Page 5 of All In Good Time
“But it hasn’t helped anyone. It only hurt them more.”
“But it isn’t over. Listen, I’ll get people on the lookout. For now, look out for yourself and that girl. See if you can find anything about where Derek is. Who knows, he might be closer than you think.”
Becca took a deep breath and stepped back, letting Winston’s comforting hand fall from her shoulder. She sniffed and brushed away her slowing tears. She didn’t feel better, but she didn’t feel like complete shit. He was right. Maybe Derek could be found easily, if she just started looking.
She nodded. “Thanks, Winston.”
He smiled. “Anytime, kid.”
She turned and walked back toward the house.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he called out to her.
She stopped and peeked over her shoulder.
“Can you at least stay in tonight? I don’t want my girl running around at night looking for someone.”
She smiled, loving the protective side of this father for his daughter. “Alright.”
“’Night, Rebecca.”
“Goodnight.”
She turned back and walked inside as his truck roared back to life and left the driveway.
When she was back inside, the girls were already situated in front of the TV. There was a wash of relief to see that Mal was safe for now, smiling softly and enjoyingBedknobs and Broomsticks. She took note of the long-sleeved shirt Mal had picked to wear from Becca’s closet as pajamas, then locked the front door and left the girls to safely enjoy their night alone.
She, instead, grabbed a notebook, a phone book, and headed to the telephone. While the sounds of upbeat trumpets played on in the background, she settled into a stool at her counter and began dialing the numbers of anyone who might know where Derek Stokes was.
* * *
“Becca.”
She gasped and rose from where she had fallen asleep. For a few moments, she forgot where she was. There was still no sunlight coming in through the dark windows, and once she took in the surroundings, she realized she was exactly where she had been before—sitting at the kitchen counter, with the phone book open to page three hundred, which had become her makeshift pillow. The phone was off its hook and in her hand—the dial tone faint away from her ear.
Mal was looking at her, her mouth open in surprise, since Becca had popped up so suddenly from her uncomfortable slumber. Becca glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock.
“What?” She stood up, alarmed. “Are you okay?”
Mal nodded. “I’m fine.” She said in a low whisper.
Becca relaxed and sat back down, rubbing at her eyes. She must have been asleep for half an hour, and her lower back ached from sitting at the kitchen chair for so long. “Good.”
“What’s that?” Mal pointed at the open notebook with scribbles lining the page.
Becca’s handwriting had been hasty, so even she could barely read the names of people she had scrawled in the off chance they would be someone to contact about Derek, and it was even messier from where she had scribbled out several others. Becca covered it with her hand.
Becca felt low. No one knew where Derek was. Even Brent and April, who were the only options she thought might lead somewhere, had just said that Derek’s favorite whore should be the one to keep track of him and hung up. She knew it was a long shot, considering they’d not been friends with him for a while, but at this point, she’d been desperate. Only one person had seen Derek, but it was the day of their fight, and they couldn’t remember what time it was. Plus, nothing they gave her was anything to go off of.
Dead end after dead end after dead end.
“Why are you awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep, and then I remembered something. I think I might know where he is.” Mal’s voice was cautious, a little nervous.
Becca’s heart spiked the same way it did when Mal woke her saw, and her sore back straightened. “What? Where?”
“I saw a map in Derek’s car the other day. I didn’t think anything of it then, but it was a map for Madison, Wisconsin.”
