Chapter 5
The day had been somewhat of a bust and Abigail was grumpy about it, even though it had technically been a pretty good day. They had slept reasonably well, walked around, and eaten brunch. They then wandered to the MET to spend some time while Byron called various people and asked vague-sounding questions. She had never felt quite so useless; in fact, the experience reminded her strongly of the way she’d felt the single time she had accompanied her boss on a trip to San Fransisco, where she had absolutely not been needed. She had basically had a holiday in San Francisco while he negotiated a contract with ease.
They’d had lunch with Peta again. She was happy to help and thought she had found what they needed in an old file. She was going to get it tonight and meet them tomorrow, but she suggested Byron call a bunch of people, and so that was what they’d done all day.
All. Day.
How could feeling anxious while someone else made phone calls make you so tired?
By the time they returned to the hotel, Abigail felt like she had simultaneously worked a ten-hour day and done nothing at all. Even Doctor Lavender had let her know he’d need to get back to her tomorrow.
Guess even the most attentive doctor on the planet has other patients, too , she mused as she read the text. Locking the phone, she moved to the bed and started to slowly sort through the small pile of clothes she had bought to supplement the jeans and t-shirt she had been left with after the robbery… She would need to do laundry tomorrow as she hadn’t wanted to waste too much of the scant five hundred they had on trivialities. Byron had purchased himself some grey sweatpants to sleep in, and despite her asking for the tenth time, the front desk still hadn’t delivered the rollaway bed they said was available. A text notification lit up her screen.
From Cleo: you got time to chat?
Abigail read the text twice—it wasn’t like Cleo to be so blunt and it made her worry that something was wrong.
From Abigail: both of us or just me?
She looked up to where Byron was perched on his seat, getting ready to sleep and guilt gnawed at her.
From Cleo: both.
“Hey, Cleo wants to call and chat to us...”
He nodded and crossed to the bed, sitting down on the far corner as Abigail set up the phone on top of a stack of pillows. Cleo’s face filled the screen and Abigal swiped to answer.
“Hey you two,” Cleo’s bright voice didn’t quite match her concerned face.
“Hey yourself, what’s up?” Abigail asked suspiciously.
“Well...” Cleo said, “It’s nothing wrong, but... well, it’s all looking pretty bleak. I’ve done some digging into some of the local history and... jeez—you really never know someone, huh?
Her friend looked tired and drawn, Abigail realized.
“Cleo, have you been getting any sleep since we left?”
“I’m a nurse with a missing friend that no one will take seriously and my other best friend is in New York getting mugged... So, no, I don’t think I am sleeping well.”
“Nothing from Bee, huh?” Byron asked stiffly.
“Nope,” Cleo replied, “and your cop buddy still thinks I’m being a stalker. Told me to ‘relax’ today.”
“My cop buddy?” Byron asked, suddenly suspicious, “who?”
With a shrug, Cleo replied, “Some woman called Fontaine? She called after I ... well I put a complaint in about the jerk who wouldn’t even make a report.”
“She’s not my buddy,” Byron said. “She’s a good cop, but we are not friends.”
Abigail looked over at him and was surprised by the cool expression she found there—this really annoyed him, she realized.
“Sure,” Cleo said, “so, don’t be mad but I’ve digitized everything in the safe. The whole van fire thing... kind of freaked me out. So I have digital copies of it all now.”
“Oh cool, thank you,” Abigail replied, “Bee’s notes as well?”
Cleo nodded. “that’s what got me started on my local true crime binge. You know how Mrs. Foggerty told you Jacob was totally not his dad’s kid? And you know how getting trapped somewhere small is a not-insubstantial fear of mine? Well, I looked up her brother. He was a seriously nasty guy... serious enough that I think the fact that he got trapped inside a walk-in freezer and dying was actually probably for the best.”
“What!?” Abigail exclaimed, “he what!? Wasn’t he a mechanic?”
“Sure was,” Cleo said, “a real dodgy one at that, it seems he also imported questionably legal food and pharmaceuticals. But get this—Jacob’s mom wasn’t exactly a saint either. The more I look into Jacob’s life, the dodgier it becomes; his mom had a criminal record and only got on the right path after a short stint in jail for selling stolen goods. And they weren’t a one night stand kind of infidelity—they were together for a long time. She was on again, off again with him for fifteen years—it only really stopped when he popped in and out of jail for a whole colorful range of things, including blackmail. I can honestly see why Jacob’s dad was... angry about it.”
Her mind raced with all this information, she and Jacob had always thought it was his dad who cheated on his mom, and maybe he did, but... damn.
“Jeez...” Byron said, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, “Look, it’s not uncommon, but... honestly, I’m amazed Jacob wasn’t more messed up. You guys think he suspected anything at all?”
Thinking back, some things seemed different to her now, but on the whole, they had put a lot of effort into seeming perfect.
“I mean... he was suspicious but of his dad... his mom could do no wrong in his eyes.”
“That’s also not uncommon,” Cleo added.
“What kind of things was his dad going to jail for?” Abigail asked.
The look on Cleo’s face was disconcerting. She pressed her lips together into a pout that was one hundred percent judgmental.
“More like what had he not been in jail for,” she said. “Did you want the list?”
“Sure,” Abigail said, casting a look at Byron.
“I could only see from when he was eighteen,” Cleo said, “even though he’s dead, apparently juvenile records are sealed.”
“Wow, okay,” Abigail replied.
“Not all of these are like, jail time, but they’re from the notes on his criminal file,” Cleo took a deep breath and started reading off her list, “possession, conspiracy to supply, use of a false identification, receiving stolen goods, selling stolen goods, intent to distribute, possession, petty theft, vandalism, assault, grievous bodily harm, assault, stalking, harassment, assault, grand theft auto attempted, blackmail, sending threats, assault, and wire fraud.”
“Wire fraud!?” Abigail exclaimed.
“Out of everything I listed there, wire fraud is where you’re stuck?” Cleo commented.
“I just… didn’t think wire fraud was a thing anymore…”
The three friends fell silent as they each processed what had just been said. It didn’t change everything, but it sure did paint some things in a very different light. She could see Cleo declining on the screen, her friends’ eyelids getting heavier and drooping closed. It was like she had been on a roll, and now that she had let it all out, she was finally able to pause.
“I gotta go guys,” Cleo said finally, yawning, “I have work in the morning. Enjoy your luxury suite.”
Abigail laughed and bid her friend goodnight before turning to Byron and realizing that over the course of the conversation, he had moved from his uncomfortable perch at the end of the bed to sitting right next to her.
While they had been talking, he hadn’t felt all that close to her, but now that she didn’t have Cleo to focus on, all she could sense was exactly how close he actually was. Their arms were touching and she could smell the strongly floral hotel soap on his skin. It was so different from his usual smell that it almost made her laugh; she was smiling as she looked over at him and noticed that he was already looking at her. She wasn’t crazy, right? This wasn’t how two totally platonic friends caught themselves looking at each other, right? The thoughts running through her head were overwhelming and it was all she could do not to blurt out the question.
“Let me sleep on the chair, please?” she said, surprised by how breathy she sounded.
He blinked, “What?”
“Uh, I feel bad... about your back...”
“So you...” he said, trailing off, before continuing in a firm voice, “you already sleep like trash. You can’t sleep in the chair.”
She hadn’t even thought about it before it came out of her mouth, and even as she was saying, she realized how it sounded.
“I mean, we’re grown-ups here; you can just sleep here with me, you know...”
Her stomach lurched as his eyebrows shot up and she couldn’t take it back.
“Sleep... here with you?” he repeated and she felt her face grow hot.
“You know what I mean!” she replied, resenting her traitorous face for blushing. “The bed is plenty big enough for us to share without it being uncomfortable.”
If she were honest, she couldn’t imagine being uncomfortable sharing a bed with him, but she kept that thought to herself.
The way he was looking at her was confusing... he seemed so hesitant and guarded but there was something else there to and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“And... you’re sure...?” he asked, “that it isn’t, you know, a problem?”
What?
“No... definitely not a problem,” she said firmly.
“Okay,” he replied, nodding slowly, “so long as you’re sure, kick me out if you change your mind, okay?”
“Okay?” she said, “I kind of want to head to bed now, I’m exhausted and we have to be up early tomorrow to meet Peta. Don’t feel like you have to sleep now, too...”
“No it’s fine,” he replied quickly.
The reality of what she’d suggested sank in as he handed her phone to her and cleared the stack of cushions it had been sitting on. She peeled back the comforter and slid in between the sheets. The room was silent as he followed suit. She could hear every rustle of fabric and the way his breathing sounded.
A hard swallow against the lump in her throat, Abigail coughed to clear it. She counted slowly in her mind; one, two, three, four, five, six… this was fine… seven, eight, nine… you’re not going to freak out… ten.
“All right,” she said, pretending that her heart wasn’t racing and that she couldn’t feel his warmth radiating out from his body barely a foot away. “Goodnight.”
The light flicked out and suddenly, in the dark, the space between them as they lay in bed next to each other felt a lot smaller than it had with the light on. Sounding closer than ever, a shiver ran down her body as he whispered, “goodnight, Abby.”