Линвуд Баркли - Find You First

“No way,” she said.

Miles, feeling weary, plopped down on the bare mattress.

“Nothing?” he said.

“Not so much as a sock with a hole in it.” Chloe sat down on the bed beside him, ran her hand across the surface of the mattress. “There’s not even any sheets here. What do you make of that ?”

“Looks like he’s cleared out.”

Chloe glared at him. “You think?” She slowly shook her head. “So, okay, let’s say you’re right, and he decides to take off. What’s with how clean the place is? Why would he leave without telling me? None of this makes any sense.” Then she looked at him, sharply. “Unless...”

“Unless what?”

She hesitated, as though weighing how much to tell Miles. “I think Todd’s into something he shouldn’t be.”

“Like what?”

“Conning old people,” she said. “I tried to ask him about it, but he just clammed up. Like, some kind of phone scam, where you call people in retirement homes and try to trick them into buying something or giving you their money. Something like that.”

“The computer virus scam.”

“The what?”

“Just one of many. You call someone up, say that you’re from Microsoft or Apple and say you’ve detected a virus on their computer but you can send a fix. All they have to do is provide a credit card number or send some money to Western Union.”

“I can’t believe people do that. Take advantage of oldsters. I’m gonna kick Todd’s ass if I find out he’s really pulling that kind of shit.”

“If you can find him.”

“Yeah, if I... did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Shush,” she said, putting her index finger to her lips. “I thought I heard something. Like, in the wall or the floor.”

“I didn’t hear any—”

“Just shut up for a second.”

Miles shut up. For several seconds, neither of them breathed. Finally, Chloe exhaled.

“Maybe it was a mouse or something,” she said.

“Can I talk now?”

“Sure.”

“You mentioned Todd’s mom?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a way to get in touch with her?”

“Right there,” she said, pointing to the cell in Miles’s hand.

“Told you. It’s password or thumbprint protected.”

“You’re the tech guy. Can’t you get into it?”

“I’ve got some people at the office who might be able to. But maybe we could just look her up online, find an address. Maybe she knows where he’s gone.”

“I guess. I don’t know why—”

She was interrupted by the sound of brakes squealing, tires ripping across pavement, like a driver in panic trying to avoid a crash.

“What the hell was that?” Miles said.

“Up on the road,” she said.

Charise, so far as they still knew, remained parked at the end of the driveway.

“Let’s go, Chloe,” Miles said, springing to his feet, leaving Todd’s phone on the mattress. They went out the back door, steps from the bedroom. Once on the ground, they both ran past the Pacer for the main road, but Chloe instantly had the lead. Miles felt resistance in his legs, like they didn’t want to do what was being asked of them.

But he soon caught up to her at the roadside, where he found Charise and Chloe helping a woman out of a van that had veered off partway into the ditch about twenty yards behind the parked limo.

“I nearly hit it!” the woman screamed, sliding out from behind the wheel.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Charise asked her as she went around to the front of the van, leaving the driver’s door open, to see how far she was into the ditch.

“Nearly hit what?” Chloe asked.

“You didn’t see it?” the woman said. “A goddamn deer!”

“A deer?” Miles said, catching his breath.

“Thing came out of nowhere!” the woman said. “Came shooting across the road, went running into the woods there!” She pointed. “I came this close to hitting the son of a bitch!” She held up a hand, spacing her thumb and index finger an inch apart. She looked at Charise. “You must have seen it.”

Charise shook her head. “Was looking in the rearview when I heard you hit the brakes. You nearly plowed into the back of me. Nice maneuvering. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

The woman looked down and noticed, seemingly for the first time, that the front of her blouse and pants were wet. “Yikes, that smarts,” she said, as two empty paper cups rolled out of the open van door, dropped onto the shoulder, and were swept under the vehicle by the wind. “That coffee was fuckin’ hot when it hit me and now it’s gettin’ cold.”

She ran her hands across the front of her clothes, as if she could somehow brush the spilled coffee away.

“Where you headed?” Miles asked.

The woman eyed him for the first time, blinked, and said, “Driving to Rochester to see my sister.”

“You’ve still got your back wheels on the gravel there,” Charise said. “I’m betting, you take it slow, you can back out without needing a tow.”

“Let’s give it a whirl,” she said, getting back into the van. She put it in reverse, feathered the gas so as not to send the back wheels into a spin, and slowly pulled the van back onto level ground.

“Nicely done,” Charise said.

Through the open driver’s window, the woman said, “Sorry for all the commotion. You see that deer, give it a piece of my mind.”

She steered the van back on the pavement and drove off. Charise kept watching it until it disappeared.

“Huh,” Charise said.

“What?” Miles said.

“Nothing, sir.” She paused. “Will you be wanting a drive back soon, Mr. Cookson?”

“Not sure,” he said, and glanced at Chloe.

She shrugged. “I guess you might as well. I can try to get in touch with Todd’s mom, let you know what I find out.”

“Let me go back and get his phone,” Miles said. “Might have someone who could break into it.”

He and Chloe walked back down the driveway and mounted the cinder block steps to the front door again. Together, they walked to the bedroom at the back of the mobile home.

Miles stared at the bare mattress.

“Where is it?” he said.

“The phone?” Chloe said.

“I left it right there.”

“Maybe it slid off. We kind of took off in a hurry. It could’ve fallen onto the floor.”

Chloe dropped to her knees and looked under the bed.

“Nothing here,” she said, and got to her feet again. “You sure you didn’t have it in your hand?”

He shook his head adamantly. “No, I mean yes, I’m sure. Hang on.” He patted his pockets, wondering whether he’d slipped the phone into one of them without thinking. But he came up with nothing. “No, I left it on the bed. I’m certain.”

Chloe said, “Maybe you had it in your hand and dropped it when we ran to the road.”

“No,” he said with certainty. “No. I left it right here .”

“Well,” Chloe said, “it didn’t sprout legs and walk out of here on its own, unless you’ve designed an app which does that .”

Miles felt a sense of uneasiness wash over him. “Maybe it was your mouse,” he said.

Chloe eyed him skeptically, shook her head. “It has to be somewhere .”

She got down on her knees again to take a second look under the bed. “I’m telling you, it’s not here.”

Miles’s own cell phone rang. He took it from his pocket, looked at the screen.

“It’s Charise,” he said. “Yes, Charise?”

“Mr. Cookson, something doesn’t feel right. It’s probably nothing. But you know, I never saw any deer.”

“Okay.”

“That woman. Said she was driving to Rochester to see her sister.”