Shit’s about to hit the fan.
“Did you find something new?” I ask.
Ricky nods. “Diego’s been wanting to stakeout that coffee shop Shauna’s guy pinged for where Pandora’s account got hacked. I thought it was a longshot because so many people go in and out of that place all day, but I finally gave him the okay. And, well, turns out D’s hunch might’ve been right.”
My brow tenses, feeling the stress creep right back into the room.
“Something interesting happened,” Ricky continues. “Turns out April Lawson frequents the shop often. Like,every single morningoften.”
I sit straighter in my seat, trying to process what he’s suggesting. But before I get the chance to wrap my head around it, he shoots a concerned look Sterling’s way.
“Three of the seven days she showed up… she wasn’t alone. She was meeting up with Tiff.”
Ricky’s words linger in the air, but they aren’t sitting with anyone as heavily as they’re sitting with Sterling.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says, letting out a nervous chuckle the next second, but the smile fades quickly. “What the hell are you trying to say?”
Ricky puts his hands up. “I’m not saying a word. All I’m doing is conveying information. Do with it what you will.”
Sterling drops back, letting his back rest against the wall as he sways the cue back and forth while he thinks. “You’re saying Tiff is Pandora? That’s bullshit.”
“Like I said, I’m not trying to say anything. Just conveying info.”
“Fuck this,” Sterling snaps, placing the cue back on the rack. He grabs his phone and keys off the table next. “Look, I’ll be the first to say Tiffany isn’t perfect, but she’s not capable of shit like that.”
“I never said she was,” Ricky says gently, taking a step toward Sterling. “But… is it possible Tiff’s unknowingly feeding April information? Confiding in her, thinking they’re friends?”
Sterling doesn’t say a word, but he’s clearly reeling. “Thanks for dinner, Grandpa,” he says, flexing his jaw when he gets tense.
Then, the next second, he’s gone without a single word to the rest of us.
Chase returns to a silent, tense room. There’s so much that will have to go unsaid for now, but you can feel the shift in the air.
Grandpa stands, taking control of the space again.
“All right, gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed dinner, but I think it’s time to call it a night. West has an appointment bright and early, and I want him to get a good night’s sleep.”
His announcement has the guys gathering their things without protest. Grandpa is bombarded with hugs and handshakes, then we walk upstairs to let them out, and now it’s just us. We straighten the kitchen with very few words exchanged between us, maybe both thinking how tonight brought just as much fun and peace as it did stress.
But I’m starting to think that’s just how life works.
You have to take the good with the bad, the ups with the down.
We shut the house down and lock up, and I find myself back on the living room couch, staring at the ceiling like I’ve done so many nights lately. Just to torture myself, I check my phone.
No calls.
No texts.
But that doesn’t stop me from sending one of my own. It’s a redundant message, but I’m beyond caring if my wife knows I’m desperate. Dignity is a thing of the past at this point.
West: I love you. I miss you. Please call…
I close my eyes and drift off waiting for a response, knowing I’ll be awake again in an hour or two, tossing and turning.
As much as it hurts, as weary as I am, I won’t give up.
*
