
Then, for the second time this evening, someone looked at me like I had just displayed an utter lack of intelligence by asking the stupidest of all known questions.
He shook his head and replied, “Because my Mistress didn’t give me permission to speak until just now.”
Ben looked at him then over to me. “I’m gonna be needin’ my phone back, Row.”
CHAPTER 32:
“Yeah, first name Brad, last name Lewis, L-E-W-I-S,” Ben said into the cell phone as he urged the van along Highway 40 and back across the Poplar Street Bridge into Missouri. “Uh-huh… Yeah, according to the witness it’s a white Ford Focus… No, don’t know the plates, but his address is…”
I tuned out the rest of what he was saying. I had already heard it all once out of the young man from the club, and it had etched itself into my memory as he spoke each word. I doubted I would be forgetting it anytime soon.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason for tuning my friend out. I was having a hard time dealing with the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, releasing the hounds on my wife. While I understood that reporting the information was something he simply had no choice but to do, it didn’t make me feel any better about pointing the manhunt in Felicity’s direction.
I suppose there was still one saving grace, however, and that was the fact that the handful of data Ben was handing over probably wasn’t going to get anyone else any closer to finding her than we were.
Not that we were particularly close.
I just knew that I needed to find her first. Unfortunately, I was beginning to realize that this need was as much for my peace of mind as for her safety. A nagging doubt had crept into my thoughts, and it was treating my fear like a buffet line, feeding on it in a near frenzy. I was trying very hard to ignore it because the feeling it produced in the pit of my stomach made me want to vomit.
Still, even if I discounted the growing incertitude, I knew that I needed to be at the head of the pack no matter what.
The thing was, right now it wasn’t looking like I was going to make it. That fact, in and of itself, was bringing its own churn to my insides.
My emotions had been running hot and cold all evening as it was-bouncing up and down the scale with each passing moment. I simply wasn’t used to this roller coaster. Given the circumstances, I figured I should be completely on edge right now, but that just wasn’t the case.
Granted, I had started out with anger when the young man finally admitted to knowing the details about the individual with whom my wife had left the club. In fact, Ben had actually ended up needing to step between us as I started after him in a sudden rage. I don’t think the beating I intended to inflict would have been the kind he was looking for either.
But, that infuriation was all too brief, and it had quickly morphed through to quiet frustration. Following that equally hasty encounter, I slipped into a moment of something close to elation before finally sweeping right back past anger and falling directly into the cold arms of depression. In the end, the entire course of emotions took less than five minutes to complete.
Now, as we cruised over the PSB, I found that I was still firmly planted in that state of melancholy. I knew that part of it came from the conscious knowledge of how futile our search had become. It seemed that we were falling further behind at every turn, and I’m sure that went a long way toward setting my current mood. And, of course, the bizarre tingle in the back of my head wasn’t helping either. But, I also knew that the relentless doubt that had so recently set up residence in my thoughts was the worst of the trio of culprits. Even when things came in threes, there had to be a leader.
At the moment I was sitting slumped down in the passenger seat, gazing out the windshield with an unfocused stare. The darkness beyond the glass had morphed into a surreal landscape as we drove, and I was simply allowing myself to melt into it.
I watched wordlessly as the reflection of the Saint Louis skyline rippled in the dark waters of the Mississippi River, shortening to an abstract flicker of light as we advanced across the bridge. Ben merged to the left and continued along the highway, bypassing downtown as he pressed on toward the county.
I remained mesmerized, as yellowish-white pinpoints of light continued appearing in the distance, growing larger, then streaking past us on the left. Dusky red flickers brightened and dimmed with their out of sync rhythms on the right. Setting the pace and bisecting it all was the on-again off-again flutter of the lane markers as they came and went all at once.
On one level I knew exactly what I was seeing, but on another the familiar sights had taken on a whole new meaning. My head ached, and my brain simply didn’t seem to be interested in processing reality any longer. It had become too harsh, and my subconscious was frantically seeking an escape. Turning the visual sensory input into a hypnotic kaleidoscope for its own entertainment was apparently the path of least resistance.
Given the alternative, I didn’t know that I really minded a bit. In fact, I was seriously considering allowing myself to succumb to it in total when my friend decided it would be a good time to interrupt.
“Hey, Row…” Ben’s voice joined a sharp jab against my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I said, reluctantly surfacing from the trancelike stare.
“You gonna answer your phone?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your phone,” he repeated with a mild urgency. “Answer it.”
I took in a deep breath and forced my grey matter to wrap around the sentence and mull it over. It seemed like several minutes passed before the words fully registered, but apparently, time wasn’t flowing in quite the same fashion for me as for the rest of the world. When I reached into my pocket and withdrew my cell phone, it was just starting into another cycle of its warbling ring tone, and that told me that only a few seconds could have actually elapsed.
My brain objected, but still it followed orders and started shifting into a higher gear, so I held the device up to my face and inspected the backlit LCD. Even with the minor fog that lingered over my cognitive abilities, however, I recognized the number instantly. My only comment was a heavy sigh before shoving the device back into my pocket.
“Who is it?” Ben asked.
“It’s my father-in-law,” I replied flatly.
“Aren’t ya’ gonna answer it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not in the mood for it right now.”
“You should answer it,” he urged.
“He’s already left a voice mail. He can leave another one.”
“You mean he called before? When?”
“While you were still talking to the kid back at the club.”
“That why you disappeared?”
“No,” I replied. “I disappeared because I didn’t think I could handle hearing any more.”
“About what she…”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he echoed then after a moment he added, “Ya’know, your father-in-law might be callin’ about
