Page 40 of The Missing Half

We pull up to my door and she puts the car in park. “But, Nic, be careful. Okay? Someone out there knows what we’re doing and doesn’t like it. I know you don’t want to believe Brad was the one who got to Lauren or took our sisters, but if he was, your relationship with him is not going to keep you safe.”

Chapter Twenty-one

The Funland kitchen is loud and bustling. Pans clatter onto stovetops, rubber-soled shoes squeak against the linoleum floor, grease sizzles in pans. I’m standing by the service station waiting to run an order when I feel a hand press gently into my shoulder blade. I turn toward it and have to force myself not to flinch. Brad. It’s been barely twenty-four hours since Jenna and I spoke to Lauren, and I’m still feeling jumpy and betrayed. I’ve avoided direct contact with Brad throughout my shift so far, but I knew this moment was coming. Still, I can’t meet his eye.

“You all right, Nic?” he says.

“I’m fine.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he just nods toward the food prep station where José, one of our cooks, is slicing a pizza on a round silver tray. “Would you mind running that to table thirteen for me? Aubrey just went on break.”

“Sure.”

José slides the tray onto the service station and I grab it, then turn to leave. I’m two steps from the door when Brad calls my name.

“When you get a second,” he says, “swing by my office, okay?”

I see him in sunglasses and a hat, hiding in the shadows of a playground waiting for Beth Anne to skip by. I see him in the back of Kasey’s car, his fingers frantic on the button of her jeans, his mouth too hard against hers. I see him driving slowly on that road outside Grand Rapids, see him stalking through the darkness to Kasey’s driver’s side door.

Stop,I think. This is Brad. He may be a creep, but he’s not a murderer. I believe it. I do.

And yet, as I look over my shoulder and flash him the most casual smile I can, my mouth is dry as bone. “Sure,” I say. “No problem.”

—

I don’t swing by his office. The idea of sitting across from him in that little windowless room, pretending he didn’t have an illicit affair with my sister, makes me claustrophobic. I know if I want to prove his innocence, I’ll have to talk to him sometime, but I’m not ready yet. I avoid crossing paths with him all day until nine o’clock rolls around and, finally, I can leave.

In the employee locker room, I grab my backpack and head to the back door that leads to the west-side parking lot. I don’t normally leave this way—it almost doubles my walk to the bike rack out front—but I don’t want to pass by Brad’s office. I push my palms into the metal bar and am stepping into the fading dusk light when I hear my name. Brad’s voice is unmistakable. A knot tightens in my chest as I turn to face him.

“You never paid me that visit,” he says.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot.”

“No biggie. Let’s talk now.”

“I can’t, actually,” I say. “I have to catch the—”

He waves a hand, cutting me off. “Don’t worry about the bus. My car’s out of the shop. I’ll give you a ride. We can talk on the way home.”

I don’t want to be alone in a car with him right now, but what could I possibly say to get out of it? “Okay, then. Thanks.”

Brad has an SUV, and once he’s pushed the seats down, my bikefits easily inside. I climb into shotgun, throwing my backpack in the space by my feet.

“So,” he says once he’s pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. He knows the apartment complex where I live, so I don’t have to give him directions. “I just wanted to check in with you. See how things are going. I know you have a lot going on right now.”

“Things are fine,” I say.

“Geez, Nic,” he chuckles. “Getting information out of you is like pulling teeth. How’s the community service going?”

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Because this is safe territory and I want to stay in it, I elaborate. “It can be fun, actually. I like being with the animals. They’re less complicated than humans.”

“Good. Good.” But he sounds distracted. “And what about all the legal stuff? I know you had a court date at some point. That happen yet?”

Shit, he’s right. I do have that coming up. I need to find out when. “Not yet.”

For a few minutes we drive in silence. “You must be busy though,” he says. “Between all that and work, do you have time for anything else? What about what we talked about last week? Are you still looking into Kasey’s disappearance?”

Questions and accusations churn inside my chest, but until I can confront him, they’ll be trapped there like moths with frenzied wings. I need time. To process, to dig deeper. To talk through everything with Jenna so I have her calm and analytical mind to balance my own frenetic one. “Not really,” I say. “Like you said, I have a lot going on.”

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