Chapter 13
Anika
“No.”
I clap my hand over my mouth to not laugh out loud.
The nurse, all five foot two of her, folds her arms over her chest as she blocks the doorway and faces up with Hog. Apparently, he has a stubborn streak too, because he refuses to get in the wheelchair she showed up with.
“Hospital policy, sir,” she repeats, not in the least intimidated with Hog’s looming figure.
He’s generally pretty easygoing, but I guess after being poked and prodded for the past twenty hours or so, there’s a limit to the indignities he is willing to suffer. I’m also not sure he had a very restful sleep, there are dark circles under his eyes.
“I’m not rolling out of here in a wheelchair when I’m more than capable of walking.”
I’d better step in before this escalates. It doesn’t look like the nurse is willing to budge on the issue, but maybe I’ll have better luck with Hog.
“Noah?”
I purposely use his real name and his eyes immediately flash to me. I don’t even need to say anything else.
Hog drops his head and mumbles, “Fine.”
As soon as he’s seated in the wheelchair, I lean down and kiss the top of his head.
“I’ll go grab the truck and meet you out front.”
Ten minutes later, we’re on our way to my place.
“What’s all that?” Hog asks, looking at the bags behind my seat.
When he called this morning to share he’d probably be released in an hour or so, I was just finishing up my first client of the day. Landon just had a cancellation and offered to take my next one.
It gave me a chance to stop in at the City Market and get some groceries. I realized while I was eating my yogurt and fruit this morning, if I wanted to look after Hog, I’d better get some food to sustain him.
Those are the four large bags behind me.
“I promised you bacon,” I remind him with a grin. “And I picked up a few other things.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble,” he grumbles.
“You have to eat, don’t you?”
He makes a point of peeking at the bags again.
“Pretty sure whatever’s in there would feed my entire crew for a week.”
“Hardly.”
It’s quiet after that, but I can feel his eyes on me while I navigate the streets of Durango.
“What?” I finally break down.
“Is this a family thing?” he asks.
“Is what a family thing?”
“This need to feed. Your mom has it.”
I wince at the comparison. Mom definitely has a need to feed, but I never realized that trait rubbed off on me. It makes you wonder what other traits you may have inherited.
It reminds me of my conversation with her last night.
“Speaking of my mother—she called me last night. I think Bodhi talked to her, because she demanded I show up for Sunday dinner.”
I pause and wait for him to meet my gaze before I finish.
“And insisted I bring you.”
It’s clear he’s not reading the situation the way I do, because he looks excited at the prospect.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had your mom’s cooking. Looking forward to it.”
Yup. Not the same takeaway at all.
I turn onto my street and pull into the driveway. Then I shut off the engine and turn to face him.
“You’re missing the point.”
He looks confused.
“I am?”
“Yeah. First of all, she’s asking me to bring you, which means Bodhi talked to her. She’s already pissed at me I didn’t call her yesterday, and now she obviously heard from my brother you and I are a thing, which she’s gonna be even more pissed about. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my mother likes to be in the know.”
“Is that what we are? A thing?”
“Still missing the point,” I bite off. It’s possible I growled.
Hog lifts his hands defensively, palms out, and I take a deep breath. I may have inherited my mother’s quick temper as well. Shit.
“This isn’t gonna be about food,” I explain, at a more moderate tone. “It’s going to be an inquisition. There will be prying and probing, likely some inappropriate and premature questions regarding intentions, and my mother will most definitely test the waters on her prospects of becoming a grandmother anytime soon.”
“We’ll deal with it,” he calmly states, cupping my face with his hand.
I love that he says that, but I’m afraid he doesn’t understand the full scope.
“I’m also thinking of telling them about my RA. It’s not gonna be fun already, I figure I might as well get it all over with at once.”
He deserves fair warning, and I wouldn’t blame him if he opted not to be part of the family drama I’m about to unleash.
“We’ll deal with that too,” he comments instead.
He either is too good to be true, or utterly clueless.
“You can still back out,” I offer.
“Not my style.”
I shake my head. “Well, you were warned. It’s going to be a shit show, and I’m sorry in advance for putting you through that.”
He leans in for a kiss before he responds.
“Worth it.”
“Mom’s food? It’s good, but trust me, it’s not that good.”
“No, you,” he corrects me. “You’re worth it.”
I’m still replayingthat conversation when I get back to the salon for my two o’clock appointment.
I left Hog installed on the couch with a blanket, his phone, the remote, a bottle of water, and a basket of snacks. He assured me he could get up and grab what he needs himself, but it makes me feel better to know he doesn’t have to.
When I enter through the back door, the first person I encounter is Landon, who walks out of the supply room, muttering under his breath.
“Oh, thank God you’re here,” he expresses when he sees me.
I’m immediately alarmed.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“We’re swamped. We had three walk-ins over lunch Molly should’ve refused but didn’t, and when I pointed it out, she ran out of here crying. That was ten minutes ago and now there’s two of us trying to juggle our own appointments, the walk-ins, and Kim’s clients as well. My one thirty is out there waiting for me to be done with Kim’s twelve o’clock. It’s mayhem.”
There’s a lot to take in here, not the least of it Molly taking off. Landon can fly off the handle sometimes and when he does, it’s not always pretty. But that’s not what has my attention right now.
“Kim’s not back from her appointment?” I ask, following behind him as he heads to the front.
Kim was supposed to meet with the counselor Mel set her up with this morning, but was expected back before lunch.
“Nope. She called and said something came up,” he shares, looking back at me over his shoulder
“You talked to her?” I ask, hanging back.
“Monique did.”
One glance into the salon tells me he wasn’t exaggerating.
There are three people sitting in the small waiting nook by the front desk, one of them my client. Then one person is sitting at Monique’s station, while she is rinsing out another at the sinks, and Landon’s chair is also occupied, but he’s currently dealing with the person sitting at Kim’s station.
All eyes are on me and nobody is looking particularly happy.
Part of me wants to turn right back around and walk out, but I can’t. I own the joint.
So, I hold up one finger, ask for a minute, and duck into my office to get rid of my purse, change my shoes for my comfy Crocs, and dial Molly’s number. I’m about to give up when she answers.
The first thing she says is, “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
I do my best to keep my voice from sounding as overwhelmed as I am, and listen patiently to her explanation, when patience is the last thing I feel.
“I can see why that would’ve upset you,” I try to calm her, channeling my inner Dr. Phil. “We all know Landon can be…how shall I put it…a little temperamental, and I’m sure he’ll tell you himself how badly he feels for yelling at you.”
At least he will, after I tell him to. We can properly clear the air when we don’t have a salon full of pissed-off people.
“Where are you now?” I ask, holding my breath and hoping she’s not already home.
“On the bench by the river. I walked down here.”
I know the spot; I occasionally walk down there myself when it’s not busy and I need a breather.
“Molly, why don’t you come back? We could really use your help here.”
She takes a moment to think.
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
I let out a big sigh. “Great. I’ll see you soon.”
Then I rush into the salon to greet my two-o’clock appointment. When I pass Landon, I lean in and whisper in his ear.
“Get your apology ready, Molly’s on her way back.”
Ignoring his grumble, I get busy.
I’m notsure how we did it, but by six thirty the last customer is gone.
Landon is walking Molly to her car, and hopefully clearing the air, while Monique is helping me clean up the salon. I finally have a chance to get the dirt on Kim.
“What did she say to you?”
Monique shuts off the vacuum and clips it back in the charger next to the coffee station before turning to me.
“That something came up and she’d call you later to explain. Did you not talk to her?”
I grab my phone to see if there are any missed calls or messages, but there aren’t.
“Nope,” I tell Monique while I find Kim’s number.
I call and listen to it ring before I’m relegated to the mailbox, where I’m told I can’t leave a message because it’s full. I shoot off a quick text instead.
“Not answering. I’m gonna go see if she’s upstairs.”
It would be kind of strange if she came back and didn’t check in with us, but who knows what’s up? I put on my shoes, drop my phone in my purse, and swing it over my shoulder.
Monique is already waiting by the back door.
“I’m coming with you,” she announces.
It’s clear, after five minutes pounding on the door, she’s not here.
“Should I go grab the spare key?” Monique asks.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve reached the point where I’m ready to invade her privacy. Maybe she’s just visiting her mom,” I suggest, trying to come up with reasons she can’t be reached.
“I still say it’s weird.”
I lead the way down the stairs. Stopping at the driver’s side door of the truck, I turn to face Monique.
“I don’t disagree, but I’m going to give her some more time. If she doesn’t get back to me in the next few hours, I’m calling Detective Evans. I’d feel more comfortable having him there before we barge into the apartment.”
“Fair enough,” she concedes. “Keep me in the loop.”
“Will do. Same here if you happen to hear from her.”
Hog
I have a large pizza box sitting on the coffee table when she walks in the front door.
I can smell the cheese from here and my stomach’s been grumbling since I had it delivered ten minutes ago. I was tempted to get a head start, but decided to wait instead.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” she jokes, kicking off her shoes and tossing her bag on the bench.
Despite the smile on her face, I can see the stress right behind it.
“Long day?” I inquire.
“You can say that,” she answers, walking up to me and leaning down for a brief kiss. “How are you feeling?”
I don’t bother pointing out she hasn’t really answered my question, I’ll get back to it. From her reaction, I have a feeling it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill day.
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “Had a nap.”
I actually had several. I’m not used to sitting still and prefer to stay busy, but I wasn’t feeling up to more than lounging on the couch today.
Anika turns to the pizza box and peeks inside, rewarding me with a smile.
“You ordered us pizza,” she observes.
“Half pepperoni, half roasted vegetables. Yes, I did.”
“Thank you.” She throws me a smile. “Not sure I would’ve been up to cooking tonight.”
“I’d have cooked, but figured that might tick you off, so I ordered instead. That took no effort.”
“You’re right, I would’ve been upset with you,” she admits as she sits down beside me.
Starving, I take one of the plates I set out and load it with a few roasted vegetable slices before handing it to her. Then I grab myself some from the other half of the pizza and sit back. Anika is already eating when I sink my teeth into the pizza.
“So, tell me about this long day,” I ask when she finishes her first slice.
She does, giving me the blow-by-blow. Between settling the ruffled feathers of two of her employees, and another not showing up when she was supposed to, it sounds like she had a rough afternoon.
I could get used to this. Sharing a meal with her, talking about our days. It’s not something I’m accustomed to. When my father was still alive, the subject of my work never came up at the dinner table. It was hog business alone. When only Mom and I were left, we’d occasionally ask each other, but the response from either one of us would always be the same. Fine.
“So, Kim never showed up?” I ask, wondering what would’ve been the reason and not liking the possible scenarios that come to mind.
“No. Checked the apartment, called her phone, sent her a message. Nothing. Which reminds me,” she says, getting up and walking to the front door. “I should see if she got back to me.”
She digs through her purse and pulls out her phone, checking the display.
“Still nothing,” she reports.
I haven’t talked to anyone today, but the last I heard no body was found at the scene of the fire, which means the woman’s husband is out there somewhere. I’d say it’s cause for concern.
“Sweetheart, I think you should call Evans,” I suggest.
She gives me a long look and then nods, immediately pulling up his number.
Twenty minutes later, we’re in my truck on our way to the Chop Shop to meet the detective. Anika was going to go meet him alone, but I wasn’t about to let her. Even though a three-year-old with a temper tantrum could probably knock me over, I’m hoping my size will be enough of a deterrent.
Evans is already there, waiting at the base of the stairs to the apartment.
“Spoke to Mel,” he informs us. “She hasn’t heard from Kim and was able to find out from her friend that she never showed up for her therapy session this morning.”
Anika’s hand slips her hand in mine as she mutters, “Shit.”
“Yeah. I’m going to want to know exactly what she said in that phone call,” Evans tells her.
“Monique took the call.”
“Okay, I’ll check with her after. Do you have the key?”
Anika lets go of my hand and pulls her keys from her pocket.
“It’s in my office, I’ll go grab it.”
She unlocks the back door, disarms the alarm, and slips inside, while we stand guard outside.
“It doesn’t sound good,” I observe.
Bill shakes his head, his lips pressed together. “No, it doesn’t. I also spoke to the nursing home and was told the last time Kim had been in to see her mother was Wednesday.”
Anika appears with the keys and hands them off to Bill, who leads the way up the stairs.
“Want you to wait here,” he says when we get to the small landing. “I’m gonna do a quick check first.”
Anika’s hand finds mine again as soon as he disappears inside. He’s only gone for a minute when he pulls the door open.
“No one’s here. Want to have a quick look and tell me if anything looks out of place or off to you?” he asks Anika, stepping aside to let her through.
She reappears shortly after, shaking her head.
“I don’t see anything odd. She didn’t bring over a lot of stuff, mainly clothes, and from what I can tell those are still here. Her phone charger is still on the kitchen counter. Her e-reader on the bedside table.”
Anika sidles up to me, and I slip an arm around her.
Evans nods. “I agree. Nothing in there sends up any flags.”
He locks the door and gestures for us to go ahead down the stairs. When we get to the bottom, he looks up at the apartment one last time before sharing his thoughts with us.
“And yet everything about this feels wrong.”