Mr. Max rubbed his trimmed beard, scratching at his jaw as if something bothered him. Then he rounded the table and gently pulled her up from her stool. “Theo was afraid.”
She gripped his arm. She didn’t even know she’d reached out, but suddenly she was pulling on his muscular forearm, squeezing his solid strength. “Afraid? Why? And how would he know that?”
“He smelled—I mean, he talked to some kids. They said he seemed spooked or something.”
“Which kids?”
He reached for her coat and handed it to her. His expression had tightened down, telling her that he didn’t want to say more. “It’s not something to get alarmed about.” He spoke with a calm assurance that she wanted desperately to believe. “Boys his age get scared all the time. I know a guy who used to completely freak every time a girl talked to him.”
“That’s not Theo.”
“I know. I know.” He pressed his hand over hers where she was still clutching his arm. One hand and it covered her two with gentle ease. “My friend is going to meet us at your apartment. He’ll tell us everything there.”
She swallowed. “Maybe I should call the police.”
“No.” One word, barked more than spoken. Then he huffed out a breath when she stared at him in alarm. “They won’t do anything for twenty-four hours.”
“But he’s a kid. They can put out an amber alert?—”
“Let’s just go talk to Bryn, okay? It’s too early to panic.”
Easy for him to say. She’d been panicking for hours now. “Okay,” she finally said. She wanted to see this investigator for herself.
Bryn turned out to be a long, lean man with narrow eyes and a habit of sniffing things. He was subtle about it, but she could see his nose twitch in an animalistic kind of way. It was creepy as hell and she wouldn’t have let him in her apartment if Mr. Max hadn’t already swung the door wide for him.
“Hey, Bryn. This is Rebecca Weitz, Theo’s aunt and guardian.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Weitz. Don’t you worry about Theo. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he’ll come through this just fine.”
At least he was a polite weirdo. Then his words penetrated her mind and she spoke a little more sharply than she intended. “Come through what, exactly? What do you think happened?”
Mr. Max answered quickly, clearly trying to calm her frazzled nerves. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Just that you shouldn’t worry.”
Oh no. No way was he playing big protector now, telling her not to worry like she was Ma Kettle in the wild frontier. “I’ll decide when I worry, thank you very much. And I would really like to hear what Mr. Bryn meant. Exactly.” Nothing like pulling out a guy’s full name to make him respond.
“It’s Bryn Walsh, ma’am, and, um, Theo’s fifteen, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s a little young to be…uh, wandering off, but it’s not that unusual. Shows he’s mature for his age.”
“Make sense, Mr. Walsh.”
“Look…,” he said as he stepped farther into the apartment. Then his eyes darted to a sweatshirt dumped casually onto the back of the couch. Picking it up, he brought it to his nose and spoke through the muffling fabric. “This his?”
“What the hell are you?—”
Mr. Max interrupted. “He’s tracking, Becca. I know it’s…odd…but it’s what he does.”
Bryn shot Mr. Max a dark look, but he didn’t stop sniffing the sweatshirt while wandering the living room. By the time he eased open Theo’s bedroom door, Becca had her cell out to call the cops.
Mr. Max was there before her, grabbing her wrist and lifting the phone from her hand. “Just give him a moment. Please.” He was clearly giving her an order despite his polite phrasing. She agreed, mostly because she didn’t have much of a choice. Though when Bryn stuck his sniffer into her bedroom, she just about exploded. Fortunately, he didn’t say there long. He stepped back out and eyed Mr. Max.
“She’s Theo’s guardian?”
“And only living relative,” Mr. Max answered.
“Then you better bring her into the fold because Theo’s definitely about to pop.”
