“Shit. The cops think Kayla was taken,” Matt said the second I walked into the apartment. His hair was a mess, and it was clear that he’d had a beer or five. He had a fresh one in his hand, and he wasn’t just sipping it. I plucked it from his fingers and drank the rest of it in one gulp. “Hey, that was mine!”
“No more for you,” I said, shaking a finger in his face. Matt didn’t drink much so when he did, it went straight to his head. I knew he was under a great deal of stress, but this wasn’t the way to deal with his problems. “Tell me everything.”
Matt and I went into the living room and sat on the futon before he spilled his guts to me. It turned out that the hospital had called the cops when it discovered Kayla missing. The cops went over her room with a CSI kit and found traces of another person. Now, that wouldn’t be so unusual as it was a hospital, but they found pieces of skin, hair and fibers from a shirt—all indications of a struggle between Kayla and the person who took her. They were running tests on the samples found, but Martinez wasn’t too sanguine about the results.
“You talked to Martinez?” I asked, interrupting his recitation.
“Yup,” Matt said, smirking slightly. “I even got to see him. Jealous?” I punched him in the arm and indicated for him to continue. He didn’t have much else to say. The kidnapper hadn’t left a note this time, so the cops didn’t have many leads. They were also concerned because of her hit-and-run case, but there wasn’t much they could do about that.
I awoke the next day at noon. I hadn’t gone to bed until the wee hours of the morning as I was too hyped from the two naps. I went into the kitchen to see what I could dig up. As I was about to pull some bread out of the freezer, I remembered that I had to be at Julia’s at one. I raced to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. The good thing about having an odd schedule was that Matt and I didn’t fight over the bathroom. He used it around eight in the morning while I rarely needed it before noon. I washed myself hastily before hopping out of the shower. Running to my room, I thought about what clean clothes I had. I pulled on a black cotton skirt and a red tank top before flying out of the house. It was twelve-thirty, and I was going to have to forgo food until I got to Julia’s. I just hoped she had something she could feed me. I also hoped the gang wouldn’t be too pissed that I hadn’t finished my work.
In my room, I halted before my closet, deciding to see if I could contact Danny again. I sat on my bed and closed my eyes, willing his image to come to me. I breathed deeply, knowing I couldn’t force anything. Danny had to be willing to have me in his head in the first place. Normally, he most likely wouldn’t have a problem with that, but these were not normal conditions. I let those thoughts float through my brain without attaching any importance to them whatsoever. I put my hands on my midsection, knowing that usually calmed me enough to focus on what I had to do. Suddenly, a picture of poor Danny in only his underwear popped into my mind. I stiffened, worried that his captors were taking things to a different level.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” I called out, throwing my purse on the ground. All I wanted was something to eat, perhaps a roll in a hay, and a hot shower. I went into the living room where Matt was staring at the television. Though he had it on the Sox game, he wasn’t really watching. “You hungry? I’m going to order a pizza. You want in?” No answer. “Hey, Matt, what’s wrong?” No sooner did the words leave my lips then I knew. “Oh, Matt. It’s not Shawn, is it? He’s not…worse, is he?”
“Hey, glad you could stop by,” Julia said, her eyes red. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.
“First time I’ve been called ‘God’,” Martinez said, his eyes amused. I opened my mouth to make a ribald comment before clamping it shut again. I had the sneaking suspicion that Martinez knew what I was about to say because he was openly smirking. His voice was all business, however, when he asked if I’d spotted anything yet.
“Is this right?” The police sketch artist, name of Meg, held up a composite. We were in an interview room, and I was starting to get claustrophobic.
“Ms. Hsu! Ms. Hsu!” Someone was calling to me from a great distance away. I wanted whoever it was to leave me alone so I could sleep. I was so fucking tired. Soon, I was being shaken awake, and I opened one eye to see who was disturbing me. It was Detective Martinez, and he looked concerned about me.