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"No."
The man squints his eyes. "That's odd because most thieves who break in mid-day do it because there's something valuable inside. They know that breaking the glass will set off the alarm, so if there's nothing useful, why do it?"
I shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. I—" I stop my sentence when I remember. "Crap, my phone. I left it in the car. And I'm certain it was on the passenger's seat."
"Okay, well, that would make sense," the officer says. "If they saw the device, which I'm guessing is the expensive kind, and they wanted easy money, they would risk it."
After taking my statement, we drive off. With most of the glass fragments lying on the passenger seat, Jeremy sits in the back. The noise produced by the air invading the car withholds us from conversing, and after dropping him off, I head home.
With my backagainst the elevator wall, I rub my fingers over the tight spot between my eyebrows, and when the doors open, I cover the distance to my apartment with determined steps. As I walk into my house, I call out, "Alisha?"
My head shoots to the right side of the living room, where I find a surprised Samantha and Amanda sitting on the couch watching television. Amanda's eyes travel to my side as if she's expecting someone to stand there.
"Where is Alisha?" I ask.
Both women exchange a glance with each other and laugh.
Amanda rises. "Hilarious, Cole," she says, walking to the front door. She opens it and inspects the hallway and shouts. "Come out, you sneaky girlfriend."
Sam stops next to me, and when Amanda turns back, the watchfulness in her eyes alarms me.
"Where is Alisha?" I repeat.
Amanda's eyes shoot to mine. "She's with you." She comes to a full stop before me. "Tell Alisha to come out. This isn't funny."
"She isn't with me, Amanda!"
"But you sent her a message, telling her you were alright, and that you wanted to talk things out at the diner across from the store."
"I didn't send a text."
"Yes, you did! I saw it myself," Amanda says, pointing her finger at my face. "The text she received came from your phone."
"I didn't send anything," I repeat, but as I say this, it hits me. "No! Shit. Call the fucking police, Amanda. I'm going to the diner right now."
Before I can walk out, Samantha's trembling voice calling out to me makes me stop. "Dad, what's going on?"
I travel back and grab my daughter's hands. "Someone broke into my car this afternoon, and they stole my phone."
"Who would…" Samantha stops her sentence and shakes her head. "Oh my god."
Amanda rushes to the table and scrambles through her purse to grab her cellphone.
"Go! Find Alisha, Cole. If you're right, she's in real danger. I'm going to call the police."
I plant a kiss on my daughter’s forehead, and, with my most reassuring voice, I say, "Don't worry, Sam. Everything will be fine, I promise. See you soon."
I turn and stride out of the apartment and rush back to my car.Please, Alex, be okay.After a wild ride, ignoring traffic signs, I pull up in front of the diner across from the store. I jump out, throw my jacket in the car, and with a mind ready to explode, I hurry inside.
"Can I help you, sir?" a server asks as she sees my wandering eyes scanning the seats.
"Yes, I'm looking for the woman who works across the street in that clothing store," I say, pointing through the window. "She has long blonde hair, green eyes, and—"
"Oh, you mean Alisha?"
"Yes. Have you seen her?"
The woman shakes her head. "Sorry, my shift started at four o'clock, and she hasn't walked in here. "
