QUEST
Kacey’s house was in Frederick, about forty-five minutes outside the city. Four bedrooms, three baths, a backyard big enough for the kids to run around in. Thad had bought it for her when she was pregnant with their son, back when he was pretending to be a man who was building a future for his family. Now the man was gone and the house was still here and Kacey was holding it together on whatever savings she had and whatever I dropped off every few weeks. Not because I owed her anything, but because Thad’s kids didn’t ask for any of this shit and they shouldn’t suffer because their father was a piece of garbage.
“Uncle Quest!” Kalani launched herself at my legs.
“What’s good, princess?” I scooped her up and she immediately started telling me about a caterpillar she found at daycare that she named Gerald. She was three and had absolutely no chill and I loved this little girl in a way that reminded me I was still capable of softness even when the rest of my life was hard concrete.
Kacey appeared behind her, looking exhausted in her pajama with her hair in a bun and Thad Jr. on her hip. The boy was three months now and had his father’s face, which was unfortunate foreverybody because looking at him meant looking at Thad, and Thad was a subject I preferred to avoid.
“Hey, Quest. Come in.”
The house was the perfect size for a growing family. Toys in a bin by the couch, dishes done, candles burning on the counter. Kacey was a good mother. Thad hadn’t deserved her. He def didn’t deserve Mehar. I couldn’t keep her out of my thoughts.
I set Kalani down and she ran back to her coloring book on the floor. I handed Kacey an envelope with five thousand in cash.
“Quest, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I got you with whatever you need.”
She pressed her lips together and took the envelope and tucked it into the kitchen drawer where she kept the others. I’d been dropping off money every few weeks. She never asked for it, and she always protested, but then she always took it because pride doesn’t pay for diapers.
“Any news?” she asked, keeping her voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear. “About Thad?”
“I’m still looking, Kace. My people are on it.”
“It’s been months, Quest. Months. No body, no ransom, no contact. People don’t just disappear like that.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter and chose my next words carefully because this conversation was a minefield I walked through every time I came here. “I know it’s been a long time. And I know that’s frustrating. But Thad had enemies. He moved reckless, burned bridges, owed people. It’s possible somebody?—”
“It wasn’t enemies.” She cut me off, shaking her head. “I’ve been thinking about this every single day for six months and my gut is telling me this has something to do with a woman.”
“A woman.”
“He was cheating on me. I know he was. I could feel it. The late nights, the phone face down, the showers as soon as he walked through the door. I’m not stupid, Quest.”
“Nobody said you were stupid.”
“I’ve been trying to get into his Apple ID. His laptop is here, and if I can get into his iCloud I can pull his messages, his location history, everything. I just need the password.” She was leaning forward now with that desperate energy that grief produces when it doesn’t have a target. “Don’t you know people who can hack into that kind of thing? You’ve got resources. You’ve got tech people.”
“Kacey, Apple security is damn near impossible to crack. Even the feds have trouble getting into those accounts.” It was a lie and we both knew it smelled like one. My people could get into anything with enough time and the right motivation. But letting Kacey access Thad’s messages was letting her walk directly toward a truth that could set her sights on Mehar.
“I know he was cheating on me,” she said, her voice dropping to something low and steady and certain. “And whoever that woman is—she knows something about what happened to him. I can feel it. I’m gonna find out, Quest. With or without your help.”
Thad Jr. started fussing on her hip and she bounced him absently, still staring at me with eyes that were tired but sharp. Kacey was smarter than people gave her credit for. She didn’t have the resources to find Mehar, but she had instincts that were pointing her in exactly the right direction, and that made her dangerous in a way she didn’t even realize.
“I’m still looking,” I said. “I promise.”
She held my gaze for a beat too long. “Sure,” she said. And the way she said it told me she was done waiting for my version of the truth.
I kissed Kalani on the forehead, dapped up Thad Jr. even though he just stared at me with his father’s eyes, and left.
In the car, I sat for a minute thinking about timelines. Mehar needed to give up Thad’s body. The longer that cage existed, the more exposure it created for everybody—her, me, Prime, Zainab, the whole family. If we had a body, I could frame one of Thad’s actual enemies for the death. Clean it up. Give Kacey closure, even if it was manufactured closure. But Mehar wasn’t letting go, and pushing her too hard would push her away entirely, and I had personal reasons now for not wanting that to happen.
Personal reasons I wasn’t ready to examine too closely.
I pulled onto the highway and remembered the Audemars. My Royal Oak, the one with the blue dial that Rita had given me for my twenty-first birthday, was still at the penthouse in the watch case on my dresser. I’d grabbed most of my things when I moved out, but the watches and a few suits were still there. I’d been meaning to go back for them, but the idea of walking into a space that used to be mine and now belonged to an ex-girlfriend I’d given it to out of guilt was not exactly motivating.
But that watch was worth sixty thousand dollars, and Rita’s initials were engraved on the back. I wasn’t leaving it there another day.
