CHAPTER 70
We walked into the “jail cell,” and Ash and Emelia were no longer stooped over papers; they were sitting happily at the desk, laughing together. I didn’t know them that well, but, in the short time I had, I could see what a great couple they were. It was obvious how perfect they were for each other, how in love they were.
“Hey,” Mike called out, when we walked inside. “Did you find anything?”
“Did you find Petra?” Ash asked.
He nodded.
“Was she looking for her son again?”
I walked up to where they were sitting. “It was so sad. She went to her old house—we found her in her son’s old bedroom. Surely someone can do something about this?” I said.
“God, that’s so awful,” Ash said. “Imagine getting to a place like that, where you can’t remember who and where you are, and missing someone so badly that you—” She stopped talking and looked at Mike. “Wait. She went to her old house, as in . . . ?”
“Yup.” Mike sat down at the table and I followed suit.
“Did you see her?” Ash asked, sitting up straight.
“I did,” he replied flatly. “She said I must tell you guys congrats on the engagement.”
“What a bitch!” Ash said, and Emelia nodded in agreement.
“She seemed genuine,” Mike mumbled.
“Oh, please! A genuine thing hasn’t come out of that woman’s mouth in, like . . . forever.” Ash was getting really worked up now, just like Mike had mentioned. “Do you know what she did to him?” Ash looked at me and I nodded. “Broke up with him—twice!” Ash shook her head, and I couldn’t help the smile that flashed over my face. She looked at me, shocked. “You think that’s funny?” she asked.
“NO! No. Not at all.” I waved my hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I smiled because I just think it’s so nice, how upset you’re getting on your brother’s behalf. It’s sweet to see, that’s all.”
Ash’s face softened. “No one must fuck with my little brother,” she declared, and then wrapped her arm around his shoulder.
“She put play dough down someone’s pants in kindergarten because they teased me,” Mike said, with a smile.
“I can’t imagine you being teased,” I said.
“Uh . . . You know how the doctor said that he couldn’t tell whether Mike was a boy because he was so—” she inflated her cheeks—“chubby?”
“Yes?” I smiled.
“Well, he was. For a while, anyway, and then it all turned to pure, hard muscle.” She poked her brother on the arm and they both laughed. If there was a prize for the best siblings in the world, these two should get it.
“He was so cute, though,” Ash said.
“You should show her the photos!” Emelia piped up.
“No. Please. No photos.” Mike hung his head a little.
“I’d love to see photos,” I said, feeling like I was part of the group now.
“So . . . what did you guys find, while we were out?” Mike changing the subject.
“Well, do we have some good news or what,” Emelia declared, pushing a piece of paper in front of us.
Mike pulled it towards himself and started reading. “Eugene Abrahams?”
“I think Abe was a nickname, and actually it’s short for Abrahams, his surname.”
“How do you know?” Mike asked.
