I inhaled deeply and told myself I needed to hear him out, in case he shared something that would eventually lead me to my sister.
“So, you had sex with Heidi but not Paige?” I asked and crossed everything I had while I waited for his answer.
“Right. I never touched Paige, and she never touched me. I was about to tell you that when you interrupted me, again.”
“My apologies. I’ll hold all questions until the end,” I said in an overly sweet voice while I thought of a few different ways to torture him in one of my books.
“Before you go thinking it was one big orgy, night after night, it wasn’t like that. It was more of a you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours kind of thing. Friends with benefits or whatever you want to call it. And, it only happened a handful of times.”
When he continued to stare at me in silence, I tossed my hands in the air. “What? You told me not to interrupt with questions.” And I really wanted to tell him to shut up right after the word orgy left his mouth. “Get on with it,” I insisted.
He shook his head and snorted. “As you wish. So, the first time we made plans to get together, there was an explosion at the clubhouse before things happened. Since the explosion was near my room, we were all hurt—me worse than them—but I think it scared Paige. They both had concussions, and Paige’s arm was broken. Heidi was back to work in a few days, but Paige was off for six weeks while it healed. Skipping forward, it was a few months before they brought it up again. Not long after that, two of the club members were attacked one night when leaving work and almost died. Right after that, Paige stopped showing up for her scheduled shifts at the club. Then, Heidi came home from a shift at Precious Metals to an empty house. She said Paige left a note breaking up with her but didn’t give any explanation for it. When Heidi tried to call, her number had been disconnected. About a month later, Heidi called in sick to work. Later that night, she sent me a text saying she was having a hard time with the break up and thought moving out of the house they shared together might help. I agreed with her and told her the club would help her move when she found a place.”
He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told her to take some time off—as much as she needed. She asked if she could have two, maybe three, weeks off to find a new place, get herself moved, take time to process her new life, and come back to work with a fresh start.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been through a break up like that, but her request sounded reasonable to me. She never took time off, rarely called in sick, and always came in to help out whenever we asked. I was happy she was finally taking some time for herself. After her two weeks off, she’d found a new place and started moving in but said she needed more time and asked for another week. That was the last time I heard from her.”
I waited a few beats to make sure he was finished before I tapped my phone to stop the voice recording, which he noticed immediately. “Were you recording me?”
“Yes,” I admitted and slapped my hand over my face. “I’m sorry. It’s a habit. I always record interviews.” While that part was true, I was also so blown away by what he was telling me that I was afraid I would miss something important. “I’ll delete it when we’re finished.”
“Before we continue, you got anything to drink in here?”
I gestured toward the not-so-mini-fridge. “Help yourself.”
He walked over to the small kitchen area and set about making himself a drink. “Do you want one?”
“No, thanks,” I replied and got up to retrieve the complimentary bottle of wine the hotel sent up the day after I checked in.
“You’re not going to share?” he teased.
“I would’ve until you said that,” I retorted and stuck out my tongue.
When we settled back into our seats, he gestured for me to get on with it. However, there was only one thing I wanted to ask about. “Where are their mothers?”