it. For one, Trent is just not smart enough to disappear without a trace. For two, the fucker has no money.” I continue to rattle off all the different reasons why my training, as well as my gut, tells me someone else is behind this.
“We’ve been down this road before, man. The key is who, and why would someone want to hurt Turner and Clove in this way? And the biggest question of all is, how in the hell did this person find out about all that money Turner was set to inherit?” Martinez questions, then sets a fresh cup of coffee from the deli across the street on my desk.
“The only two people I can think of who would want to hurt Turner and Clove are the two we already know about, and one of those sons of bitches is dead, rotting away in fucking hell where he belongs.” I scrub my hands up and down my face, feeling my exhaustion kicking in. “Thanks for the coffee,” I add absently.
Picking up the cup, I take a sip of the welcoming hot liquid. For months now something has been eating away at me like a slow flesh-eating disease, waking me up throughout the night, making sleep nonexistent. My mind starts to race the minute I wake up, not only for Clove, but for my loving wife, who is grieving and hurting just as much as I am.
Krista and Clove are best friends. It kills me to see my wife crying every day. I love Krista so damn much. We’ve cried together so many nights, clinging onto each other. My wife has always had a smile on her face, but not anymore. She aches and bleeds for us all.
The worst and yet the best part is my son. He has no idea who is aunt is, or how much she loved him. He would have adored her. Her smile, her kind heart. There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, or any of us, and goddamn it, he’s losing out just like the rest of us. FUCK. He doesn’t know anything about the daily struggles his family is going through. I’m thankful he’s so young. Nolan doesn’t even realize he is the one blessing right now that is holding this family together. His innocent smile and laughter. The way he screams ‘dada’ when I walk into the house. The way he feels when I take him into my arms. For the briefest of moments, inhaling his sweetness gives me a sense of calm.
And then there’s my dad. He can hardly function. He shows up here every morning at eight a.m. sharp to see if we have any news, and when he’s not here, he calls several times a day. I have no words for what it feels like to watch him suffer.
I think about my baby boy, Nolan, again. How would I feel if he just vanished without a trace? I can’t even begin to imagine what my dad is going through.
“Fuck!” I stand, kicking my chair over and hearing the loud crash as it hits the floor. I twist my ball cap backwards on my head, then stalk over to the board and stand in front of it. Seeing my sister’s happy face everywhere guts me.
“I’ve… goddamn it! We’re overlooking something. We have to find her,” I whisper. “She needs me more than ever right now, Martinez. Don’t ask me how I know it, I just do.” I shake my head, turn, and look at my partner. “What the hell are we missing?”
“I don’t know, my friend. We can start from the beginning again and see if we overlooked something. Maybe get Fulton in here. A new set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”
“Ask him,” I say, never taking my eyes off of the board.
“Let me take the files out to him. It’s almost eight, which means it’s time for your dad. You know I can’t handle seeing him like this.”
That makes two of us, Martinez. I watch as he grabs the stack of files and his coffee and walks out the door.
************
“Hey, son.”
My troubled father wanders into my office an hour later, looking crumpled. I have never dreaded seeing my dad, but the more days that pass not knowing where Clove is, the more I wish I didn’t have to see the grief and agony that has aged my father. My dad is slowly deteriorating right before my eyes.
“Dad.”
I come around to the front of my desk, my arms wrapping around