Page 19 of Heart of the Race

FIVE

Iwaited around the next morning, but by the time noon rolled around, I was wishing I had taken Graham up on his offer to spend the night with him instead of going home. But I had promised Aidric I would be there, so I was going to be a stand-up guy; it was kind of annoying to get blown off when I could have gotten blown the night before.

As I was heading out to meet Graham for a late lunch, Varro’s number appeared on my caller ID.

“Hey.” I smiled into the phone. “This is weird timing.”

He cleared his throat. “Bri.”

I waited, but there was only silence, and because of that, I stopped on the cobblestone path between my little pale-blue California bungalow and the street. Varro was never quiet. He was big and loud and vibrant and… that was missing. “V?”

“Did you talk to Aidric?”

“What?”

“Just—did you?”

“Varro?”

“Brian!”

“No, I mean, we talked, but he was going to— Where are you?”

No answer.

But because I knew him so well, so thoroughly, I understood. “What did you do? Come chasing after Aidric?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did. Where is he?”

He coughed softly. “He went back to his farm this morning.”

“Because you what? Threatened him?”

“What?” His voice went up way too high.

Uh-huh. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Varro lied, and because I knew him, I could tell.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the airport.”

I absorbed that. “If you were leaving, why didn’t you just go?”

He was silent again.

“V?”

“I just thought it was a shame to come all the way from Malta and not say hello.”

“I would think so,” I huffed. “God, you’re an ass.”

“Me?” he flared. “What about you?”

“I haven’t done anything!” I was incredulous.