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I attempted a smile. “Honestly, I don’t want to interrupt you guys.”
“Look, I want you to stay,” Jonah said.
Bryce nodded. “Yeah, really, it’s okay.”
Since I didn’t want to go back in the bedroom by myself, I relented and sat down at the table, taking a tentative sip of my water.
Bryce rubbed his forehead. “My dad.”
Jonah tensed. Someone who didn’t know him might not have noticed, but his jawline and forearms became rigid.
“What about him?” Jonah asked.
“He’s missing. He went to the city on business three days ago. We didn’t think it was a huge deal. He called Mom each night, until last night. He didn’t call her. We haven’t heard from him.”
“Did you call his hotel?”
“Yeah. They don’t have any record of him staying there.”
Jonah visibly tensed again. He knew something. I had learned to read body language well as a therapist. There was something Jonah wasn’t saying.
Jonah cleared his throat, seemingly taking longer than usual to do so. “Have you called the police?”
“Yeah, this morning. But they haven’t been any help so far.”
“Well, he’s a grown man. There’s not likely much they can do.”
“But he’s the mayor, for God’s sake. No one’s seen him since Tuesday morning.”
I jolted in my seat. The mayor? I had seen him—or at least someone whom the person manning the cash register called “Mayor”—on Tuesday, in the late afternoon, buying duct tape and rope at the little hardware store in town. Right before I drove home. Right before…
I opened my mouth to speak, but decided against it. I’d let them talk for a few minutes. This really didn’t concern me.
“Mom is beside herself. She’s convinced someone took him. I’m not sure. Maybe he ran off with someone.” Bryce shook his head. “No, he couldn’t have. He’s never lied to her in his life, and he wouldn’t start now.”
More uneasiness from Jonah. It was thick in the room, and I wondered if Bryce sensed it. I certainly could.
“I’m sorry about what you and your mom are going through. But what do you think I can do?”
“I need you to help us find him, Joe. I know you guys have resources. Like those high-priced PIs who are working on your case.”
“High-priced is an understatement,” Jonah said.
“I don’t care what it costs.” Bryce pounded his fist on the table. “I need to find my dad. I
need to do it for my mom. And for my son. I want Henry to know his grandpa.”
And yet more ripples of stress from Jonah. He was squirming, and a few beads of sweat emerged at his hairline. I could almost see it in color—angry red radiating around him like a fiery aura.
What was going on? I opened my mouth again. “This really isn’t any of my business, but you said your father was the mayor?”
Bryce turned to look at me, his gaze serious. “Yeah.”
“I don’t know if this is relevant or not, but while I was here on Tuesday, I drove around Snow Creek for a little bit later that afternoon. I stopped in the hardware and office supply store, and there was an older man with silver-gray hair making a purchase. When he was done, the cashier called him ‘Mayor.’”
“What?” Bryce said. “That can’t be right. He drove to Grand Junction that morning.”
“I’m not saying it was him,” I said. “All I can tell you is that he was a man of average height with silver-gray hair, and the cashier, an older man named Gus, referred to him as ‘Mayor.’”
