point. If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that everyone’s always got an agenda, you know what I’m saying? They smile at you, but they’re just lying through their teeth, trying to figure out how they can screw you over. What you should do is—”
I turned and snapped, “For fuck’s sake, Kate, enough.”
She put a hand to her cheek as though I’d slapped her.
“Everyone’s always out to get you, aren’t they?” I said. “Your ex-husband, the people you work with, your landlord? Is there anyone out there who isn’t making your life a living hell?”
She looked at me and said, “Evidently not.”
“Oh, so now I’m doing it, too.”
She studied me a moment, then seemed to come to a realization. “You’ve used this whole thing with your daughter as an excuse to break off with me.”
I was too stunned to say anything right away. Then I almost laughed. “What?”
“You never return my calls. I know you look and see if it’s me calling and don’t pick up.”
“Kate,” I said.
“Is that what I was for you? A good fuck and now it’s over?”
“Kate, I don’t have time for this discussion right now. I have to book a flight.”
“You see? You’re doing it right now. It’s what my therapist calls an avoidance strategy.”
“Your therapist?”
“Just tell me, Tim. Is your daughter actually missing? Or is she just off at summer camp somewhere? Were you even talking to some woman from Seattle just then?”
I leaned back in my chair, let my arms hang down at my sides. Exhaustion, defeat, take your pick.
“I have a lot to do, Kate,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible. And then I said something that was probably very stupid. “What do I owe you for the Chinese food?”
“Fuck you,” she said and went down the stairs.
I got out of the chair as if to follow, then decided there really wasn’t any point. I heard some containers of Chinese food being thrown around the kitchen, then the slamming of a door.
I’d clean up later.
I dropped back into the chair, grabbed the receiver and called the police. Not the emergency number, but the line for the office Kip Jennings worked out of. A fellow detective said she was off duty. I explained that it was urgent and asked whether he could relay a message and have her call me.
He said he’d see what he could do.
I hung up and turned back to the computer to look up flights. I nearly booked a 1:59 p.m. US Airways flight out of LaGuardia, then just before confirming my arrangements noticed that I had to switch planes in Philadelphia.
“Fuck that,” I said.
Then I found a Jet Blue flight that departed the same time, and was $300 more, that went nonstop to Seattle. It was a six-hour flight, which would put me into Seattle around 5 p.m. local time. Assuming it took me an hour to get into the city, I could be looking for Yolanda Mills, and my daughter, by early evening.
I didn’t know when to book a return ticket for, so I didn’t book one at all. I confirmed my choice, provided all my credit card info, then waited for the ticket to be emailed to me and printed it out.
The phone rang. I had the receiver in my hand before the first ring had ended.
“Mr. Blake? Detective Jennings here.” She sounded nasal.
“Hi, thanks, listen, I have a lead on Sydney.”
“Really,” she said, with less enthusiasm than I might have expected. “She’s been in contact with you?”
“No.”
“What’s this lead?”
“A woman who works at a drop-in for teenage runaways read about Syd on the Net. She got in touch. She’s seen Syd. I’ve already booked a flight out at two tomorrow.”
“Mr. Blake, I’m not sure that’s wise.”
In the background, I could hear a kid shouting, “Mom! I’m ready!”
“It’s all I’ve got right now. I can’t sit around here in Milford.”
“The thing is, it could be someone trying to scam you.”
“She didn’t ask for anything,” I said. “She said it wouldn’t be Christian.”
Kip
I turned and snapped, “For fuck’s sake, Kate, enough.”
She put a hand to her cheek as though I’d slapped her.
“Everyone’s always out to get you, aren’t they?” I said. “Your ex-husband, the people you work with, your landlord? Is there anyone out there who isn’t making your life a living hell?”
She looked at me and said, “Evidently not.”
“Oh, so now I’m doing it, too.”
She studied me a moment, then seemed to come to a realization. “You’ve used this whole thing with your daughter as an excuse to break off with me.”
I was too stunned to say anything right away. Then I almost laughed. “What?”
“You never return my calls. I know you look and see if it’s me calling and don’t pick up.”
“Kate,” I said.
“Is that what I was for you? A good fuck and now it’s over?”
“Kate, I don’t have time for this discussion right now. I have to book a flight.”
“You see? You’re doing it right now. It’s what my therapist calls an avoidance strategy.”
“Your therapist?”
“Just tell me, Tim. Is your daughter actually missing? Or is she just off at summer camp somewhere? Were you even talking to some woman from Seattle just then?”
I leaned back in my chair, let my arms hang down at my sides. Exhaustion, defeat, take your pick.
“I have a lot to do, Kate,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible. And then I said something that was probably very stupid. “What do I owe you for the Chinese food?”
“Fuck you,” she said and went down the stairs.
I got out of the chair as if to follow, then decided there really wasn’t any point. I heard some containers of Chinese food being thrown around the kitchen, then the slamming of a door.
I’d clean up later.
I dropped back into the chair, grabbed the receiver and called the police. Not the emergency number, but the line for the office Kip Jennings worked out of. A fellow detective said she was off duty. I explained that it was urgent and asked whether he could relay a message and have her call me.
He said he’d see what he could do.
I hung up and turned back to the computer to look up flights. I nearly booked a 1:59 p.m. US Airways flight out of LaGuardia, then just before confirming my arrangements noticed that I had to switch planes in Philadelphia.
“Fuck that,” I said.
Then I found a Jet Blue flight that departed the same time, and was $300 more, that went nonstop to Seattle. It was a six-hour flight, which would put me into Seattle around 5 p.m. local time. Assuming it took me an hour to get into the city, I could be looking for Yolanda Mills, and my daughter, by early evening.
I didn’t know when to book a return ticket for, so I didn’t book one at all. I confirmed my choice, provided all my credit card info, then waited for the ticket to be emailed to me and printed it out.
The phone rang. I had the receiver in my hand before the first ring had ended.
“Mr. Blake? Detective Jennings here.” She sounded nasal.
“Hi, thanks, listen, I have a lead on Sydney.”
“Really,” she said, with less enthusiasm than I might have expected. “She’s been in contact with you?”
“No.”
“What’s this lead?”
“A woman who works at a drop-in for teenage runaways read about Syd on the Net. She got in touch. She’s seen Syd. I’ve already booked a flight out at two tomorrow.”
“Mr. Blake, I’m not sure that’s wise.”
In the background, I could hear a kid shouting, “Mom! I’m ready!”
“It’s all I’ve got right now. I can’t sit around here in Milford.”
“The thing is, it could be someone trying to scam you.”
“She didn’t ask for anything,” I said. “She said it wouldn’t be Christian.”
Kip
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