Chapter 2 Reid #2
“With the sleuths,” West confirmed. My entire family was well aware of my hobby.
I didn’t care. I wasn’t ashamed of it. Besides, it would be hard to hide after we’d received national recognition for breaking a cold case last year.
We’d started a blog and everything. Aside from working remotely in IT—something I didn’t particularly love, but which paid well and didn’t ask too much of me—and spending time with my family, internet sleuthing was basically the only activity I took part in.
Despite my mother’s relentless attempts at getting me into pickleball.
“We’ve hit a bit of a dead end on the case we’re working now,” I said.
“They’re cold for a reason,” Ruby said. “I wish you wouldn’t spend so much time on them.”
I didn’t bother arguing with her. Almost everyone in my family had said that to me at one point or another. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just accept it; if I joined an adult rec league and started swinging a bat at a ball a few times a week, would that somehow be a more legitimate hobby?
“Ugh, finally. I’m starving.” My youngest sister, Regan, waltzed into the room and snatched the large container from my hands before lifting the lid and sniffing the contents.
She’d moved home last summer after graduating college.
Apparently it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park to land a stable job that paid well enough to afford an apartment with a liberal arts degree.
“Mediterranean orzo salad,” I said.
Regan and Ruby shared a look as we all moved like one unit from the front entryway, through the swinging door, into the large eat-in kitchen.
My parents’ house was the opposite of an open concept. It was more of a how-many-rooms-can-we-stuff-into-1400-square-feet concept. Despite the modest size, we’d each had our own bedrooms growing up—likely what had allowed my parents to stay sane raising three kids.
The kitchen hadn’t been updated in a couple of decades.
It still had the same worn, white appliances and yellow daisy backsplash my dad had installed when I was just a toddler.
There was something comforting about the way my parents liked to keep everything the same.
Every corner of this place held memories.
The kitchen also held the familiar sight of my dad perched on the kitchen island, the table already set behind him, and my mom sautéing something mouthwateringly delicious on the stove. It was a scene I had witnessed more times than I could count.
“Almost ready,” my mom said from the stove, leaning backward to receive a quick hug from Ruby and me.
Her genes were strong. Ruby and Regan were the spitting image of our mother—dark blonde, with stick-straight hair and large almond eyes.
I, on the other hand, could have passed for my dad’s twin had I suddenly had access to a time machine and found myself back in 1992.
We even had the same cropped haircut and black-rimmed glasses.
My ex used to beg me to try contacts, but they dried out my eyes.
Like a well-rehearsed dance, we all joined my dad, crowding around the island, waiting until my mom finished cooking to make our plates.
“Have some candy while you wait.” Mom pointed to a giant plastic bowl filled with individually wrapped chocolates.
“Before dinner?” Ruby asked, but grabbed one all the same.
“I bought too many bags.”
“You always buy too many,” I said, not taking one for myself.
Every year it was the same. She acted like our street was about to become the number-one target destination for every trick-or-treater within a forty-mile radius.
Next week, when they’d inevitably get a dozen kids max, she’d be stuck with pounds of Halloween candy that lasted until Christmas.
“What’s new at work?” Dad asked West, before West launched into an update. They were both in sales and always had a lot to discuss.
I had never been social enough to consider that path.
Behind the screen of a computer was where I functioned best. I had always been the most introverted in the family, and I didn’t see anything wrong with that.
My family, on the other hand, was always trying to meddle and said I needed to “get out there more”—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
I got out enough. And I had friends. West and I saw each other all the time, and just because I only spoke to the guys from my sleuthing group online, didn’t mean they weren’t real.
Ruby retrieved mismatched glasses from one of the upper cabinets and placed them on the kitchen island before bending down to get the ice bucket we always used.
Even though it was an extra step to get the ice from the fridge, put it in the bucket, and then add it to our glasses, it was something we always did.
As kids, we loved the idea; it reminded us of staying in a hotel.
Even a couple of decades later, we’d never lost the habit.
Ice clinked in our glasses, and diet soda fizzed.
Mom announced that dinner was ready, and instantly the kitchen sprang to life—a flurry of plates being passed around, bodies weaving near the stove, and a chorus of lively chatter as we eagerly served ourselves.
I had barely pulled my chair up to the kitchen table when Ruby squeezed in next to me and said, “Before I forget, I have a proposition for you.”
I pulled my napkin from underneath my fork and placed it on my lap. “What sort of proposition?”
“Okay, see, this is going to sound strange, but I really need you to take it seriously.”
My interest had officially been piqued. While everyone around us started digging into their plates, I leaned back and folded my arms, waiting for Ruby to reveal whatever it was she needed help with.
“Of course I’ll take it seriously,” I said.
She chewed her bottom lip before sighing. “It’s my coworker, Hazel. She’s a super-sweet girl, but she’s been going through a hard time, and she just had something awful happen to her.”
“What happened?” Mom’s concerned voice rang out from across the table. Now everyone had stopped talking, eyes glued to me and Ruby.
“It’s her cat.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Her cat?”
“Yes,” Ruby said. “He’s been stolen.”
My face scrunched into a mixture of disbelief and confusion before I could force my expression to remain neutral.
“How does she know it isn’t lost?” West asked, voicing the first question that had gone through my own mind.
“Because she got a message from the person who stole him,” Ruby said, frowning. “It really is awful. I know we’ve never been much of a pet family, but I can’t imagine someone stooping so low as to steal a cat.”
“She got a message? Saying what?” I asked, shoveling up some rice and meat with my fork and stuffing it in my mouth.
“That she basically has to pay the person a shit-ton of money, or she’ll never see Vermont again.”
“The state?” Regan and my mom asked in unison.
“The cat,” Ruby said.
“Cute name,” Dad said, reaching over me to scoop some of the pasta salad I’d made onto his plate.
“So someone is holding her cat for ransom.” Now I understood why Ruby had asked me to take it seriously. The entire situation sounded completely far-fetched, and helping random girls with lost cats wasn’t exactly my area of expertise.
“Exactly.” Ruby shook her head, tears already welling in her eyes. She’d always been a bit of an empath, deeply attuned to everyone else’s emotions.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m sure the cat will turn up,” West said, patting her on the shoulder.
He’d always been easily affectionate with her.
Did he have any idea how that affected her?
Part of me felt like I should warn him, as my best friend.
But the family loyalty I had toward Ruby held strong.
The last thing I wanted was to cause her any embarrassment or discomfort.
It was best if West stayed blissfully unaware.
“I don’t know. It all seems kind of sinister.” Ruby sniffled. “Will you please help her, Reid? I already told her you would.”
My shoulders tensed and I dropped my fork. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re a good person and you love a mystery.” She batted her eyelashes innocently at me.
Damn. She knew me too well. I hated saying no to anyone who needed help, especially when it was someone close to me asking.
“More sleuthing?” Mom frowned, her expression contorting into one of clear disapproval. She could not wrap her head around the hobby at all, despite not being able to tear her eyes away from the TV any time I threw on a true crime documentary. “What Reid really needs is a date.”
“Mom!” I dragged a hand along my jaw, anxiety simmering inside me. I hated dating. In fact, the only thing that I hated more than going on awkward dates with strangers, was discussing the concept with my family.
“I’m serious,” she continued, either oblivious to my discomfort or content to ignore it. Likely the latter. “I know the divorce with Meghan was tough on you, but it’s time to get back out there. You’re always on a computer, and you don’t need another excuse to lock yourself away in your office.”
“Don’t be so hard on him,” Dad chimed in at the same time I said, “I like always being on a computer.”
Regan snorted a laugh before covering her mouth with her hand. Her job search was typically the popular topic of conversation at family dinners. She was probably tickled that I was the one being questioned today instead of her.
“You’re a lovely man. A real catch,” Mom continued. “Someone is going to snatch you up so fast. If you’re going to be on a computer, at least join one of those dating websites. I bet if you started online dating, you’d only need to be on there one day before you found someone.”
West laughed and I shot him a glare. He raised his hand in a silent apology before staring down at his plate.