“Sure, honey. Tells us he’s around here somewhere. Poor kid took a nap in a loft or built a fort someplace, and he’s gonna wake up and wonder what all the fuss was about.” Marco leaned over and patted Drew’s shoulder sympathetically, then nudged a plate of banana bread at him that some kind soul had dropped by earlier. “Eat, old man. You need fuel just like Hawk does.”
Drew wrinkled his nose, which was maybe the only time I’d ever seen him turn down a baked good since he enjoyed them as much as I did. “I’ll fuel up when Aiden gets home.” Hepushed himself up from the table and looked toward the pantry cupboard. “Do I have pretzels for Sunday Sundaes? I should get some?—”
“Marco’s right. You should eat,” I suggested, bringing him a cup of yerba maté when I brought Hawk his tea. “That way you can be alert and steady and ready to make sundaes when he’s home. Do you want banana bread? Or I could make you a sandwich?”
Drew grunted but sat back down and took a piece of the bread.
“Aiden’s not at the McMahons’ house.” Knox tossed his phone down on the kitchen table and scrubbed two hands through his thick hair so forcefully that his biceps strained against the fabric of his flannel shirt.
“Should we call Reed?” Marco asked. “Your brother’s got friends who are politicians, right? Maybe he knows an FBI agent, too.”
“Maybe,” Knox agreed unenthusiastically. “But let’s keep that in our pockets for now. Goodman, any luck getting the student contact list from the school principal? I’ve run through the list of classmates Webb could remember.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t get in touch with Ms. Oliver. She left town right after school for some family thing. But I got a hold of Luke Williams, Aiden’s teacher, a couple minutes ago, and he’s emailing me his class list. He also said he thinks we should ‘check with Aiden’s mom.’” I looked from him to Drew and then to Hawk. “Does she live around here?”
“Nah. She hasn’t been back in town for ages,” Drew said.
Knox winced and squeezed his eyes shut.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Drew’s eyes narrowed.
“She texted Webb a few days ago,” Knox admitted. “Thursday morning, I guess. She wanted to see Aiden, Webb said no. Repeatedly. But as far as I know, that was the end of it.”
“Good,” Hawk said with uncharacteristic venom in his soft voice. “She’s toxic sludge. And don’t get me started on her boyfriend.” He shuddered.
“No kidding. But why didn’t Webb tell the rest of us?” Drew demanded.
“Why didn’t I tell you what?” Webb demanded. He strode in the back door with Jack right behind him, bringing in the cold night air on their jackets.
“That Amanda’s back in town.” Hawk folded his arms over his chest.
Webb stopped short, and his eyes flew to Knox’s accusingly. “She’snot. And what’s she got to do with anything?”
“I brought her up,” I said. “Luke Williams suggested talking to Aiden’s mom?—”
Webb’s eyes flashed with anger. “Yeah? What the fuck does Aiden’s teacher know about it, Goodman? Amanda texted that she was passing through last week, I told her I didn’t want her here, she argued, I held firm, and she finally said ‘whatever.’ Last I heard, she was headed to Vegas for the weekend, okay?” he snapped.
“Yeah, okay.” I held up my hands in surrender.
Knox stood up from the table and moved to stand in front of me. “Webb, I know you’re in hell right now, but don’t yell at Goodman. He hasn’t done a damn thing but try to help.”
I bit my lip against a groan. It was nice of Knox to defend me, but I almost wished he wouldn’t. I’d been too consumed with worry to fully process my disappointment from our conversation in the orchard, and my brain still reacted to this unexpected behavior with, “Fuck. Yes. Hot. Grr.” when I knew it should be, “Oh. Nice. Friend. Kind.”
I’d heard all the words he’d said about us only being physically compatible and not all-the-other-ways compatible, and blah blah, so I was for sure not gonna throw myself at himanymore, but it was hard to really understand his position when he was so very much exactly what I was looking for.
Hot. Funny as heck. Smart. Occasionally really, exceptionally kind. And, it must be repeated even though this was the worst time for my traitorous brain to remind me…hot.
Webb blew out a breath and deflated. “Yeah. Sorry, Gage. That wasn’t about you.”
Jack clapped him on the shoulder from behind and gave me a small, distracted smile. “I’m sure Gage understands you’re not at your best right now.”
“Of course I do,” I said.
“Come on and sit down,” Jack said.
Webb let himself be guided to the table and pushed into a seat across from Hawk while Jack took the seat between him and Knox.
I brought Webb a mug of fresh coffee, and he looked up at me with a devastated expression. “I really am sorry, Gage. I just…” His normally stoic face crumpled, and his eyes went shiny. “I just don’t know where my boy could be. And it’s cold and dark out there. Rand says—that’s Sheriff Carver—he says they, ah…” He broke off with a shake of his head and stared down at the mug in his hands.
