Page 3 of Lost Without You
“Surely by now you’re over that stupid phobia?”
“It’s not a phobia, Lara, it’s a preference. I was on the phone for my job for too many hours and for too many years. I’ve asked you to text first if there’s nothing urgent.”
“Whatever. Listen, Sloan and I are buying a new house so when we come back from Mexico, I’ll be busy for a while until we find our new place.”
“Best of luck in your property hunt. If there’s nothing else, I have to pack for a trip of my own.”
“Going away with another model? Or is it an actress this time? I can’t keep track of them all.”
“Don’t be nasty, Lara. And this is a case I’m taking on, a missing persons investigation.”
“Of course, it is. Once an FBI man, always an FBI man. Ciao.”
Ah, blessed silence. The quickest way to get Lara off the phone was to mention his previous work—or in this case, his current investigation. The rest of the drive was slow, but uneventful, and he arrived home a half hour later.
After his first book became a bestseller, he’d splurged on a two-level home near the ocean. It was a bit modern for his taste, but all the windows facing the water were the main attraction. He’d hired a decorator to warm up the interior and now it was home to him and his tabby cat, Watson.
His phone pinged as he entered the house and he glanced down, fearing the message was Lara again.Wes Stewart.Phew.
Ethan had met the fellow author at a writer’s conference in San Francisco over a year ago and they’d become quick friends. Ethan had ideated a co-writing project, but Wes was still busy writing books with his husband Ryker, who happened to be Rachel’s brother.
Wes:I hear you’re headed to the east coast with my sister-in-law. You have time to meet?
Ethan:Well, my client comes first but if time allows, dinner would be great.
Wes:The day after tomorrow? I want you to meet Ryker.
Ethan:I can’t wait
Ethan walked up the stairs to the second level and into the main suite. He pulled his carry-on case from the walk-in closet and started to pack. It was springtime in New York, so he’d need jeans, sweaters, and a jacket for sure. Then he piled in his shoes, toiletries and organized his briefcase with his laptop, chargers, and every other electronic device he could fit in. Headphones! He didn’t want to forget those, especially if he wanted to do some work while en route.
Ping.
Rachel:Flight booked for 9:30 AM tomorrow. Details attached. See you at the airport at 8.
Ethan:Thanks
Feeling restless, he decided to hit the treadmill for a half hour run. After the workout, he fed Watson, texted his neighbor to arrange for cat sitting and then set up his out-of-office notification. Searching his New York law enforcement contacts, he sent out several text messages and emails.
Now came the hard part—waiting for responses. Some things never got easier.
****
The next day Ethan arrived early at the airport. He checked into the first-class lounge and helped himself to a coffee and a breakfast wrap. After he scarfed down his meal, he got busy replying to text messages until the yummy scent of vanilla wafted over him, snagging his attention. He looked up to find the source of his distraction. Rachel was standing beside him in dark jeans and a plaid Burberry trench coat, a carry-on suitcase by her feet.
“That’s the largest cup of coffee I’ve ever seen,” he remarked as he pointed to the coffee cup she was holding. It was three times the size of her hand.
“One thing you should be warned about, if I don’t have coffee in the morning, I’m a total rager.”
“Rager?”
“Angry as fuck. It’s nothing personal. It could be my mother and I’d still snarl at her if I don’t have caffeine. And carbs.”
Ethan burst out laughing until he noticed the stares of other nearby travelers and quickly schooled himself.
“Duly noted. And I worked in law enforcement for many years, so trust me, I know all about the need for caffeine.”
“Lots of sleepless nights?” Rachel asked as she took the seat beside him.