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“Yes.”
“Do you know his whereabouts now?”
“No, he didn’t tell me anything.”
After a bit more scribbling, he hands me a business card. “Call if you hear from him.”
I’m surprised that’s all there is to it, but they leave without any further questions. Alden told me to tell the truth, but I saw no reason to argue over his identity with three street cops who aren’t going to have any say over the case or charges. I’ll save that for the detectives that I know won’t be far behind.
It’s well past one o’clock in the morning when I crawl into bed. All I can think about is Den. Wherever he is, I hope he’s safe. His face is going to be everywhere. Hiding at a hotel isn’t going to be an option. Is he even still in the state?
All those comments online discussing whether I ran away with him. Maybe I should have. At least then he wouldn’t be out there alone, and I wouldn’t be lying here wondering if I’ll ever get to see him again. Alden never would’ve agreed. He waited years for us to get together because he didn’t want me affected by his illegal activities. I wonder if one of his old criminal associates or biker friends is helping him now. I hope he has someone.
Being alone and afraid is the worst.
* * *
I’m up early the next day after a fitful night of thin sleep. The first thing I do is check my phone to see if Lowell has called. There are no missed calls or texts. I’ll give him until lunchtime before I contact him to see if he’s arranged things with the dental office. In the meantime, I can’t bear to sit here and worry.
The sun is out and blinding when it reflects off the snow. It should melt the snow quite a bit today. After forcing myself to eat some oatmeal and fruit, I shovel out the edge of the driveway that’s been piled up by a plow. My car should be able to get through the rest. I’m not sure if shoveling snow is safe to do in early pregnancy or not, and I’m not going to do any more than I have to.
A squad car sits a few houses down. Of course they’re watching. Whatever. He’s not going to come back here until he can prove his innocence. Once I turn from my street, I keep an eye on my rearview mirror to see if they follow me. It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t lead them to him if I wanted to. As far as I can tell, they aren’t tailing me.
There’s nowhere I have to be. They won’t need me at Stokes Brothers but I’m going there anyway. Anything is better than sitting at home waiting on the phone to ring. I stop at the drive-thru of the coffee shop to grab donuts and coffee for the guys. When I show up, Smith looks up from the front counter and gives me a cautious smile. The reluctance in it hurts. Milo said he was struggling to believe Alden, and he doesn’t know how I’m going to react to that.
Smith has always been a good friend to me. He was someone I could talk to, especially when I was grieving. He doesn’t know the details of what’s happened, and I can’t be pissed that he’s having trouble wrapping his head around it. My initial reaction was to scream in Alden’s face never to tell me that again. I understand.
I set the drink holder and box of donuts on the counter, then walk over to hug him. He instantly hugs me back and asks, “How are you doing?”
“Good. Considering everything. How are things here?”
“Same old shit. Joanna and Hudson both called off work today, but we really didn’t need them anyway.”
“Why did they call off? Because of the news report or…”
“No,” Milo answers, walking in. “They’re snowed in up north.”
Smith looks up with a smirk. “Together?”
“Well.” Milo scoops up the coffee I got him and opens the box of donuts. “They called separately to leave a voicemail. Apparently, Joanna is stranded at her mom’s and Hudson is buried in snow at his friend’s house. It might’ve been more believable if the same dog wasn’t barking in the background of both messages.”
Smith chuckles, shaking his head.
“You know she’s the one who wants to keep that quiet,” I laugh.
“No shit,” Milo says. “Hudson would scream it from the roof.”
We spend a few minutes talking about anything but Alden and the situation he’s in. The situation we’re all in as well when it comes to dealing with the backlash and a police presence. Smith excuses himself to get some work done, and Milo asks me to walk out to his truck with him. It’s a strange request, but I follow him outside into the sunny cold.
We get into his truck, and he starts it up, blasting the heat. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but cops have crawled over the shop twice now. They could’ve left a listening device. You shouldn’t say anything you don’t want them to know at your place either, just in case.”
“Yeah, they’re parked down the street from me too. Did Alden tell you something?”
He tilts his head a little to look at me. “I just wanted to tell you he’s safe.”
“He got in touch with you? Do you have a way to contact him?”
His expression is impassive as he stares at me with kind eyes.
