Chapter 32 ~ Carter ~
"S he doesn't live here anymore." I stared at the long row of doorbell nameplates, suddenly unsure of what I was feeling. "She changed her number and moved. It's pretty clear. She doesn't want to see me again. She just took off."
Don put his hand on my shoulder. "Slow down, Carter. You don't know exactly what happened."
"Yes, I do. She's gone." As I said those words, an unfamiliar emptiness spread through me. When I had broken up with Abigail, I had mostly felt relieved. And when I had sent Isabella away at Cameron's wedding, I had been full of anger. But now... there was simply nothing inside me.
"Yes, she doesn't seem to live here anymore," Don nodded in confirmation. "But you don't know why she's not here. You don't have the slightest idea. Assuming she left because she didn't want to see you anymore is purely your conclusion."
I was still staring at the row of doorbell nameplates where Isabella's name was missing.
"What else could have happened?"
Had Isabella met someone else and was now living with him? The thought felt like a punch to my gut.
Don's right, Carter. You don't know anything. Nothing at all.
I immediately calmed down a bit.
"Maybe something was wrong with the apartment. Maybe she lost her phone. Or it fell in water." Don offered a series of guesses that all sounded quite plausible. When I looked at him, he shrugged. "It could be anything."
"What if she's not even in New York anymore?" After all, Isabella could be anywhere.
"Man, buddy, you don't know that. But even if she's not: So what? Then you'll just go wherever she is and find her." Don looked at me. "Or is Los Angeles too far for you?"
"You think she's in Los Angeles?" I stared at Don, stunned. "How would you know that?"
Don groaned. "I have no idea, buddy. That was just an example. I just said she could be anywhere. How far would you go to find her?"
"Anywhere." My answer came spontaneously, quickly, and felt completely right. Yes. I would go anywhere to find Isabella. Around the whole world if I had to.
"There you go."
"And how am I supposed to find out where she is?" I pointed helplessly at the doorbell nameplate.
"Come on, Carter. Seriously. Being in love must have clouded your brain a bit. How else? How do people find others nowadays and where?" Don looked at me expectantly, as if the answer was obvious and every American first-grader should know it.
However, I was preoccupied with another word.
Love.
Was I in love?
I couldn't get Isabella out of my head. If I was honest... not since I had first met her. During the week we spent together, I had constantly thought about her and imagined in all sorts of situations what it would be like if she were with me now. After the wedding, I had tried hard not to think about her anymore. Which was basically the same as constantly thinking about her.
Isabella was the woman I wanted to have with me all the time.
And that could only mean... Don was right.
I was in love.
"No idea where to find someone," I said now.
Don groaned. "Never heard of the internet? Social networks? Isabella must be registered somewhere and have an account."
Of course. Indeed, any schoolchild could have given that answer. Only I, in my blindness, hadn't thought of it. I quickly reached into my pocket and took out my phone. I needed to know where Isabella was now.
Right away.
I opened the Facebook app and started typing Isabella's name into the search field.
At that moment, someone came out of the door we had been standing next to for so long. I looked up quickly.
Isabella?
Nonsense, Carter, you just saw that she doesn't live here anymore. So what would she be doing here? It CAN'T be Isabella. Stop looking for her everywhere when you have no idea where she is.
Of course, it wasn't Isabella coming out of the door, but a portly man in his late fifties wearing a faded sweater with several grease stains on it. He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and started fiddling with the doorbell nameplates.
The janitor?
"Do you know where Isabella Abbott moved to?" The question escaped me before I could think about it further. And why not? A janitor usually knew quite a bit about what was going on in the buildings he took care of. Since he was changing the doorbell nameplates, he knew who came and went. And maybe also where to.
"To the other side," the man grunted, unsuccessfully trying to pull a nameplate out of its holder.
To the other side?
I turned around and looked at the building on the other side of the street. There was a bakery on the ground floor. Above it were several floors with apartments. Was Isabella living there now?
I had already set one foot on the street when Don asked, "Above the bakery?"
"Nah," grunted the portly janitor.
"What do you mean by 'to the other side' then?" Disappointed, I turned back. I felt like I had just lost Isabella again. It had just seemed like she was so close... and now I had no idea again.
"Opposite." The janitor obviously wasn't one of the most talkative people. I wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him. Here was someone who apparently knew where Isabella was and wasn't telling me. Yet I needed to know that more urgently than anything else! But apparently, no one understood how urgent this was for me!
"Where opposite?" I could barely hide the impatience in my voice. "On the other side of the street? What exactly do you mean?"
The janitor lowered his hand holding the screwdriver and looked at us closely for the first time. "Who are you anyway? And why are you asking all these questions? If Ms. Abbott wanted you to know her address, surely she would have told you where she moved to?"
"Well..." I stuttered, embarrassed. The janitor was right, of course. What should I say now? "It's a private matter. I absolutely need to see Isabella." This explanation sounded unconvincing even to my own ears. It wasn't even really an explanation at all.
The janitor just snorted.
"Mr. Jenkins here owes Ms. Abbott some money," Don explained at that moment. "He's come to discuss the terms with her. When he should pay which installment and how. If he can't find Ms. Abbott, she won't be able to get what's rightfully hers. And that would be a real shame. We all need money, don't we?"
I looked at Don gratefully. Once again, he had gotten me out of a tight spot. He was always there when I needed him. The explanation he had just given was obvious, but I would never have thought to give it at that moment.
"Indeed, we all need money," grumbled the janitor. "I'd be happy if someone would just give me 50 dollars like that."
That was a pretty clear hint. I took my wallet out of my breast pocket and pulled out a 50 dollar bill. When I held it under the janitor's nose, his eyes widened. He reached for it so hastily that I barely managed to pull the bill out of his reach in time. The man really needed money desperately.
"Not so fast, my friend. Work first, then reward. So: Where did Isabella Abbott move to?" I repeated my question from earlier.
The janitor was now much more forthcoming. "Across the hall. With her friend. She lives on the same floor, just with her neighbor now. Or rather, her roommate now." He pointed to the doorbell label he had just painstakingly removed. "There. I'm about to replace the label. Haven't gotten around to it yet. Just removed hers."
I quickly pressed the 50 dollars into the portly man's hand, pushed him aside as fast as I could, and immediately pressed my thumb on the button next to the label he had just removed.
I rang the bell.
And waited with bated breath.
So Isabella wasn't far away after all. On the contrary, she was very close. She hadn't moved in with another man and she hadn't left New York.
This news lifted a weight off my chest.
On the other side of the intercom, it remained silent.
I rang again.
"You can wait here all day," grumbled the janitor beside me.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked sharply. The man was driving me crazy. Did I have to drag every word out of him? He apparently knew everything but said little. Or did he want another 50 dollars for more information?
"I saw the two of them drive off earlier. In that dented Toyota that Ms. Abbott always drives. No idea where they went. Maybe man-hunting. You know, spring fever and all that." The janitor shrugged. "They didn't look like they were coming back right away. Well, you can understand. Ms. Abbott has been alone since that creep moved out over a year ago."
My thoughts were racing.
So Isabella hadn't been involved with that man from the hotel? He hadn't been living here when we met?
And...
Man-hunting.
Isabella wanted to meet other men now?
I would have loved to give the janitor another 50 dollars. This time, to shut him up. His speculations were driving me crazy. I had just been thinking about waiting here until Isabella came home, but I couldn't stand having this guy around. Not even if Don stood next to me and kept calming me down. Besides, I really had no idea when Isabella would return.
It could be in a minute.
In an hour.
Or not until tomorrow morning.
Had I come too late after all?
"We'll come back tomorrow." With these words, I turned around, gave Don a pat on the shoulder, and walked back to the car.
"Give me the keys, I'll drive this time. It will distract me a bit. I've long since sobered up from the alcohol."
"Sure, buddy." Don handed me the car keys. "There's no opportunity to speed here anyway."
No opportunity and no reason. After all, I didn't know where Isabella was. I couldn't drive to her as quickly as possible.
I got behind the wheel.
Where was Isabella?
And what was she doing there?
Would I be able to find her in time?
Or had I started looking for her too late?