Chapter 2
SETH
On the half-hour drive over to Fair Heights, I reflect on my relationship with my parents.
It’s hardly a thing worth considering. Because what relationship? Our connection was weak before Kyle’s death. They spent Kyle’s and my childhood working and ignoring us. When I tried to get their help in talking Kyle out of his marriage to Madison, they ignored my concerns.
And when he died, they turned into bitter assholes, intent on stealing his insurance money out from under Madison.
Although I’d been against the marriage to begin with, I couldn’t let that stand.
We’ve barely spoken since.
As I pull into their driveway, I wonder if maybe we were all too harsh on each other. Death does crazy things to people. My parents didn’t need the money—they’ve always had plenty, with my mother’s career as a high-up manager of network engineers, and my father’s work as a financial analyst.
This house I grew up in doesn’t scream wealth.
It’s a modest three-bedroom in an older neighborhood.
Big trees, wide streets. Large front lawns.
It’s still upper middle class, though. I realize, as I get out of my car and face the house, I grew up privileged, although a bit lonely.
Kyle wasn’t born until I was eleven, so we weren’t exactly playmates.
I was in charge of babysitting more than I should have been.
Our parents did whatever they could to not be around us.
Yeah. Privileged but lonely. Fuck this place.
A car pulls up behind me. I turn around and freeze in place, shocked. It’s Madison.
She parks and gets out of her car. She has on a pair of jeans and one of her zombie t-shirts. This one bears the logo from Shamblers—silhouettes of zombies against a full moon. Her light brown hair blows gently in the breeze and she flips her sunglasses up to hold her hair in place. “Hey.”
I’m glad to see her—in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relieved to see someone at my parents’ house. But instead of saying so, I blurt, “What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too.” She sticks out her tongue. “Damiano said you were coming here today. I brought you coffee and a croissant. I thought you might also want some company. But if you don’t, I can leave the food and go.”
I take a few strides and crowd her up against the side of her car. “You’re the only snack I want.”
She laughs. “That’s so cheesy, Seth—”
I shut her up with a kiss. Why would I want to go into my parents’ house and search for clues when I could lose myself in this beautiful woman? When I deepen the kiss, plunging my tongue between her lips, she moans and clutches my shoulders.
I press her against the car, letting her feel my hardness against her soft belly. “I should take you right here, in view of the neighbors.”
“Seth, that’s a terrible idea.” She squirms away from my kiss and places her hands on my chest.
“It’s a brilliant idea. They’d be scandalized, but they’d like it.” I slide a hand down to her waistband. “But if you don’t want that, I could finger you instead. If you’re good, I’ll let you come.”
“Seth.” She moves her hands to my face. “I love being touched by you. But I didn’t come here to distract you—I came here to help.”
“Distraction is help.”
Her sad smile punches me in the gut. “I know.”
I let her go, allowing her to reach into her car and pull out two coffees and a bag which I suspect holds my croissant.
She hands a coffee and the bag to me. “Shall we go inside? Would you rather I wait out here?”
“You can come in.” I raise the coffee cup in thanks.
She follows me up to the front door. I try the handle.
It’s locked, but I have a key. My parents have a basic alarm set-up—however, it doesn’t go off when we enter.
Likely, they were taken from here, then.
Assuming they’d set the alarm before they were taken, this was a job done by pros who could disable it.
Unsurprising, when I still suspect Point Ops.
Unfortunately, Point Ops hasn’t taken credit for the kidnapping.
I glance around for signs of a struggle.
The runner in the entryway is crooked, which my mom would’ve fixed if she had the chance.
Everything else in the entryway looks normal, though.
On the wall hangs a mirror, and on one side of it, a photo of my parents on their wedding day.
On the other, a photo of Kyle and me. I think I’m seventeen in the photo, so he’d be around six.
The way he smiles up at me with chubby adoration hits me hard.
Especially because mere seconds ago, I was kissing his wife in the driveway.
Fuck. This is a mind-fuck, and not the fun kind. Kyle is gone now, and Madison is free to kiss whoever she wants, including me. I just have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t a betrayal. It’s moving forward.
Madison walks ahead of me, into the family room. Not a lot of family stuff happened in here, other than me sitting on the couch to do my homework while Kyle watched cartoons.
I notice a new easy chair off to the side, and a built-in bookcase that wasn’t here before. But otherwise, the room appears untouched. Nothing alarming or out of place.
Madison has already gone into the kitchen. “Seth?”
“Yeah—did you find something?” I hurry in after her.
She holds up a piece of paper. “This is an itinerary for a trip.”
It’s a simple print-out, showing a calendar view, with different US cities listed on different days. If this is to be believed, my parents are somewhere around the Grand Canyon right now.
Yeah, right. No hotels are listed. If this were a true itinerary compiled by my mother, it would include hotel stays, confirmation numbers, and multiple restaurant reservations.
“This is fake,” I say. “I bet the kidnappers left it behind to throw off any concerns.”
“Is their car here?” Madison asks.
“Probably not, but we can look later. If I were making them disappear, that’s what I’d do.
Put out a road trip itinerary, pack a few things into their own luggage, and haul them off either in their own car, or bring someone else to drive it with us.
” I tap the itinerary. “Make it believable enough, and even if they’re missing work, nobody would think to call the police. ”
“Have you?” She takes a sip of her coffee. “Called the police, I mean?”
“Nove is better trained for this.” I fish my croissant out of its bag and take a bite. The buttery, flaky pastry is perfect, and I’m delighted to discover it’s filled with chocolate. I take another large bite, set down the coffee and croissant, and head to my parents’ room.
Everything looks almost right. The bed is made, but not how my mother always did it when I was a kid.
As a perfectionist, she always had the comforter straight, as well as the shams. Things are slightly off here, making me think Point Ops—if that’s who is behind this—grabbed them from their bed, then tried to make everything look normal afterward.
I pull back the duvet and see that the top sheet is wrinkled beneath it. My mother would never have done that.
Next, I go to their walk-in closet. I don’t know where they store their luggage, but this would be the logical place.
I see no suitcases anywhere. Getting down on the floor, I touch a bare spot beneath my father’s dress shirts.
Tiny indentations in the carpet tell me that a suitcase was stored here, but was recently moved.
“Does Nove make people disappear?” Madison asks in a voice that says she’s afraid of my answer.
“Not as a general rule, no.”
“That’s not really a no, then.” She sounds disapproving.
I turn to face her, placing my hands on her narrow shoulders. “We’re the good guys, Madison. I promise you. Anyone who disappears? They deserve it.”
“You aren’t a judge and jury. You can’t just hand out execution orders.”
“You’re right. But sometimes we don’t have the luxury of a justice system.
Sometimes we have a job to do, and no one else is around to help the helpless.
” I can see she’s still having doubts. “Everything Nove does, I firmly believe we would be not only exonerated, but applauded for, if it came to light. And we never go out with the intent of assassinating or disappearing anyone. I promise. We don’t take those jobs, and anyone who tries to hire us for something like that, we turn them down and let the appropriate departments know about the request.”
She stares at my parents’ bed. “When you find out who took your parents, will you disappear them?”
“I hope I don’t have to. I hope we can bring them in to the authorities and let the law take care of it. I’m not in the business of revenge.”
She nods, seemingly satisfied.
“I’ve seen all I need to see here.” I start to leave the room.
“Will you show me your old bedroom?”
Startled, I turn around. “It’s—I’m sure it isn’t at all like it was when I lived here. They probably turned it into a home gym or some shit like that.”
“Well, I can at least see the view you saw when you were a kid.”
My heart softens. “Yeah, sure, I’ll show you my old room.”
I take her hand and lead her down the hallway. My old bedroom door is open, revealing a quaint guest room. This is more to my mother’s standards, with a perfectly straight bedspread and shams, the nightstands on either side of the bed carefully dusted, the lamps centered exactly.
The curtains on the window are a light blue, matching the bedspread. I open my old dresser. The top drawers are completely empty, but I’m surprised to find some of my old baseball cards in the bottom drawer.
“Of course you collected baseball cards.” Madison’s voice is laced with amusement.
“It is America’s favorite pastime, after all.”
“Not mine.” She gives me a bratty look.
“Are you baiting me, little girl?”
She grins.