Page 23 of Duplicity

Detective Westbrook moved to stand with her. “You think it’s worth asking the mom more questions, Officer Alvarez?”

Was this a test? Probably not. It was her father who asked those types of questions. “Not now, but I’d try again later. Or in the morning if Marianna is still missing.” She spoke quietly, praying the distraught mom didn’t overhear.

Lucas nodded.

“All the stats about abductions are running through my mind. Is that normal?”

His expression softened, and he stuck a hand in his slacks pocket. “Yes, which is when you know it’s time to regroup, find out what everyone has, and make a plan for what to do next.” He lifted his chin, indicating down the hall. “Which also means we need to find Simon.”

She started off toward the bedrooms. “What was he working on?”

“Who knows with that kid.” Lucas’s tone warmed, and it sounded endearing. “The guy is a genius. There’s nothing he can’t hack or figure out on a computer. I heard the NSA was trying to recruit him a few months ago.”

“But he didn’t take the job?” She stopped at Marianna’s room. A profusion of purple spread all over the room, and the letters of her name stretched over the mirror, stuck there like flags on a string. A teen room with leftover items from her childhood bedroom.

Lucas frowned. “I actually…don’t know what happened. I heard there was a meeting, but nothing after that.” He paused. “Simon doesn’t talk much about what’s going on in his head or what he’s working on. I guess I assumed if things weren’t okay, he would say something. But maybe I shouldn’t have.”

Who would Simon confide in? His family, or his twin brother? Maybe he had confided in this Talia friend of his? Hopefully, he had someone to talk to.

Seemed like maybe the same thing had happened with Marianna. It was definitely easier to assume the people Cat cared for were fine and that they’d say something if they weren’t. She needed to check in with her parents and make sure she wasn’t wrong about that assumption.

Cat looked around the room, trying to see through the surface to what secrets the girl had kept underneath. Who would she talk to if she were having problems with someone? A best friend, most likely. They’d need to find who that was, maybe by talking to her work friends.

“Hey.” Lucas glanced down the hall, and she heard footsteps approaching.

Simon appeared beside him and jerked his head to flip hair back from his face. “I found her phone.”

TEN

They followed him to the kitchen door and then outside to where the signal originated. Simon stood back. “In the trash can.”

Lucas asked, “You’re sure?”

Simon nodded. “That’s the source of the signal.”

Even if it wasn’t Marianna’s phone, it was someone’s. Found via a regular commercial network, so not connected to the communication network he’d created—which was a seriously good note to be able to make. The last thing he needed was for the two cases to collide. This was a normal missing teen case. No broader connection.

He squared his shoulders while Lucas dug around in the trash can. A uniformed cop brought over a tarp, and they spread out the garbage, tearing open bags and looking inside. The phone had ended up under a white plastic bag, stretched out by the contents. “Got it.”

Lucas stood with the phone in his gloved hand.

Simon was aware of Cat beside him, her attention partially on him. She had a way of tuning in to the body language of others, and she could probably tell he still hadn’t quite found hisequilibrium after the meeting. Then they’d come here, and he’d had to confront Lucas.

His family knew that he’d lied about his vacation.

Simon’s phone had been silent. Whether or not Lucas had sent texts to Freya and Peter, they would find out soon enough, and then he’d be in for a reckoning.

Silence was worse than a confrontation.

Alone was worse than with people, and quiet was worse than a room full of chatter. He would much rather be with people than on his own. Like this, where he was working and helping, but the real responsibility fell on the cops here.

His father might’ve said that meant he didn’t measure up, but the support role Simon had in his life suited him. Not an operator. Not a team leader, or someone who went out and kicked doors down. Simon was the one who backed up those people. This was his calling. His mission. The work he was supposed to do.

Like helping teens figure out complex math problems. As if what he had chosen to do made a difference, and he could keep his quiet role in the meantime. Not the center of attention. Not the one who got all the praise. That was the last thing he wanted.

Simon’s peace of mind was more valuable to him than all of that. Like the grasp he had on his freedom, and the ability to choose for himself where he went. What he did.

He needed those things like he needed air.

---