82. Chapter 82
“Does that look like a boob?” Jase asked.
A few days ago, after a long afternoon of packing, Lindsey and Jase had laid on her bed looking at the round light on her bedroom ceiling.
The boob light came into focus now as Lindsey peeled her eyes open from the floor where her bed used to be. She swore to herself it was the last time she’d stumble drunk from Smitty’s to that apartment. Since she was almost entirely moved out, it was an easy promise to keep.
Her phone buzzed. She reached for it on top of her purse and held it above her face.
Twelve new messages.
She bolted straight up. Her head immediately protested the sudden move with a throbbing headache in her temples. How much had she drank? There was a second Submarino…
And something else after that.
No messages from Jase. It was three o’clock in the afternoon and nothing from the man who should’ve wondered where she was by now.
The texts, increasing in desperation, were from Graham a few hours ago and Helen. Plus two missed calls from Helen and one from her dad.
She got the picture. Helen wasn’t coming back. The money was gone. Jase would be gone. It was, as Graham proclaimed, over.
Her phone buzzed again as she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out the door. Without looking at who was calling, she swiped to answer.
It was a mistake.
“Lindsey?”
She froze in the upstairs hallway. “Dad?”
“Lindsey, thank goodness. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”
She adjusted her purse strap and hurried down the hall. “Dad, now isn’t a good time.”
“Are you okay? You sound upset.”
“Everything’s fine.” Lies, lies, lies. “I’m just in a hurry.”
“I’ll be brief. Have you heard from your brother?”
Lindsey hesitated on the bottom step. “Which one?”
She knew exactly which one. The one who was either still asleep or gearing up for another night with the bottle.
“Luke. He’s missing.”
“Missing?”
She fished her keys out of her purse and pushed through the door of the apartment complex into a wall of skin prickling humidity. Her car was parked in front of Smitty’s where classic rock seeped through the bar’s many cracks and crevices into the hazy afternoon heat.
“Rachel called. She’s worried about Luke.”
“Rachel called you?” Lindsey asked.
“She said there was a fight and he hasn’t been home since.”
Lindsey guessed Rachel hadn’t divulged the particulars of the fight.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Lindsey said.
“She also said the hospital is concerned because he’s been out two days in a row. I’ve called in a few favors from the vets—”
“Dad, he’s fine,” she groaned. “Don’t call the vets.”
“He’s fine? Have you talked to him?”
She was starting her car or she would’ve answered quicker. The small gap in her response was enough to give her away.
“You have. Lindsey, what’s going on? I need to talk to Luke. Do you know where he is?”
“He’s a grown man.”
A grown man. As if age meant anything to any of the grown men in her life.
“He’s about to lose his job, so if you know something, now’s the time to tell it.”
“Dad, I’m driving,” she said. She knew how much he hated phone use behind the wheel.
“Pull over. This is serious.”
“I can’t, Dad, I’m in a hurry. I’ll call you later, okay? If I hear anything from Luke, I’ll let you know.”
“Lindsey,” he said in the tone that usually meant she was in big trouble. If he felt like punishing her, he’d have to get in line.
“‘Bye, Dad!” She hung up the phone. She’d never hung up on her dad. Ever. She imagined him staring at the receiver wondering if she had lost her mind.
While they were talking, another message came through. She didn’t need to look at it to know what it said.
It’s over, or something equally damning.
This time she believed it.