Tangling Hearts

145. Brendan

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Five

brENDAN

1 :11 p.m.

A knock at the door. “Brendan?” Mark’s familiar voice.

I rise up and unlock it. My eyes are bloodshot. Not that I know this. My body feels like it’s already dead. Mark and Nicole are standing there with coats over their arms, dressed in jeans and sweaters. I move to the side so they can come in. Nicole pauses as she passes me, letting me know with a look how sorry she is that this is happening. Their suitcases, small carry-ons, get stashed against a wall. They lay their coats over them, and glance at each other as they take in the tree, it’s lights dark now.

“I’ll make some food,” Nicole says quietly, glancing to me as I head for the couch. Mark walks over.

“You’re too tall to stand above me like that,” I mutter, falling into our old routine.

He gives a ghost of smile. He knows I’m just going through the motions. I clocked out hours ago. He sits on the ottoman and I wince at the memory of me and Annie just yesterday.

“Not there.”

He doesn’t ask why as he gets up and sits on the couch next to me. “Did you go to the police station?”

I nod. “Manny called. He’s alive. He’s grief stricken now. Kept saying it’s his fault. I called Taryn and Laura. Annie’s parents. Some people you don’t know who she’s met at work. All the people from my office who knew Tommy. The cops that worked on the case last time came in on their day off. It’s Christmas, you know.” I meet his eyes.

“What did they say?”

“Someone called with an anonymous tip two hours ago. Tommy’s father was discovered in his old house, tied up and beaten severely. It was Tommy, Mark. He’s on a rampage.” I stare at my best friend for answers.

His jaw tightens, the muscles in his neck clenching. “We know him…”

“We didn’t know he was a burglar for life.”

Mark talks over me. “Better than anyone. So let’s think where he could have gone.”

I put my head in my hands and rub my face. “Okay. His apartment is gone. He’s not at his old house. They searched it.”

“How about the neighborhood?” I blink yes. “What about his mom and cousin?”

“They can’t find them. I don’t know anything about his cousin. Did you ever meet the guy? I mean outside of the trial.”

Mark shakes his head. “Never. What about people at work?”

I make a noise, turning my body a little. “Our C.F.O. was having an affair with him. I already accused her of hiding him. She’s not.”

Nicole comes in with long strides and sets down two steaming cups of black coffee. She touches Marks shoulder as she leaves again. “Thanks, babe,” he says, glancing to her retreating form, his mind on the problem. “Drink up.”

Out of apathy, I obey. “You guys are doing well. I didn’t expect her to come with you.”

“She had plans with her girlfriends. We all did, but she canceled them without complaint. This is more important.”

“Thank you. I’m glad she’s here. When I get Annie back, she’ll want to see that ring.”

Mark’s lips flatten as he looks down at the cup in his hands. “What about Tammy?”

“Already knocked on her door. Some guy opened it. She walked out of the bedroom wearing his button-up shirt. Speaking of rings, he had one.” I take a sip of the bitter brew, licking my lips.

“Ah. Not much changes. Well, what about Rebecca?”

I look up at Mark, and set the coffee cup down. “Rebecca wouldn’t hide him.”

Mark blinks at the defensiveness in my voice. “Of course she wouldn’t. But has she heard from him? You know he had a thing for her.”

The tense knot in my chest grips harder and I reach for my phone. “She would have told me,” I mutter, dialing.

Mark says, “Maybe she doesn’t know he kidnapped your wife.”

“If she does know…Rebecca.”

“Brendan? I didn’t expect to hear from you, today. Is this about Tommy?”

I share a look with Mark, holding his eyes as I answer. “Yes. It is about Tommy. How’d you know that?”

She pauses. “I got a call from someone yesterday. They didn’t say anything, but when I said his name, whoever it was hung up fast.”

My heart starts to pound. “Did you call him back? Give me the number! Why didn’t you tell me this?”

Becoming defensive, she argues, “Well, we’re not talking anymore, Brendan! And I saw he escaped, on the news, but I knew he’d leave the country and be long gone. So what was the use in calling you? I mean, really, I don’t think your new wife would have been too happy to hear from me on Christmas Eve, do you?”

With my elbow on my knee and my forehead in my hand, I listen to this. “He’s got Annie. I think she would have been very happy to hear from you.”

Mark takes the phone from me. “Rebecca, this is Mark. Give me the number, please.” He grabs a pen and writes it down. “Yes, he kidnapped her last night. They didn’t know Tommy escaped. Yes, it’s horrible.” He pauses again. “No, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” He hands me the phone. “She demands to come here.”

I frown, yanking it from his hand. “You’re not coming over!”

“Brendan, I’m coming over. I can help,” she says with her usual authority.

With angry sarcasm, I ask, “How can you help?”

“Okay, look. I wasn’t a fan of having things end between us. That’s no secret. But I don’t want your wife hurt and you need to know something I’ve been keeping secret. I lied to you, Brendan. I slept with Tommy. When I said I wouldn’t see him? Well, I did.” She waits for a response and when I say nothing, continues in a softer voice. “Brendan, he might try to call me again.”

My overall distaste for her shifts, replaced by a bead of hope. “Come over. If he calls, I want to know about it. But I’m not happy you lied to me.”

“And I’m not happy you got married. We’re even. I’m on my way.” She hangs up.

I lay the phone down and Mark sticks the coffee cup back in my hand as Nicole returns with bacon, eggs and toast on a couple of plates. “She fucked Tommy,” I tell him. Meeting Nicole’s raised eyebrows, I explain. “That’s Rebecca. My ex. Sort of. She fucked Tommy and didn’t tell me. But she may be our only way to find him. She’s coming over.”

Nicole shares a look with Mark, surprised at the news. Her smooth voice has a calming effect on both of us. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that there are angels watching over us. I know that sounds silly or foofy, or whatever, but–”

I cut her off. “I’ll take whatever help I can get.”

Mark asks her, “Babe? Where’s yours?”

She smiles and touches his arm again, and heads back for the kitchen. “On another plate. I just couldn’t carry them all. Now eat. The eggs are getting cold.”

Out of politeness, I pick up the plate, and dig in. My body takes over, and somehow I eat it all. We eat in silence and it’s dismal. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “Alright, you guys go and put your things in your old room, Mark. Go rest. You must be tired from the plane ride. I’ll get the dishes; it’ll give me something to do. No, don’t argue,” I tell Nicole.

She smiles, her caramel-colored eyes filled with compassion.

She hangs their coats as Mark picks up both suitcases and heads for the spiral staircase. Watching them walk away, I feel pain in my chest throbbing again. They’re such a good fit, both tall, both serene in their countenance. The fact that they’re different ethnicities adds a strength to them, too. Like they’re ahead of the world’s curve somehow.

But seeing them here just makes me miss my wife.