Chapter 2: Sebastian - Hunter or Hunted

“What do you mean she ambushed you?” Gwen said into the phone. “Are you okay?”

Gwen had yet to say so, but I had the feeling I knew.

After Edwards approached us at Light Up Night to make Simone aware of Angela’s pressure on the sheriff’s department to find David, I had done a deep dive. I used a private server on Wi-Fi at the public library, of course. That way, there was no paper trail of me snooping on David’s family.

Angela was a problem on her own. She had only gotten off probation for battery six months prior. Her poison was alcohol, judging by the many DUIs and license suspensions that went back all the way to her twenties.

She didn’t seem to be involved in the drug world, at least not to the same extent David had been. But she had spent the night in jail on many occasions. Unlike her son, she’d never served real time. She knew enough about that world, though, and I had no doubt about what came next. Angela wouldn’t be the kind of suburban mom who sat back when her child vanished off the face of the earth. She came here for answers, but given her violent record, she wouldn’t stop until she had a body of her own to bury.

Which perfectly illustrated why now wasn’t the time to plan another murder.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

Gwen held her finger up at me. “Okay. Alright. Send your client home. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Simone said something else, but her voice muffled. I couldn’t make it out with the phone pressed to Gwen’s ear.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be happy if my appointment got rescheduled last minute, but I have the feeling she’ll be a lot less happy if you ruin her hair, Simone.”

Another moment of silence.

“Okay, do her hair then, but maybe warn her you’re on the edge of a panic attack first?” Another eye roll, and another moment of silence. “Alright. Whatever. I’ll see you soon.”

As she shut off the phone, I said, “What happened?”

“David’s mom. She walked into Simone’s salon and said some vaguely threatening shit.” She stowed the phone in her pocket. “I don’t know. She’s freaking out. I gotta go calm her down.”

“Lizzie’s out with Aubrey anyway, and I don’t have work today,” I said. “I can come with you, if you want. We can talk about⁠—”

“I thought you wanted to stay far away from all this,” she said. “That’s why you hid your identity from me for all this time. Because the more people who know, the more opportunity we have for someone to screw up. Isn’t that what you said?”

I slouched my shoulders. “Yeah, but the cat’s kind of out of the bag now, don’t you think?”

“No.” Zipping up her hoodie, Gwen headed for the door. I stayed close behind. “Simone barely knows what happened. All she remembers is finding David’s blood on my boots. She figured it out, but I was careful about what I told her. Never mentioned the anonymous texter who stole the body. If you want to stay safe, to keep your name out of this, and your land where the body is buried, just let me handle it.”

This wasn’t about self-preservation. I wanted to be there for her. She found out that her friend died last night. She learned that I, too, was a murderer.

Whiplash was the only word I could use to describe the last twenty-four hours. Especially for Gwen. She needed support, someone she could tell everything to, because apparently, she wasn’t telling Simone much of anything either.

And now she was pissed at the only person she could share everything with.

But she was right. So long as no one connected me to David’s disappearance, no one would find his body. No body, no crime.

“Okay, how about we go get something to eat after you talk to Simone?” I asked. “When was the last time you ate, anyway? I know it was late when you got here, but⁠—”

“Honestly, Sebastian?” Hand on the doorknob, she gave me a once-over. “I’m exhausted. After Simone and I talk, I need to sleep. And I don’t want to be around you right now. That look on your face a few minutes ago, that condescending, holier-than-thou bullshit—I can’t. I just can’t do it right now. I need to be alone.”

Twelve hours ago, she had said, I told Simone I wanted to be alone, but I don’t. I want to be with you.

So that hurt.

But I had misspoken. Running on fumes myself, bombarded, I lost my train of thought, and I derailed any possibility of a positive outcome to this conversation. How could I blame her for wanting some time to herself?

“That’s fair,” I said. “But just—can we talk before you do anything else?”

Dropping the doorknob, her face screwed up. “What—do you think I’m gonna hop in my car right now, track down Evan, and slit his throat in the middle of the street?”

It wouldn’t surprise me.

“We’re both sleep-deprived, a lot has happened, and I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Eyes narrowed, she grabbed the handle, ripped the door open, and started down the steps. But she didn’t stop. Spoke under her breath all the way to the landing. “…treat me like an incompetent child. Bunch of bullsh⁠—”

My hands went to my hair. I grabbed fistfuls on both sides. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick.”

She flipped me off over her shoulder.

A deep breath lifted my chest and formed a cloud before my face. “Can you please just call me later?”

“After we’ve both gotten some sleep, yeah.” At her driver’s-side door now, she glared up at me. “I’ll call you. But keep talking down to me, keep acting like you know everything, keep acting like I’m an idiot, and I’m hanging up.”

I didn’t think she was an idiot. I never had.

But she wasn’t the first person to tell me I came off condescending.

My shoulders fell limp at my sides. “Fair enough.”

She kept glaring as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat.

I hated this. I hated everything about it. As much as possible, I avoided confrontation, because I could never get across what I really meant. It always turned into this. Someone glaring at me as they walked away.

Gwen was the last person I could stand to glare at me, let alone watch walk away.

I needed a smidgen of resolution before she drove off.

She was just about to shut the door when I said, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

For half a heartbeat, her glare vanished. Did a smile tease the corners of her lips? It was hard to tell from the distance.

“You should be.” She slammed her door. My stomach ached for the second it took for her to turn over the engine and roll down the window. “But I love you too.”

She may have hidden her smile, but there was no hiding mine. “Drive safe.”

“Go to sleep.” She shifted the car into drive. As it rolled around the circular pathway, she called, “I don’t like you when you’re tired.”

Which was hard to argue with.

Once she was out of sight, taillights vanishing into the trees of the winding drive, the reality sank in. My eyelids weighed ten pounds apiece. Lifting my hand to rub them was as difficult as digging that hole had been. I needed to lie down.

But just as I shut the door behind me, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number that flashed across the screen. That wasn’t unusual though. The voicemail at my office redirected any emergency patients to my cell phone.

I wasn’t in any shape to perform a surgery right now. But I’d never ignore a patient either.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi. Is this Dr. Everett?” An older woman, whose voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place.

“It is, yeah.” Stifling a yawn, I returned to the Chesterfield beneath the bay window. “Who, may I ask, is calling?”

“This is Glenna Phelps.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry to call on the weekend, especially with the holiday coming up. I’m sure you’re busy.”

Glenna Phelps and her many rescue animals were frequent flyers at my office. She was a sweet old lady whose husband passed a while back, whose kids had gone on to live lives of their own, and to fill the void, she took in every stray she encountered. A few years ago, she started fostering with one of the local rescues. Because of Glenna, I hosted low-cost spay-neuter clinics quarterly.

Last week, we had to have a hard conversation about one of Glenna’s cats. She adopted him at nine, he was pushing thirteen now, and suffering from end-stage chronic kidney disease. Things had gotten worse lately. He had dropped a quarter of his body weight, despite appetite stimulants. He vomited several times every day, was growing more lethargic, and his urine output was exceptionally low. Last week, he had his first seizure, which meant treatment wasn’t helping anymore.

“That’s alright,” I said. “What’s going on? How’s Buttons doing?”

“That’s why I’m calling, actually.” Nasally, she cleared her throat. “He’s not moving well at all. Even when he pukes, he can’t get up. He just lays back down. I’ve been trying to get him to eat all night, but he just looks away, if he lifts his head at all. When he tries to move, he’s crying and whining, and—” A sharp breath cut her off. She cleared her throat again. “He’s in a lot of pain, Sebastian. I think it might be time.”

Chest heavy, tears burned their way across my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Glenna. He’s such a sweet boy.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna miss him like hell.” It took a long moment for her to say, “But I think if we don’t do it, I’m just forcing him to hurt longer. I know it’s going to happen soon anyway. That’s what you told me, right? When they stop eating and drinking, it’s gonna happen soon.”

I blinked at the tears in my eyes. “Yeah. He’s at the tail end.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” she murmured. “I guess you’re closed for the weekend, huh? Do you know somewhere else I can take him? He really hates getting in that cat carrier, and the drive is just so much stress, but I can’t watch him suffer like this through the weekend.”

Buttons deserved more dignity than that. “I’ve got a free morning anyway. I can bring my supplies to your house and just do it there, if you think that would be easier.”

“Oh, I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered.” As much as I hated this part of the job, it was the kindest thing I could do for a little creature who had endured so much. “I’d have to stop by my office anyway, and you’re only a couple of blocks over, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but I’ll have to pay you extra, Sebastian. What you’re doing, what you’re offering here, it’s the kindest favor, and⁠—”

“Don’t mention it.” I stood and headed for the door. I stepped into my boots and grabbed my keys off the end table. “You just enjoy this time with him. I’ll be there soon.”