Relief loosened the receptionist’s shoulders.She smiled back and pushed herself back from the desk.
“Sure,” she said.“It’s right this way.”
Cloister glanced down at Bon, sacked out at his feet, and nudged her shoulder with his boot.She gave an abortive yawn, flicking her tongue over her lips unhappily as the gesture stung it, and got to her feet.They fell into step behind the receptionist.
She led him through the open-plan office behind her into a larger, dimly lit storage space at the back of the building.Racks of shelves, stacked with boxes, were pushed against the walls, and two vans were parked in the bays at the front.Despite the failure of anyone to answer the receptionist's calls, there were a handful of staff milling around.They looked vaguely alarmed at the intrusion and hunched down over their monitors.
Fowler’s desk was at the back, tucked away from the rest.He had “accommodations,” the receptionist explained vaguely.She hovered awkwardly next to him, not sure what to do with her hands, as he looked the desk over.
“Do you need anything else?”she asked.
“A coffee would be great,” Cloister said.
The receptionist gawped at him for a second as she tried to work out how to navigate that.Her eyebrows knotted together as she stalled her way through an “um” and an “oh” before customer service took over.
“I can do that,” she said and took a step back.
Her foot brushed against Bon’s tail, and she hopped to the side.
“Sorry,” she told Bon.Then, “Sorry,” to Cloister before she walked briskly away.
That gave Cloister the opportunity to stare blankly at the desk.Now that he had access, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for.His remit when it came to searches was usually drugs or dead bodies, but not clues.He pulled a chair over to sit down and had a quick sift through the paperwork on Brian’s desk.Work orders and leave requests.
The drawers were empty, except for a stash of energy bars and protein drink sachets.They were all numbered with Sharpie.
Cloister had just closed the door and started to feel under the desk when a soft whine from Bon caught his attention.He brushed the detritus of some dried-up gum off his hands and looked in the same direction her ears were pointed.
Just as Reid Lassiter stood between the desks, a box pulled off the shelves held awkwardly on his hip as he talked to the receptionist.Whatever she said made him grimace and shake his head, resulting in her reaching out to squeeze his upper arm with the hand not holding coffee.
Cloister pushed the chair back, wheels catching on the rough carpeted tiles, and headed over in that direction.
As he reached them, Reid’s face flushed and then blanched.He took an awkward step back, arms tightening on the box.
“Deputy Witte,” he said stiffly.“I was just um…telling Jessie here that Miles is still missing.
Jessie looked from Reid to Witte.Then her eyes tracked over to Fowler’s desk.
“Is that why you’re here?”she asked Cloister.Despite her sympathy of a second ago, her voice had the distinct excitement of the gossip mill as she asked, “Did Fowler have something to do with this?”
Reid dropped the box in his arms.
“What?”
Thecoffeethatthereceptionist brought back turned out to be useful after all.
Reid sat in his car outside, cup cradled in both hands, and shook his head.
“I don’t…maybe?”he answered Cloister’s “did you know him” with a helpless shrug.“I know Jessie, mostly I deal with her, and Dan, he’s the senior partner.Sometimes they aren’t here, and one of the engineers steps in.Sometimes it’s one I’ve seen before, but usually it’s not.There’s high turnover.I don’t know if I’ve met him.Why would he do this?Why haven’t I heard anything?It should be on the news.I’ve seen those appeals before.”
Cloister held his hand out in a calming way.“Mr.Lassiter, I assure you, everything we’re doing is to try and make sure Miles comes home to you.”
“Only if ‘we’ means you and that FBI agent,” Reid said.“I’ve not seen anyone else care about Miles.Why isn’t this front page news?”
“Missing people rarely are,” Cloister said.“Not my call.”
Reid let his breath out shakily and looked at the cup in his hands.“I’ve got an appointment at the Humane Society this weekend,” he said.“So he’ll come home, and I’ll have the cat.Stupid.It’s just I never thought we’d get here.I loved him from the start, but he always kept me at a distance.He kept everyone at a distance, like he had a mail box so he didn’t have to give anyone his address.Then a couple of years ago, it was like…he just decided this was it.I didn’t ask why.I didn’t care.I figured maybe he had an ex he was scared of or something, but I didn’t want to ask and spook him.So he’s got to be OK, right?You can’t just have everything in your life fall into place like that, and then it just come apart again.Right?”
“Cats are good company,” Cloister said.
