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I bent down to take the article from him. He must have mistaken the move for a tug-of-war, because he flipped over fast as lightning and clamped down on the opposite end. “I’m not trying to play right now,” I scolded as he dropped low on his front legs, his ass end still high in the air, tail whipping back and forth as he let out a tiny little growl and shook his head.
“Knock it off, would you? I need to get back to work and you’re wasting time.” I finally yanked the piece of cloth free and held it up to inspect it. It looked like a sock. An old, ratty one with a hole in the heel and the elastic snapped from wear and age. “Where the hell did you get this?”
Tornado yipped in answer, and I shook my head before tossing the ruined sock back at him. It wasn’t any good to me, so he might as well get some enjoyment out of it before it inevitably wound up in the trash.
I started down the hall toward the bedroom where I’d left my phone and jerked to a stop when I stepped across the threshold and spotted the small black box in the middle of the bed. Suddenly the sock made a whole lot of sense.
I crossed the room and picked up the box, flipping it open to reveal the ring that, until that moment, I’d forgotten all about. My gut twisted and sank like a stone tossed into the ocean. There was only one person in this house who could have found that damn box.
Wynn must have gone rummaging for an old sock to keep Tornado entertained and stumbled upon it in the back of my drawer.
“Son of a bitch,” I hissed as I dragged a hand through my hair. I snapped the box closed and tossed it aside before snagging my phone off the bedside table. I found Wynn’s name in my contacts and hit the green button to call, bringing the phone to my ear. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as I listened to it ring before finally clicking over to voicemail.
“Damn it,” I snapped as I jabbed the button to disconnect. I tried her office line at work but got nothing.
A sudden burst of panic dumped into my bloodstream as I pulled up my text messages and quickly typed one off.
Me:Baby, is something going on? Why aren’t you answering my calls?
I stood immobile, staring at the screen and willing it to switch fromdeliveredtoread. When it didn’t I dialed another number.
The call connected on the second ring. “Jase Hyland.”
“Jase, hey. It’s Gage.”
“Oh, hey man. How’s Wynn doing?”
A record scratched in my brain. “What?”
“Is she okay? I think this morning was the first time she’s ever called in sick. Must be feeling like shit.”
“Oh, um, yeah.” I stumbled over my words as I began pacing the room. First I was frozen in place, now all of a sudden I couldn’t stand still. “She’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the call. “Was there something you needed?”
“Uh, you know what? I think I figured it out on my own. Sorry for wasting your time.”
I quickly hung up and called Wynn again. “Pick up,” I pleaded quietly. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”
“Hi, you’ve reached Wynn. Try texting next time and maybe I’ll get back to you.”
“Goddamn it!” I shouted as I ended the call.
Me:I just talked to Jase. I know you aren’t at work. Where are you, Bits. I’m starting to freak out.
That was the understatement of the fucking century. I was going out of my mind, and if I didn’t hear from her in the next two minutes I was getting in my truck and driving around every mile of this town until I found her.
I was just about to come out of my skin when my phone chimed with a message, giving me such a start it was a wonder I didn’t go into cardiac arrest.
Bits:I’m at Poppy’s. I think we need to talk.
Jesus, that couldn’t be good. No happy conversation ever started withwe need to talk. But I shoved my fear down and bolted out of the room, typing my response as I raced to my truck.
Me:I’m on my way.
* * *
I spottedher the second Poppy’s sprawling white house came into view. She was sitting on the porch swing, one leg curled beneath her as she used the opposite foot to slowly push the swing into motion.
