Page 46 of Wire
“She say where they were kept?”
“Said it wasn’t far from Rosie’s. She ran until she saw people. Debs said she wasn’t out of breath when she approached them, so close by.”
Nodding, I eye my Pres. “I need to be in the control center. Give me 20 and I’ll have something.”
He nods once, giving me permission to go somewhere and lose my shit for a minute before coming up with a plan. Everyone else in the room watches as I leave. Flack looks like he’s barely containing himself, but at this point everyone knows there is nothing we can do until I have a location. Add to our problems the fact the police are still investigating us and we don’t actually know which cops we can trust, it’s a fucking tense time for all of us.
Stepping into my room, I take a deep breath to center myself before sinking into the familiar leather of my chair.
“You OK?” Chewy says from her spot, her eyes not leaving her screen as she runs searches.
“No Chewy, I’m not. Remy went missing and now Retta isn’t talking to me.” I feel exhausted. Retta quiets the noise in my head. When shit is bad, Retta is there to talk me down to help me focus. Without her, I’m worried I won’t find Remy.
“That’s because Retta was kidnapped.”
“What?!” My head snaps to look at Chewy.
“What?”
“What do you mean, Retta was kidnapped?” My breaths are coming in fast. How the fuck do the two women I care for both go missing? I need Chewy to elaborate, but all she’s doing is staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“Retta is Remy. Remy is Retta. Didn’t you know?”
I splutter. What does she mean they’re the same person? The person I’ve been writing to for 15 years is the woman who has been sitting next to me all this time? What the fuck?
Using an even voice, I ask, “Chewy, what makes you think Retta is Remy?”
“Trolls.”
Staring at her, I circle my hands, trying to get her to explain. She blows out a long breath, rolls her eyes, and looks at me like I’m an idiot. Maybe I am.
“I was with you when you bought and sent a troll to Retta,” she says slowly, as if by doing that I’ll understand what the fuck she’s talking about.
“Yeah?”
“And then last week, Remy and I went to town to have lunch with Ana. She stopped by her post box and there was a troll in there. She was super giddy and when she showed it to me, it smelled like you.”
“It smelled like me?”
“Wire, come on, you know my flavor of autism means having the nose of a bloodhound.”
Yeah, actually, I did know that.
“Wait, I’d fucking know if I was sending something to a post box in town. It’s probably a coincidence.”
“That’s what I thought too.” She turns her body toward me, pointing at me. “Until she told me that Flack was a nomad for years before becoming a dad. He had all his mail sent to an aunt four hours away. She’d forward it to a post box. It became normal for all their post to go to her. Remy’s still does. Now her aunt forwards it here to Rose Grove. After that I did a little digging and saw all your messages to each other. Then I checked through Remy’s stuff and the turn of phrases, grammar. It all matches. Remy is Retta.”
I’m glad I’m sitting down. What Chewy has just hit me with is fucking huge. My head spins as I try to process that the two people I’ve been having feelings for are, in fact, the same person.
“Wait, you went through my messages?!”
“Look, before you get all butt hurt about it, you’re my best friend. I know that I’ve organized my besties into categories, but it doesn’t mean anything. The feelings are the same. I have your back, through thick and thin, and I’m not going to sit by and watch my best friend fall in love with someone online only to find out that the woman he loves is actually a big, toothless black guy from Minnesota. Not that toothless black guys don’t need love, just not with my best -”
“Chewy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to hug you now,”