Page 361 of A Matter of Time

“Dane, I’m sure the police are working all the angles to find who did this to Sam, I’m just working my own since I’m the only one who knows who the carjackers are.”

“Jory—”

“I’m not coming home until I figure this out, Dane, so just…do me a favor and watch over Sam, all right? I took care of Aja, now it’s your turn to watch over him.”

“Jory—”

“I love you,” I said, and hung up and then turned off the phone. I wasn’t taking a chance on anyone tracing my burner.

It reminded me of living at the YMCA, and then with the four other guys I lived with when I first moved to the city. I had always been cold, both places smelled, and the rooms had been dirty. Sitting in a cramped position watching the liquor store, alternating between using the binoculars and not, I realized how boring stakeouts were in real life. They always looked fun in the movies, but lots of things looked like more fun in the movies.

I had to go out for food, but since nothing looked particularly appetizing, I ended up at the liquor store myself, buying water, Red Bull, and lots of different granola bars and pretzels. I had lived through an entire summer once on ramen noodles and pretzels. Both had the same makeup as dog kibble—they expanded with water in your stomach. After three days, though, I remembered why I didn’t eat either anymore.

I kept the phone off because I didn’t want it tracked, got a new one, broke the old one into pieces, and checked in daily with Dane. My only other calls were to the hospital to get status reports on Sam. That Sunday though, I called everyone so they wouldn’t worry. I called Dylan and apologized for not being at work, but she told me not to worry about anything.

I called Aaron to tell him I was all right, and he was worried and wanted to talk more, but I simply couldn’t. I called Regina to check in, and Evan, but I kept everything short.

I called Aubrey and told her that I wouldn’t be in on Monday, and probably for longer than that, but I wasn’t sure. I had sent her all my work, though, having completed all my open cases from home the week prior. I had emailed them all from my laptop at home to the office before I left. She was thrilled that she was covered, appreciated me pulling my weight, but then fell into begging me to come home.

“Jory, honey, you’re scaring the crap out of all of us. Every policeman in the city is on the lookout for you, and Sam… Sam’s gonna be awake soon, and when you’re not there, he’s gonna⁠—”

“Sam needs me to find this guy, Abe, and I finally realize that it’s up to me. Nobody else cares as much as I do, so… But I know you didn’t sign on to be the sole proprietor of Harvest Design, so if you wanna just close the office until I⁠—”

“No, honey. I quit Barrington. I want to work with you and Dyl full time, if you think that⁠—”

“I would love that. What’d Dyl say?”

“Jory, don’t you think, considering the circumstances, that we should maybe talk about this in⁠—”

“She was stoked, right?”

“God, your words. What is this, the fifth grade?”

“Yes,” I teased her.

“Jory, she thought it was a great idea, so I think⁠—”

“Thanks, Abe. You’re making a good decision. I swear.”

“Jory Harcourt, I just found you! I love and adore you, and if anything happens to you, I just don’t⁠—”

“It’s gonna be okay. Now look out for Dyl and take care of the office. I’ll be home soon.”

“Jor—”

But I cut her off when I hung up and turned off the phone.

I called the hospital three times a day, and various nurses explained that Sam was doing well. Still sleeping a lot, which promoted healing, and that was for the best.

Around ten the following night, on Monday, I was finally rewarded for my vigilance. I saw one of the carjackers stroll into the liquor store while his friend waited outside and smoked a cigarette. I left my phone in the room and took the five flights of stairs down and out the back door to the street.

The street was crawling with people—dealers were on every corner, hustlers were clustered in doorways, and a little farther down were hookers in various stages of spandex and varying heights of heels. Hard to strut on wet sidewalks in four-inch stilettos. And even though I loved to prowl around at night, it was different in the part of town I was in, and all alone. I realized that between my man, my friends, and my family, I was never alone anymore. I had gotten used to being a part of a network of people. It was weird to think it was just me for now.

“Hey.” I greeted the guy standing outside, leaning against the window of the liquor store.

He looked up at me warily. “Hey.”

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my peacoat. “Do you remember me?”