Page 58 of Disgrace

“I don’t know, man. I just wanted to check if she’d texted. The last one I got was her asking me to wish her luck.”

“Before her interview, so that would be what, three twenty?” I rub the pressure that is building in my temples.

“No, one twenty five just before her lunch with Peitra.” Leon’s words are like a sucker punch, but they make no sense.

“What are you talking about?”

“She texted you, Jason. I saw her do it. She forwarded the message Peitra had sent her about wanting to apologise. She offered to take Sam to lunch, her way of saying sorry.” Leon’s tone would have irritated me if he didn’t look so fucking worried.

“She never sent me a text. I haven’t heard from her since this morning when I gave her a kiss goodbye. What the fuck are you talking about?” I yell.

“Okay, okay, why don’t we all just take a breath and calm the fuck down.” Will steps in, he places a calming hand on my shoulder, and as much as I want to shrug him off, losing it now will not help. I take the suggested deep breath and walk over to the kitchen. I perch on the edge of one of the stools. This makes no sense, but my gut starts twisting uncomfortably all the same. I open my phone and start scrolling. It’s possible she may have emailed me the message and not texted. It’s possible it could’ve gone into my junk folder, but even as I quickly scour the screen for her familiar username, I know that isn’t the case.

“I didn’t get her message.” My flat voice holds none of the raging emotions surging through me. I need to hold this together. I need to find Sam.

“She sent it I swear—”

“I believe you, Leon,” I interrupt. I can see Leon looks just as worried. “Peitra was in my office just before lunch. I checked my phone at the time and there was nothing, no missed calls but I didn’t check the deleted folder.” Leon peers over my shoulder.

“But your deleted folder is empty?” He points to the little waste bin icon with the content counter at zero.

“No, I didn’t check the other deleted folder. Anything that gets deleted goes to a hidden folder.” I tap Tax codes folder and my screen fills with hundreds of lines of data. “It’s not really hidden just labelled Tax Codes no one would actually want to open that folder.” I shrug when Leon adds his agreement. “Anyway the point is nothing is ever really deleted but only a few people know that. Daniel is a little OCD when it comes to security, and I can’t tell you how fucking glad I am that he is…look.” I tilt the screen, which now holds Sam’s message along with her question that if I thought she shouldn’t go, to text her right back.Fuck. I quickly search my phone for the tracker on her cuff and can see it’s still active which unfortunately gives me little comfort. It doesn’t necessarily mean she is safe. It does mean her cuff, at least is in one piece and is still at the address she was meeting Peitra. Like I say, not much comfort.

I march to the front door with Will at my heel.

“Wait!” Leon calls. “I’m coming with you!”

I nod my approval but don’t break my stride. In the taxi, Leon is busy getting dressed. I didn’t stop to wait but he bundled enough clothes together and came running from the building. Barefoot and sporting just his boxers but he was just in time to catch the taxi door as I went to slam it shut. I spend the time making some calls. I call my head of security, Patrick, to alert the authorities. Not sure what I am alerting them to but I insist some sort of call is made. I speak to the office manager at the Mission and confirm Sam never turned up for her interview and she didn’t call to explain why. My last call is to Daniel. I don’t even care if the guy is on extended paternity leave and has a new baby to contend with; all I care about is Sam.

The taxi slows enough for the red light on the door to change to green and I am out of the vehicle and taking the steps down to the bar two at a time. The door is wedged open and several men in paint splattered overalls are working in the room. Dust sheets cover the tables, chairs and the bar at the back of the room. The smell of wet paint is strong but the room looks nearly finished, other than the sheets. I check my phone again for the tracker signal. I’m definitely in the right place.

“Can I help you mate?” One of the painters, a big guy, more fat than fit, wanders over to us now that Will and Leon have joined me. They look just as confused as I feel.

“My girlfriend was here for lunch.” I say. His expression is comical as he looks around at the empty room amused at my statement. The place is clearly not ready to start trading.

“I don’t think so.” He gives a hearty laugh and his colleagues join in. I stiffen because there is fuck-all humour in this situation. I feel Will’s hand on my shoulder easing me back. I hadn’t even noticed how tight my fist was clenched.

“Do you mind if we have a look around?” Will smiles with an easy charm that isn’t remotely confrontational. I’m glad he’s here.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” He nods and backs away to allow us into the room. I quickly walk through the main room and spend the next fifteen minutes checking every door, cupboard and room.Nothing. I run my hands through my hair in agitation. This fucking stinks. Leon and Will have both conducted their own search will equal fruitless results. The man approaches again.

“Find what you’re looking for?” He grins but it’s more taunting than malicious. I shake my head and let out a heavy breath.

“Not exactly but maybe the police will have more luck.” I reach for my phone.

“I’m sorry.” A young lad blurts out behind the big man in front of me. We all turn to look.

“You’re sorry about what Jay?” the big guy grumbles.

“It was on the floor I thought it was lost property.” He fumbles in his overalls, his face a picture of guilt and apology. He holds his hand out as far from his body as humanly possible. The shine from the platinum reflects the overhead lights and glimmers when he opens his fingers. Sam’s cuff rests in his flat palm. I close my eyes, and my body starts to shake. I feel Leon step around me and I open my eyes to see him take the cuff from the young lad.

“Did you see the girl…did you see the girl who wore this?” Leon holds the cuff up so everyone in the room could see. They all fall silent but slowly shake their heads. “It’s really important guys. If you saw her, you need to tell us,” he urges.

“Honestly, mate, we haven’t. I thought you were yanking my chain about lunch. We got here at five this afternoon to work overnight. The bar is supposed to open this weekend, but they haven’t even installed the kitchen that’s why I thought you were joking.” He gives out a light laugh but snaps his mouth shut when I fix him with my glare. “I’m sorry, man, no one was here when we got here and I didn’t know the lad had found anything until a minute ago.” I turn away and pinch the pressure that is knotting nicely at the bridge of my nose.

“Okay, we believe you.” Leon’s voice is firm and seems to ease the growing tension. No one likes to be accused of lying, even if one of them is technically a thief.

“Come on we’re wasting time.” I state flatly and leave the basement.

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