Half an hour after that, he sat in the recliner enjoying a slice of pie as well.
“You survived my mother’s inquisition.” He’d left last night—not long after she had. I’d asked him to stay, but he’d said he had something to do early in the morning and hadn’t wanted to wake me. I was pretty certain I could sleep through just about anything…but I’d also wondered if he’d needed space after the intense interrogation from my mother.
Now, twenty-four hours later, he was back. But he kept gazing at me—as if trying to take my measure.
“I have some news.” I poked my pie.
“I do as well, but why don’t you go first?”
“Sure. I, uh, think I stopped Michael from buying drugs today. I mean, he says he wasn’t…”
“You don’t believe him.”
“I don’t believe him. And I can’t imagine I’ve dissuaded him from doing it again in the future.”
“Ah. What did you see?”
I shrugged. “An older white guy looking like he didn’t belong. Some kind of furtive movements—I just charged over there. Scared the guy off, that’s for sure. If he had a legitimate reason for being there, he would’ve said something, right?”
“Yes, very likely.” He put his plate on the side table. He’d devoured the pie. “And Michael?”
“Claimed I’d misunderstood.”
“Teenagers are tricky.”
“What do you mean?”
“Might there have been another reason for them meeting?”
I scrunched my nose. “Christ, I hope not. The guy was older than me. Bad enough if he’s coming around with drugs.”
“Did you tell the cops?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t tell Mr. Clayton either. Hell, I couldn’t even give a good description of the guy. Brown hair. Nondescript face. Average height and weight. Nothing remarkable about him.”
“Those guys do make the best dealers.”
“Right? I know a guy who’s got a scar on his face. He’d make a terrible criminal because he’d be easy to describe. And Michael didn’t confirm he was buying drugs. At best, it would’ve been my word against his.”
“You’re the adult.”
“Who’s upset after David’s death and seeing bad stuff everywhere.”
Ulysses cocked his head.
“This is totally irrelevant—but Giancarlo didn’t turn up at work. And didn’t call in sick. I can’t remember him ever doing that. I wanted to go over to his place, but we were slammed. Miriam has a key from the last time he was away and she watered his plants. She was planning to check on him. I should’ve gone, but I had basketball practice.”
“What did she find?”
“Nothing. She texted me that he wasn’t there and nothing looked amiss. She called the hospital and—”
“I know where he is.”
I shook my head, as if trying to clear my thoughts. “I’m sorry, did you just say you know where Giancarlo is?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me that straightaway? Like when you walked in the door?”
