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I waited for a few minutes longer and then hopped off the stool.
I dumped the remainder of my soggy food into the garbage disposal and then rinsed my plate before hurrying up the stairs. I couldn’t call the cops and I couldn’t try to escape. That didn’t interfere with me finding out what happened to Chloe.
I felt like this was the first time I’d worn actual clothes in days. It was only a pair of terry cloth shorts and a tank-top, but that beat walking around in a robe.
The wardrobe Alaric had accumulated for me didn’t have a lot of things I would normally wear. If I were a rich socialite that wanted to dine at restaurants that charged top dollar for mediocre chicken fingers—maybe I would feel differently.
It was going on four in the afternoon, or early evening depending on the preference. I had taken a nap and taken the time to put my hair in two fish-tail braids. It was nearing two when I realized I was waiting around for Alaric to come home like a puppy that had been left in its cage too long.
He hadn’t called or text once. I felt both annoyed and indifferent about this. I’m sure he was an extremely busy man. With my being here he’d had to tweak his days around mine. Or he did. I guess now that I was staying…
Wait? What the hell was I thinking right now? I was getting ahead of myself. I walked the expanse of the hall down to where Meg’s room was. There was a small list of things to do inside my head and it had to be done before Alaric got back or Demitri popped up. I stopped right outside her door.
It still felt like I shouldn’t be going in here, but there was something I needed to check.
Twisting the knob, I peeked my head into the room and confirmed what I had already suspected. All her things were gone. Alaric had somehow discarded all the boxes and clothing I was here under the guise to sort through. It left Meg’s room more barren than before. It was the final nail in her coffin, so to speak. Alaric had removed every single trace of my sister from this house.
Feeling like an intruder peering into a stranger’s empty closet, I closed the door and took a step back. I turned and placed my back against the wall slowly sliding down it as I pulled up the search engine on my phone.
I typed in the name of the salon Chloe worked at and dialed the number listed.
“Mane and Nails, this is Krista.”
“Hi, is Chloe in today?”
“Uh, just a second.”
She put me on hold with a Bruno Mars song. Not a full three seconds later she clicked back on.
“Hi, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Yeah, we don’t have any stylists that go by that name.”
I shook my head as if the woman could see me. “No, that can’t be right. Chloe’s worked there for almost three years. She has red hair, a little curv--.”
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone like that here. Maybe she’s at a different salon? If you don’t have any luck and give us a callback, I can get you scheduled with--.”
I lowered the phone and ended the call. There wasn’t any other salon. Chloe didn’t work at a chain establishment. I contemplated calling my mom again, but she was the last person I wanted to deal with.
If not for her I most likely wouldn’t be in this position. I tapped the phone against my lips wondering what to do next. Having a light bulb moment, I typed in my home's address and clicked into the realtor information listed for it on one of those rent and buys sites. I read the list, the name at the very top had me closing my eyes for a minute.
The house was sold nearly three years ago today to an unknown source. I had a feeling I knew who the person was that bought it. I’d had the same landlord all this time and she never once mentioned she was selling her property. It belonged to her late husband. She wasn’t ever going to sell it.
I could chalk this up to the belief that money talks, but it wasn’t cash we were dealing with, it was Alaric.
I dropped my head back and shut my eyes. What the hell was going on? Where was Chloe?
How long had this master plan been in effect? I truly felt like my life was being controlled by everyone but me. I never asked the world for any favors, so why was it treating me as if I’d gotten something and was now paying my dues?
Could it be Alaric?
Hell, my mother? I hadn’t heard from her since I ended our call prematurely. Not a text or anything was highly unlike her. She’d gone from calling me every hour or two to washing her hands of me. I wouldn’t say this didn’t hurt, but she’d done it before.
