AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shit.
I know I’m treading in dangerous territory here, but one thing I know for sure is that I can’t risk endangering Peter. If going to see Trevor is what’s needed to finally put this whole thing to rest, then I don’t see any other option. So I reply:
Okay. Send me the details.
Chapter Twenty
Peter
I left the office early because I just wasn’t feeling up to it.
My guys out in Stonybrook are due back after camping out there for days. Trevor never showed. The mechanic eventually moved the Mazda to his yard, where he apparently has a collection of abandoned vehicles.
It doesn’t make sense and it bothers me the whole drive home. Why would Trevor go that far out of his way to get his car to a repair shop, actually make the payment for said repairs, and then just forget about it? The only thing I can think of is that he had a back-up vehicle to get around in.
The car that clipped me in the hit and run the other day was an old Ford pickup. Witnesses saw it happen, but as far as getting a description on the driver or the registration of the vehicle goes, we came up empty. One of the street cameras on Dorchester caught the pickup speeding by, but the image quality was shit on a biscuit.
And with the backlog in the image rendering lab, we’ll be lucky to have it cleaned up before the end of the week. I gave them a call first thing this morning and tried throwing my ‘Chief of Police’ weight around in the hope of getting them to put a rush on it, but nobody’s going to prioritize a person of interest in a stalker case when there are actual murders to solve. As far as everyone else is concerned, any asshole could’ve forced me off the road. Of course, the text messages Emily has received say otherwise.
It’s all of this—dead-end after fucking dead-end—piled on top of the way Emily was with me last night; it’s got me feeling totally unsettled. I was in the office, but unable to focus on anything, not even the case.
Strangely enough, my mind has no problem putting all of its attention on the way Emily pulled away from me last night. Or how when we made love, it felt like she was waiting for it to be over.
The apartment is encased in an eerie silence when I get home. Usually there’s some soft music playing or the TV on.
“Emily?”
I duck my head into our bedroom, half expecting to find her lying on our bed with her nose in a book. But she isn’t there.
Part of me knew that, because I can sense that the apartment is empty. No signs of life aside from me. My footsteps sound awfully loud as I go through the place, checking each room in turn. I know I won’t find her, but I do it anyway.
I passed Ted on my way up and he didn’t mention anything to me about Emily being out. I know that she’s snuck out before, but I’ve always gotten a text or phone call about it so that at least someone knew what she was up to and where she was headed. I get that she feels frustrated and cooped up, so I grant her those flights of freedom when the feeling is just too strong.
But I didn’t get a phone call or text today. And Ted is blissfully unaware of her leaving. This knowledge sends my mind racing to all kinds of dark places as I finish up in the bathroom. This is so unlike her.
The kitchen is my last stop, and that’s where I find her note. Of course she’d leave it right next to the coffee machine and not somewhere like the bedside table or whatever. Emily knows my routine, and she knows that when I get home, my coffee is the first order of business.
I don’t know what to think when I pick it up to read it, but there’s a heavy sensation filling my chest, like I’m drowning.
Peter,
I gave Ted the slip. Don’t be mad.
Be home soon.
Emily XO
P.S. I left you the last brownie
I stare at her neat, printed handwriting for much longer than is necessary. It’s as if the words will multiply and give me more information.
They don’t.
I put the note down and start a fresh pot of coffee. Then I go over to the refrigerator. The brownie she promised is there, but I don’t take it. I don’t really have much of an appetite right now. I don’t even want the coffee.
It’s weird how strange the apartment feels without her in it. How empty and lonesome. And that in itself is weird, too. Because I’ve been alone my whole life and not once was I ever lonely. In fact, I used to love it.
But all that changed the minute Emily came into my life. Now I’m wandering around our apartment, not knowing what to do with myself. It’s embarrassing how much I’ve come to need her.
