Page 29 of Callan

“What the fuck was that?” I grind out, angry.

I lower myself, all shaky, my elbow hurting from the impact, and run my hand through the feathery snow.

My fingers stop on a slippery object.

“What the…?”

I extract it and wipe out the melted snow.

Is this…?

Frozen, I look at the phone.

Is this that man’s phone?

My mind rolls back to when he fell with me.

All right.

And then he lay down.

He must’ve had it in his pocket. The other pocket. Not the one with cash.

He didn’t even notice that his phone was gone?

Apparently, he didn’t.

I push up and touch the screen, not knowing what to expect.

And then the biggest surprise of my life awaits me.

And I truly can’t believe my eyes.

There is no passcode on his phone.

MACKENZIE

Who does that?

I swipe his phone with a cold finger and quickly learn why his phone is easy to access.

There’s nothing on it.

No apps, social media, or a jam packed photo gallery.

There is not a single shot of anything. A recording. Or a written note.

Maybe the man has declared war on photographs.

I check the last placed and received phone calls and also the missed ones. There aren’t that many.

But I figure ‘Carmen’ must be the woman upstairs. I don’t know why I believe that.

Maybe the frequency and length of their calls. I don’t want to call her and check for myself. I’d need to explain to her why I have his phone, and who needs that aggravation?

Their affair is already very complicated.

So, I move on to the last missed call. It’s another woman.

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