Chapter 19
The next morning goes much the same, except that I don't go looking for Midnight when I can't find him. If he wants to miss breakfast because he's cuddling with Mack, that's his business. Not that I can blame the cat for it. I'd be willing to push back breakfast to be held in those impressive arms.
I bat the thought away and fill Mooch's bowl after I let him out to go tinkle in the backyard.
Truth be told, I'm kind of loving having the dog as a roommate.
There's something cozy about watching him walk a perimeter in the backyard, sniffing every bush, flower, and tree along the way as if he’s taking it all very seriously.
I'm standing at the sink, holding my coffee, watching Mooch do just that when Mack says, "I wonder how he decides which ones to pee on?"
I flinch in surprise--I hadn't heard him walk up behind me. I hiss as hot coffee sloshes over my hands and down the front of my t-shirt. This one says Hey, Sailor on it. I got it during fleet week in San Francisco. It had seemed a good idea at the time.
"Sorry," he says, wincing. "I thought you knew I was there."
"Nope." I pull my soaked t-shirt away from my skin.
I set the coffee cup in the bottom of the sink. I don't know what it is, but it always seems easier to grab a new cup than to clean the one that's been spilled.
"Can I do anything to help?"
"Nah. I'll be right back."
Two minutes later, I've cleaned up and changed.
I just grabbed t-shirt at the top of the stack in my drawer, so when Mack grins down at it, I have to double-check which one it is.
It's a gag t-shirt that has a body printed on it.
Instead of the classic--a shapely woman wearing a skimpy bikini--it has a man with a hairy beer belly.
"Where on earth did you get that?"
I shrug. "It made me laugh. Some women collect Fiestaware or old lamps, I collect novelty t-shirts."
"Noted."
The way he says it makes my stomach flutter. It sounds like stuff about me is worth noting to him, as if every detail is important. I don't know what to do with that. It feels too good to be true so I instinctively ignore it.
It turns out that the reports Mack picked up from Ziggy are more detailed than I could have imagined. Not only do they tell us who the numbers are, but there’s a section that tracks the GPS movements of Alex’s phone.
“For the most part, it’s just work and home,” I say.
“Except for this.” Mack taps the paper.
For a second I’m distracted by his finger. Is it weird that I think his hands are attractive? He has large fingers that end in nails that are trimmed short. They’re as tan as the rest of him. They’re strong, capable hands.
“What do you think it is?” he asks.
I jerk my eyes back to the paper. “I don’t know, but he only went there once. Last Tuesday.”
I don’t bother saying the rest of it out loud: last Tuesday was the day before he went missing. Mack is already punching the GPS coordinates into his phone.
“Looks like it’s a shopping center.” He pinches those fingers on the screen and frowns. “A laundromat, a Chinese restaurant, a bakery, and an orthopedic shoe store.”
I frown. “Alex does his laundry here and he doesn't even like Chinese food.”
“Does he have bad feet?” Mack arches an eyebrow.
“Not that I'm aware of.” I don't tell him what else I'm thinking--maybe I wouldn't know if my brother had bad feet. This entire thing has me wondering how well I ever knew him at all.
But maybe something in my tone says it for me because Mack lays a warm hand on my shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze. “We're going to find him, Gabriella."
I wish I felt as confident as he sounded, but as the days pass I get more and more worried. It's like there's this spool in my midsection that just keeps tightening and tightening.
“Alex has never been self-sufficient,” I finally say. “Even when he was home with me I did the cooking, and the cleaning. Half the time I did his laundry.”
Mack waits patiently as I figure out what I want to say.
I add, “I just don't understand how he's making it on his own wherever he is. It makes me feel duped, like maybe he never needed me that much. That maybe I was just a doormat.”
To my surprise, Mack grins. “I know we haven't known each other that long, but if there's one thing I know for certain about you it's that you're no doormat.”
I shrug. “You know what I mean.”
“Look I get it, but I don't think for one second that he just took off for no reason.” He pauses and to me it feels like he's choosing his words carefully. “I wonder if he left because he thought that would keep you safe.”
I nod because I've wondered much the same.
While Alex is an adult physically and legally, there are some parts of his mind that are still naive and childlike.
I could see him leaving to keep me safe even though that wouldn't work. It’s the same mentality that makes little kids think no one can find them if they hide their face.
“Want to go check it out?” Mack asks.
I nod. It beats sitting around here waiting. I don't even know what I'm waiting for anymore, either Alex to come home or for those guys to come back.
“Let's go,” he says.