Page 35 of Craft Brew


Font Size:

“He threaten you again?”

“Not so much. He showed up at Gravity.”

Cam’s arm gave out and he sagged front first into the wall, banging his forehead on the plaster. “Fuck me.”

“Listen, Cam. Aidan and Moore have my back now too, in addition to Mel and Lauren. We got this. Now, tell me how it’s going there with your mom.”

He flattened his palm and counted to ten, biting back the argument on the tip of his tongue. Nic was right. He had all the team assembled there except him and Jamie, who were here. If they really needed them, they’d say so, Aidan especially. Didn’t make it any easier knowing the guy he was falling for could make one wrong move and Cam would be across the country where he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But fucking argue. And what the fuck good was that going to do at three in the morning but piss the both of them off.

He took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. “She’s fine. Bypass surgery went as well as could be expected. Now we wait for her to stabilize before they assess if another operation is needed.”

“That’s good. What about Erin’s case? You and Jamie make any progress?”

He dragged his feet back across the hallway and collapsed again into the chair, waving at the nurses on the way out of his mother’s room. “We were at the Family Justice Center today, going through old missing persons cases. Trying to find links.”

“You didn’t do all that before?” Nic asked.

“Yes, I did, but fresh eyes and a fresh list from Mom.”

“Your mom?”

“It’s been her pet project the past year. She’s been making notes and missing persons lists in her old romance novels.”

“No shit?” The admiration in Nic’s voice made Cam smile.

“No shit, and you’ll never guess who one of the names was.” He didn’t keep him in suspense long. “Rebecca Wright.”

“You’re shit—” He cut himself off, and Cam could picture Nic drumming his fingers on the nearest surface, deep in thought. “Actually, I remember that. There was a missing persons report in her file.”

“From when she was fourteen. Two years older than Erin.”

“But she didn’t stay missing. False alarm as far as we understood.”

“And the two matters are probably unconnected but given her similar appearance and age when she disappeared . . .”

“You want me to question her?”

“If you’ve got time.”

“I’ll make time.”

That feeling of being too far from shore walloped Cam again. The anchor was right there but out of reach, the current pulling him back the other way. Unfortunately, he had to go with the current, back out to sea for the time being, especially with Bobby and Keith stepping off the elevator at the end of the hall. “Fuck, I gotta go.”

“Everything okay?”

“Keith just got here,” he said, standing.

“Good, go get some sleep.”

The genuine concern in Nic’s voice tamped down his instinct to snark. “Thank you for following up,” he said instead, meaning it both ways. “And let me know what Becca says.”

“Of course. Later, Boston.”

“Bye for now,” Cam replied, and the words felt wrong the second they left his mouth.

Nic hung up before he could correct them. But would giving his usual sign-off be fair? Could he answer Sooner, Price, when he had no idea when sooner would be?

“You look like you ate something sour,” Bobby said.