“You don’t have to worry about us at all,” Josie says.
“You two could be the Black Widow and Wonder Woman and we’d still worry.” Niki stands up. “You done? I want to pick upsome food. Mom had to work later today, and I don’t want her to have to cook.”
“I’m ready.” Andy shoves all her stuff inside a backpack that Niki slings over his shoulder.
“How’s my Jules doing?” I ask. Back when Niki and Andy were first seeing each other, he spent a lot of time running around trying to clean up after Andy’s mom. While he was fixing stuff, I played big brother to Jules, which mostly just meant making her mac and cheese and reading bedtime stories. She’s a sweet kid.
“She barely remembers you,” Niki says. “I’m back to being her favorite.”
“He’s lying. She asks after you all the time because Niki doesn’t do the character voices as well as you.” Andy elbows Niki in the side.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” Niki complains.
“Jules’.” She leans down. “After we are done with the rave, come over, and we’ll have grilled cheese sandwiches and sugar water. You can read the dragon book to her. Niki and I’ve done it about three times each, and we need a break.”
“True. I’m tapped out.”
“It’s a date. I’ll bring Josie, and we can act out the parts. You up for that, rebel?”
“All in.” She grins.
After Niki and Andy leave, we pack up too. Josie confirms she had dinner, so we head right home. Halfway there, her phone rings.
“It’s Shane.” She shows me the screen. “He must have found something.” She takes the call, and I try to be nonchalant about a guy like Shane having Josie’s phone number. It’s not easy, but I manage to keep myself from kicking down a stop sign at the street corner.
“Thanks, Shane.” She hangs up and taps her phone against her palm. “Cole’s dad reported him missing two days ago, and the police came around today to ask questions to the basketball team. They told the police that I was asking questions.”
“I’m not a fan of that.”
“Shane gave Cole’s dad my number. He’s going to call me any min—” The phone cuts her off. Cole’s dad, Tim, is brief. He wants Josie to come out to the house and give him all the information she’s gathered. She couldn’t say no.
My truck is a ten-year-old Toyota Tacoma with missing front pillar panels. The lock mechanism is broken, and the air conditioning doesn’t work. We crank down the windows and turn up the music.
“I’m not giving him the notebook,” Josie says as I approach Cole’s property.
“I agree. Just tell him what you remember.”
“Do you think he’ll ask for it?”
“I wouldn’t even let him know you have one. Just leave it in the car.”
“We should’ve run by the house so I could look up the school records and see what notes were in there on Cole’s dad.”
I look at the black metal mailbox mounted on a thin cedar post. “Do you want me to turn around?”
“No, let’s go in.”And get it over with, her tone says.
Cole’s dad’s property looks like an old farmstead without any animals. It’s hard to know where the property ends as there’s no visible fencing. There are a couple outbuildings in the back, but they’re rundown. There’s no sign of any animals, not even a dog. The lawn around the house is neatly trimmed, and despite the age of the house, it too, is in good condition.
Cole’s dad walks onto the porch and watches as I slow to a stop at the end of the gravel drive. “I’ll get your door,” I tell Josie.
I can feel Tim’s eyes on me the entire time. When we reach the steps, a heavy weight seems to settle around our shoulders. There are deep lines on Tim’s face around his mouth and eyes. I wonder if he has always had those or whether news of his son’s disappearance has aged him.
He motions for us to go inside. The first room is a living room with a brown leather oversized sofa and lounge chair. The chair has a dent in it from Tim’s body. “Can I get you kids anything?”
“No, we’re good,” I start to say, but then Josie interrupts.
“Actually, I’d take a glass of water.” She heads down the hall to the kitchen confidently, as if she’s been here before. Tim looks a little flustered but follows behind her. The kitchen is as neat as the exterior. A small wooden table is pushed up against the wall. A pile of napkins sits in the center, weighed down by an iron in the shape of an X. Next to the sink, one plate, one set of silverware, and a clear glass sit in a drying rack.
