Okay, she hadn’t said anything bad. She was only calling to tell him that she was there, waiting for him. Jon smiled as he set down his phone. His smile vanished when he realized that he hadn’t seen her car when he’d pulled up.
“Casey,” he shouted. He walked out of the kitchen and made his way down the hall toward the guest bedroom she was staying in. “Casey,” he called through the door, rapping his knuckles against it.
“Come in.”
Her voice sounded off, and as Jon twisted the knob and pushed his way inside, he glimpsed her reflection in the mirror. She sat on the edge of the bed, her head hanging low. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” As he approached her, she lifted her head and he could see by her bloodshot eyes that she had been crying. Fear gripped him. “Are Mom and Dad okay?”
Christ, if anything had happened to either of them, he’d lose his shit.
Casey waved away his question. “They’re fine,” she croaked.
Jon breathed a sigh of relief and lowered himself down beside her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and asked, “Then what’s wrong? Does this have anything to do with Mike? I can break his kneecaps if you want me to.” That earned him a small smile.
“Mike and I are fine. Mom and Dad are fine.” She sniffled.
“Then what’s going on?” Just like when they were kids, Jon turned on his big brother charm and gave her a little noogie.
“Damn it, Jon,” Casey laughed, pushing him away. She smoothed her damp hair and her shoulders slumped again.
“Come on, C, talk to me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what needs fixing.” Jon couldn’t help but to glance at the clock sitting on the nightstand. He did a mental calculation. Patricia had called almost twenty minutes ago. He was fighting with everything in him not to run and call her back. Right now, Casey needed him.
“If I tell you,” Casey said, her big, round blue eyes lifting to meet his, “promise you won’t kill me?”
Jon bumped his shoulder against hers. “I promise not to kill you, unless you deleted my games from the DVR. Then all bets are off.”
He didn’t get the reaction out of her he was looking for. Casey dropped her head and hunched her shoulders again. Sucking in a deep breath, she lifted her hand from her lap and held it out to him.
Glancing down at it, Jon realized that it wasn’t her hand she was offering him, but what was in it. He took the small box from her outstretched palm. “What’s this? You got me a present?”
Casey shook her head and her voice trembled as she said, “A woman stopped by while you were gone.”
Dawning washed over him and Jon nodded. “Yeah, that was probably Patricia, the woman I told you about. ‘The One.’” He grinned, his eyes glued to the box now resting on his thigh. “She called to tell me she was here. Why didn’t you let her in?”
Casey met his questioning gaze and looked positively shameful. “She was here. I did ask her to come in, but, Jon…” Her voice drifted off and Jon froze, his eyes fixed on her as dread began to seep into his veins. “I think she got the wrong impression.”
“How did she get the wrong impression?” he asked, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. He looked down at the box again, and his hands trembled as he touched the lid. What was inside?
Casey pressed her fingers to her lips and tears shed down her pale cheeks. “I was in the shower—”
“Oh Jesus.” Jon jumped off the bed and began pacing the room. Behind him, Casey spouted frantic words at him. He captured bits and pieces. She answered the door in a towel. She didn’t know who she was. Something about the box. Then she’d left, looking really upset.
“Ya think, Casey?” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air as he rounded on her. “She comes to my house and a woman she’s never met answers my door in a fucking towel, and you think she might have been upset?”
Jon stormed from the room. Casey continued sobbing and apologizing to his retreating form, but he didn’t give a damn about her apologies or hurt feelings at the moment. All Jon knew was that his woman had come for him and now she was gone. He grabbed his keys and his phone on the way out the door.
25
“I’ve tried calling her, but her phone is turned off. Please, Jules, if you know where she is, tell me.” Jon pleaded with Patricia’s best friend, desperate to find her. He’d already called her phone a hundred times over. The fact that they hadn’t been together long was finally setting in, as was the knowledge that he really didn’t know anything about her.
He knew her father was dead, but he’d never met her mother. He knew of her friends, had met them briefly, but he didn’t know where to find them or how to get a hold of any of them. Then he’d had an epiphany. He knew Tate, he knew Felix, and both men had women who were in tight with Patricia and her group. They were her friends.
Since he and Tate had been friends since childhood, and since they had recently reconnected after a falling out, he contacted him first, and it had paid off. Tate didn’t know where to look for Patricia, but his wife did.
She gave him the number for her friend, Jules, who he remembered as the woman he’d met at their baby shower. He called her immediately, but she was proving difficult.
“Well, Jon,” she said smartly, “if her phone is off, then I’m guessing she doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“I get that,” Jon responded, being as calm as he could manage when he was hanging over the edge of the proverbial cliff by his fingernails. “But it’s a misunderstanding. I need to talk to her so we can clear it up. Just tell me where she is.”
“I can’t. It seems my psychic abilities are on the fritz today.”
Jon gritted his teeth. “Can you just take a guess, please? I’m begging here. I need to talk to her.”
“Mmm, I like a man who knows how to beg,” she purred, but her mood changed in the next instant, like the snap of a whip. “Look, Jon, I feel for your situation, I really do, but I can’t just hand out my friend’s personal information to a stranger. Especially when it’s a stranger who she’s trying to avoid, apparently. You’re going to have to come up with something better. Persuade me. Why should I tell you anything?”
Jon pushed his fingers through his hair as he scoured his brain for something to tell her that might sway her. He was sitting in his truck, parked in the middle of a doctor’s office parking lot where he’d stopped to think after driving around the city for over an hour searching for Patricia. He’d gone to her house first, already knowing she wouldn’t be there. Then he’d swung by Carnal, since that was the place they first met, but it was still closed and there was no sign of her car anywhere. That was it, he was at a total loss, and now he was here, on the phone with her friend, the only option he had left.
No thoughts came to him, and he blew out a heavy breath. What could he say to her to make her give him something, anything that might help him find her friend? Unlike him, she didn’t have anything to lose.
His gaze fell to where his right hand clenched the gearshift. Then he looked to the passenger seat where the tiny box sat. He’d tossed it there when he’d first climbed behind the wheel, having been too preoccupied with getting to Patricia rather than seeing what was inside. Now, curiosity arrested him. She had left it behind with Casey to give to him. He couldn’t imagine what was inside of it. It didn’t look like the kind of box that would hold jewelry, but he was certain that whatever it was, it would be invaluable to him.