Page 16 of The Business Trip

Firing up the remote ignition for my BMW, I took out my bewilderment and frustration on the light switch (extra hard flick with my hand) and the door (slammed it for the satisfying feeling it gave me), then stomped my way through the January early darkness of the parking lot, seething.

If she didn’t call me back tomorrow… I would… I would… Truth be told, I didn’t know what I would do. Would I fire her? I guess eventually, but this was a trusted employee who had done good work for a long time. I felt at ease when she ranthe newsroom. It wasn’t that Bruce wasn’t a solid guy or a good journalist, but my nerves were always just a bit more on edge when he was in charge. I would casually “swing by” the newsroom just a little more often.

If Stephanie left the station or I fired her, would Bruce get the job? I would have to open it up to outside candidates just for the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission requirements. Maybe someone better might come along—we’d see.

Throwing my briefcase across the driver’s seat to the passenger side, climbing in, and slamming the door, I cranked the radio to a local country station and steered in the direction of home, thumping my hand on the steering wheel to the beat. Halfway there, I calmed down enough to mute the radio and command the car:

“Call Lisa.”

It responded in a soothing woman’s voice: “Calling Lisa.”

“Dave?” my wife’s voice answered, even more soothing to my ears. After decades of marriage, I still got a tiny flutter talking to her. She remained drop-dead gorgeous to me.

“Lees,” I sighed. Before I could say another word, she had my mood pegged.

“What’s wrong?”

My wife did know me well, that was for sure.

“Well, you’re not going to believe this, but Stephanie was a no-show at work today. She texted Bruce that she would be out all week, but she refused to answer any of my calls.”

“What do you mean, a no-show? Is she sick?” Lisa had always been a fan of Stephanie’s. They got along famously.

“I don’t think so,” I said, putting my blinker on and changing lanes on the Beltline Highway. “She apparently went straight from the conference in San Diego to Atlanta. That’s what shetold Bruce anyway. She only said that something came up. Lees—she absolutely refused to answer my phone calls or call me back. This is so unlike Stephanie.”

“She never even sent you an email?”

“Nope, not a thing. I checked my inbox and spam at least a dozen times. She just bailed on us.”

“I’m baffled,” Lisa stammered. “Did you call Evan?”

“Her son?”

“Yes, maybe he knows something.”

God, my wife was so smart. That thought hadn’t even occurred to me. Of course I could call Evan. Emergency contacts were listed in our computer system. Stephanie must have him on there.

“Good idea. I’ll try him when I get home.”

Forty-five minutes later, I had changed into lounge pants and an old college sweatshirt. I had a scotch on the rocks in my hand, and I sat in our den with my laptop, looking up the emergency contact information for Stephanie.

Sure enough, there was Evan. She talked of him often, so I knew he was living in Minneapolis and working for some sort of team. He seemed like a good kid—I had met him a few times when he came through the TV station when he was younger. Maybe he would have some information.

But what if he didn’t? I didn’t want to freak him out by alarming him about his mother either. I sat there, my hand over my phone, wondering what to do. How would I phrase a call?

Hi, Evan, this is Dave, your mom’s boss. Do you have any idea why she went to Atlanta?or maybe justHave you heard from your mom recently?It seemed a rather awkward thing to say, and I couldn’t imagine being on the receiving end of that call. No, it didn’t feel right.

Looking at the emergency contact list again, I saw that Stephanie had two others listed: a sister, whose address was in Indianapolis—I had never met her—and a guy named Robert whose address was just two digits different from Stephanie’s. At first, I couldn’t place who he was or what he looked like, but as I lifted my eyes to the ceiling to think, it came back to me.

A Fourth of July barbecue Steph hosted the summer before in her backyard. Robert, with a bottle of craft beer in his hand, coming over to introduce himself as her neighbor. Gray hair, glasses, an awkward smile. He told me that he watched Channel 3 every day and loved it. That sort of compliment always made me happy. We chatted for a minute, and he said he took care of Steph’s cat when she was out of town. The conversation had ended shortly after when Lisa summoned me over to say hello to another group of people over by the red, white, and blue cupcakes.

Yes, I knew who he was. And as the cat-sitter, maybe he did know a thing or two. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it wasn’t even seven p.m., not too late for a phone call, right? I picked up my cell and punched in Robert’s number.

CHAPTER 14Robert

The Monday After the Flight

The townhouse felt extra cold. I had already turned the heat up to 70 degrees, two notches higher than I ever kept it. The electric fireplace was more for show than heat, but I put it on for the ambience and even grabbed some fingerless gloves in my mudroom drawer. Powering up the teakettle, I prepared a cup of chamomile, always a calming and warming favorite, especially with honey and lemon.

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