Page 14 of Not a Word

“Your dad dropped by.”

“Shit,” Gage said.

Any other time, Diana might have called him on that kind of language. If there was ever a time to let something slide—

“I gotta go,” Gage said.

“Gage, wait, listen, why don’t—”

He was gone.

“Damn it,” Diana said aloud. I should have waited. Now he was out there, dealing with his grief alone, tears marring his vision as he rode that goddamn skateboard down busy streets.

Her phone rang.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not here.” Reece.

“Wait, what?”

“She didn’t wait for me. She’s gone.”

Diana’s mind raced. If she were Catherine, what would she do?

“I bet she went home. Didn’t want to wait for you.”

Reece considered that. “Maybe.”

“I got Gage.”

“He’s with you?”

“I got hold of him. On his cell.”

“But he doesn’t know yet—”

“I told him.”

“Over the phone?”

“I didn’t get into details, but I told him his grandfather was dead.”

“Over the phone?”

“You told me to let him know.” Her voice bristled, but she was also feeling defensive.

“No, look, I’m sorry. I’m just— I feel like my head’s gonna blow up. I’m going back. I’ll call if I know anything.”

From across the street, sitting in a coffee shop close to the window, Catherine Chartwell had watched her son arrive at Benjamin’s, run inside, then emerge a couple of minutes later. He had that exasperated look on his face she knew so well.

She’d ordered a tea as an excuse to hold the table while she decided what to do, but she would have liked something much stronger.

Reece was back in his car now, on the phone. Hers sat on the table and started to buzz. She hit the button on the side to mute it, watched as it rang several times before going to voicemail. She didn’t need to listen to it. She knew what the message would be.

Where are you? Why aren’t you here?

Because I’m not ready, she would have said. But that would have prompted even more questions from her son, so it was easier to not answer.