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Crap. Now what? I call Samuel and leave a message for him, asking if Jess has been admitted to the hospital, and then I call Lucas.
He answers immediately. “What do you need?” It sounds like he’s grabbing his keys and heading to the garage.
“I need a ride to Rose’s to pick up Butterscotch. And if you happen to have a crystal ball that can tell me where Jess vanished to, that would be great.” I figure Simone has filled him in on the situation. I don’t need to explain it to him.
“I can do the first request. Sorry, fresh out of crystal balls. But if you want, after we get Butterscotch, we can drive around Maple Ridge and see if we can locate your truck and Jess.”
“Thanks.”
While I wait for him, I text and phone Jess again. “Where the hell are you, Jess?” I mutter.
I go back to pacing, not caring I’m supposed to be resting. I’ll rest as soon as I find her.
A flash of lightning streaks across the sky. A resounding boom follows it.
For the first year after Lucas was honorably discharged from the Marines, thunderstorms would trigger his flashbacks. He’s not the only vet I know who suffered from thunderstorm-induced flashbacks.
Jess has never mentioned having issues with storms. But there are a lot of things about her past she hasn’t admitted to.
Lucas picks me up and we drive to Rose’s house.
“You gonna let me be your PT once your physician gives you the green light?” he asks.
I smirk. “That depends. Just how over the part where I accidentally drove over your bike in high school are you?”
He laughs, the sound not quite a low chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’ve moved on. I won’t be taking out the loss of my favorite bike on your shoulder.”
My smirk widens into a full grin. “Phew. That’s a relief.” The smile falls away. “Yes, you get to be my PT. I don’t trust anyone else with my shoulder.”
“You do realize everyone who works in the clinic is a skilled PT, right? They’re some of the best around.”
“I know, but you’re my brother, and you know my revenge will be swift if you fuck up my shoulder.” I toss him another grin, even though my shoulder is aching.
His laugh this time is loud and abrupt. “Fair enough.”
Lucas parks his SUV in front of Rose’s house, and we both go to the front door. I ring the doorbell, and a second later, Butterscotch’s bark is heard from the other side.
Rose opens the door and lets Lucas and I in. The smell of fresh-baked gingersnap cookies greets us. We both kiss her cheek, and Lucas hugs her. I manage to give her an awkward one-armed hug. She might not be our biological grandmother, but she’s always been like a grandmother to us.
“What happened to your arm, Troy?” She stares at the arm in question. I give her the abridged version.
Butterscotch peers up at me, his round dark eyes hopeful. I kneel by his side and fuss over him. “I heard your little buddy was sick.” He gives me an answering bark. Christ, if anything happens to Bailey, it could set back Jess’s recovery. If I can find her, that is. “I don’t suppose you know where Jess is?” Another bark, which does nothing to solve the mystery of her disappearance. I straighten. “You have no idea where Jess could’ve gone?” I ask Rose.
“Sorry. No. She told me what happened to Bailey and asked me to look after Butterscotch for a few hours because there was something she needed to do. But then she never came back. I tried calling her, but she hasn’t answered the phone or returned my call.”
It’s not like Jess to not respond to texts and calls. The only time she couldn’t quickly respond to them was when she was working at Picnic & Treats or at yoga. She’s never gone this long without responding.
Something’s definitely wrong.
But unless I know the sequence of events leading up to her disappearance, it will be next to impossible to figure out where she is.
Lucas, Butterscotch, and I return to Lucas’s SUV. “Do we report her missing to the police?” he asks, but judging from his expression, he thinks that’s a waste of time. He doesn’t have much faith in the Maple Ridge Police Department after they arrested him last year for the possession of narcotics with the intent to sell. Narcotics he had nothing to do with. And the police did little to find out who was responsible for the fake tip or how the drugs ended up in his house.
“Noah suggested that. But we have no proof she’s missing. For all we know, she isn’t answering her texts because she’s driving back from Eugene after going shopping there.” She didn’t say she was going shopping in the city, but since she doesn’t own a vehicle, why not make the most of my truck? “There’s no indication her disappearance is an emergency.”
The police won’t care about my gut feeling.
My phone rings, and I answer it. “Is she there?” I ask Samuel, the question tumbling out before I have a chance to catch my breath.
