He smiled and pulled out a barstool for me to sit down at the tiny island in his kitchen. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and words kept tumbling from my mouth.
“I saw your For Sale sign and remembered I should probably put the house across the street on the market.”
“I figured you were keeping it for your escape hatch,” he said.
“Escape hatch?”
“Yeah, for the next time you freak out about being married and having a baby on the way,” he said. “You’ve got commitment issues.”
“No I don’t,” I said, squenching my face in shock.
“That’s what you do,” Savage said. “You have a fight. You panic. You move to a new location. You have an existential crisis. You panic. You move to a new location. I figured you’d be back on the block eventually. I figure getting abandoned at the altar did more damage than you let on.”
“What are you, a psychologist now? I do not have commitment issues,” I said, feeling the heat flush my face. “You have commitment issues.” I knew it was a lame comeback, but he was putting doubt in my mind. Did I really have commitment issues?
“It’s not commitment issues if you don’t want to be committed,” he said.
“Aha!” I said, pointing a finger. “I knew that I would just be another notch in your bedpost. A…a one-night booty call. A bang buddy. A wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. I ain’t no hollaback girl.”
Savage was doubled over with laughter, holding his chest where he’d been shot, and tears were streaming out of his eyes.
“Lord, are you trying to kill me?” he asked. “I had a feeling you’d be the death of me.”
He was looking a little pale, and then I started to worry that maybe he was dying. “Maybe you should sit down,” I said, taking his arm and trying to haul him over to the recliner. That worked about as well as trying to move a semi.
“And just for the record,” he said. “I would’ve committed to you. I think you ruined me for all other women.” He grinned when I let go of his arm like I was touching something hot. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Of course not,” I said. I could’ve really used one of those candy bars hiding under the fruit. Savage must’ve read my mind because he flicked open his pocketknife and sliced right through the cellophane. I grabbed a Snickers and tore it open.
“We can still be friends, you know. It doesn’t have to be weird.”
I felt the tears prick my eyes and blinked them back, staring at the half-eaten candy bar. “It doesn’t have to be,” I said. “But it is. And I hate it. We had feelings for each other, no matter what kind of feelings they were. Friendship was part of that, but there were more intimate feelings for a time.” I sighed and finally found the courage to look him in the eyes. “So yeah, I went back and forth on whether or not to come see you at all.”
His eyes were dark and intense, and in them was understanding and something else…love. “I know you and Nick were both there in the hospital,” he said. “For days. My family told me. Thank you for that. Thank you both.”
My smile wobbled. “That’s what friends do. You’re a good man, Savage. And a good friend. You’re going to meet your match one day. I don’t doubt it. The women in Normal, South Dakota, won’t know what hit them.”
“Ha,” he said, his eyes squinting with laughter. “Normal is a town of just a couple thousand people. I wouldn’t bank on it.”
“I need to take off,” I said, crumpling the empty wrapper in my hand. “I’m working a missing persons case.”
He raised his brows at that. “I thought you were done with PI work? Who’s missing?”
“Vince Walker,” I said. “My mother’s husband. She thinks he ran off with another woman.”
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think I have unanswered questions that I need to get to the bottom of.”
Chapter Eight
By the time I left Savage’s house, I was behind schedule. Since I was in Savannah, I gave Kate a quick call.
“How do you feel about a trip to Miami?” I asked when she answered the phone.
“As long as it’s not thirty-eight degrees like it is here, I’m on board,” she said. “What’s in Miami?”
“Hopefully Vince,” I said. “I traced the number in his pocket to a man named Luis Vega. He’s married to Angelica.”
“Yikes,” Kate said. “That could get sticky. Domestics make me uncomfortable. That’s when people lose their minds and open fire. And we can’t cross state lines armed.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to an all-out gun fight,” I said, rolling my eyes. Kate always thought in extremes. She could really be a bummer at times. “Best-case scenario is we go, find Vince, and guilt his sorry behind back home. Worst case is that we find Angelica and get some information.”
“With anyone else, I’d agree with you,” Kate said.
“Are you at home or at the office?” I asked.
“I’m at home,” she said. “I’ll pack a bag and I can meet you if you want?”
“I’m headed your direction,” I said. “I’ve got to stop by Mom’s to look at a couple of things, and then I’ll swing by after and pick you up.”
I looked at the clock, knowing we’d be on a tight schedule if we were going to find Vince tonight. It was only an hour and a half flight from Savannah to Miami, and there were several flights to and from. It wouldn’t leave too much time to find the hotel and get settled before heading to find Angelica.
“Expect me around noon,” I said, calculating the time.
“10-4,” she said and hung up.
I’d just turned onto the highway when my phone started ringing again and Rosemarie’s picture popped up on the screen.
“Hello?” I said.
“Addison,” Rosemarie
