“Mr. Everton, we’re treating this as a high-risk missing persons case, and we’re doing everything...”
“I already told you the guy could’ve killed David Rosen, and now he has my wife. You have the descriptions, isn’t that enough to get in your car and find them?”
The officer I’m speaking to is young and it’s clear he hasn’t been on the job for long. I’d say only a few months. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has to flip through a police procedures manual to figure out what to do next. Shouldn’t there be a crime scene investigator here, or a detective? Why is this so half-assed?
“Does your wife have a cell phone on her?”
“I already told you, she left it inside her purse, which is in my office. No, she doesn’t have her goddamn cell phone on her!”
“Cove, calm down. They’re trying their best to help us,” my mother frowns at my impatience. What does she expect? I can’t stand sitting on my ass doing nothing, but no one will let me leave. I’m trapped and suffocating in this room. “Cove, darling, breathe. Your face is turning red. Breathe.”
The cop raises his hand in the air as a warning that I need to calm down while my father walks over after hearing my disturbed tone.
“Cove, I still have Marcus’s number saved on my cell. The police are trying to contact him now and Detective Ferguson, who’s been working on David’s case, is on his way. If Marcus is the new head of Jameson Industries, he’ll be easy to find. He can’t just abandon the business and leave his house and everything else behind. He’ll have to go to Vegas at some point.”
“Not with Sophia.”
My father doesn’t respond. He stares straight ahead, his eyes on the city streets, thinking, perhaps trying to find the right words to console me, only nothing comes.
“I need to be searching for my wife and not playing the waiting game inside the bar. I’ve never felt so dependent on another person in my life. I need her, and I’m at the mercy of whatever it is that Marcus Wild wants,” I say to my parents.
My father understands, and I realize what I’m feeling must be close to how he felt when Paul would take me away. Only, I have no idea what’s happening to Sophia or where she is, and because of that, my imagination gets the best of me.
“The police should have his real name soon and it will be easier to track him... track them, down.”
I nod and close my eyes while my fingers massage my forehead. The afternoon and evening with Marcus repeats in my head. He asked what Soph was going to do with the money, then he followed us in the city, showed up at the restaurant, and then here. He wanted me, he touched me, asked me about my friendship with Hav, criticized my marriage and the way I treated my wife, and then he took her away. And whatever happened to that guy, Evan, the one that kept texting her. Was he here tonight?
“What?” my father asks. “You’re thinking about something.”
“Something’s off about Marcus. There’s no reason for him to take Sophia. He’s spent the past two days fucking with me, not her.”
“He wants the check, Cove.”
“He could’ve had it earlier. Last night as well. He’s not after the money.”
“Then what?”
Detective Ferguson walks through the door, his black raincoat dripping with water, and his skin’s cold and wet as he shakes my hand.
“I wasn’t serious last night when I asked you if I’d be back here again today, Mr. Everton.”
“This isn’t a joke,” I reply with a face of distress. His smile disappears as he takes a seat at the table and pulls his wet pants away from his skin.
“You’re right, I apologize. I didn’t mean to treat this subject lightheartedly,” he says. “Let me get to the reason for my visit. You mentioned to an officer earlier that you believe this man who exited with your wife may have killed David Rosen?”
“Marcus didn’t exit with my wife, he pulled her by her wrist out the door and yanked her into a car.”
“Well, we’re getting mixed reports on that scene.”
“I was the one who had my eyes on him the entire time, no one else. My wife pushed him away and he restrained her.”
The detective lifts his chin and scratches his neck with his lips puckered out as if he’s looking for a distraction from my words. It wouldn’t surprise me if his next move were to put his feet up and lean back in his chair.
“As I was saying,” he continues. “There’s no evidence of foul play relating to David’s death and I’m confident the autopsy results will affirm it was a suicide. ‘Marcus Wild’ was found in David’s list of contacts on his phone, and the two were supposed to have a meeting together the evening David took his life. That was also scheduled on David’s cell. We’ve already contacted him, questioned him, and he’s in the clear.”
“Why would he...” I exhale and shake my head. “Damn him, I can’t comprehend...”
My father scoots his chair closer to the table and takes my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. I know both my parents are just as concerned as me, but they’re keeping their wits about themselves for my sake. My emotions are teetering between an angry outburst, in which case I might use my fist to break this new window next to us, or curling into the fetal position under the table and wailing like a baby who’s unable to communicate his needs.
The Detective’s voice pulls me out of the violent and depressing images in my head and back into the conversation.
“Marcus arrived in St. Louis hours after David’s death. It’s all documented with the airlines and he’s on the airport security cameras getting off his flight. I don’t know why you believe he may have murdered David, but it’s not the case.”
“What the fuck? He said...” I pause again, unable to spit out the words. My mind’s a mess, turned into one of those bingo machines and all the balls are being spun around while someone turns the crank, and then one ball comes out, only for myself, it’s one word. “He... where... I...” And then I finally get a full sentence out. “He knew what my wife bought when she went shopping the afternoon of David’s death.”
“What time was that?” my father asks.
“Maybe two, or three,” I say.
“Yes, that’s possible. He left the airport at one.” The Detective wipes the front window free of fog with the sleeve of his coat as he speaks. “The Scarlett’s humid tonight and the cold air moving in can make ya feel down in the dumps, don’t you think? I mean, it’s gloomy weather again, isn’t it?”
What an ass, and I can tell by the expression on his face that he knows if he doesn’t put a lid on it, I’ll do it for him. Luckily, his cell saves him from making an even bigger fool out of himself. He walks over to the bar to take the call while the last witness finishes her statement and walks out of the Scarlett.
“She’ll be okay, Cove.” My father delivers one last squeeze before releasing his grip. “If anything, Marcus better watch himself. Sophia’s not going to take being pushed around, and when she takes a swing he’s not going to know what hit him.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Detective Ferguson snaps his fingers to get the attention of the officers in the room. They gather around the bar and wait for him to end his call. He says, “no shit,” a number of times before placing the cell on his shoulder and telling everyone, “They found ‘em. Pack up. Sarge will send out an update with the information in a sec.”
“My wife?” I stand. “Is she alright? Where is she?” My father holds me back until the Detective’s off the line. “What the hell’s going on?” I demand an answer.
The officers disappear one by one out the door and into the steady rain. I start to panic. My heart pumps with wild force as I look at my watch with irritation. It’s been close to an hour and anything could’ve happened in that time. Please, God, let her be okay.
My father puts his hand on my shoulder as the Detective approaches, and my mother stands to the side with her hand over her mouth... waiting... waiting... fuck, I can’t breathe.