Page 51 of Proof

“A friend. College buddy.” Luna wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Chris knew when to stop the interrogation and changed the subject. He began to tell her about the cool Thunderbird that had caught his eye.

“Midlife crisis?” she joked.

“Huh. That hadn’t occurred to me. I just thought it would be cool to tool around in a vintage piece.” He cleared his throat. “But your brother might be onto something. You can buy a decent car for less than five thousand dollars. If you have the time and inclination, you can turn it for a hefty profit.”

“That could be a good project for you and Carter. Is he into cars yet?”

“No. He’s barely discovered girls. But I think he might enjoy something to add to his repertoire.” He snapped his fingers. “Let’s see. He’s twelve now. In five years, he’ll get his license. That would be plenty of time for him to refurbish a car.”

“Him? Are you going to participate?” Luna chuckled.

“Of course, but the car would be a good incentive for him. He can have it when it’s finished.”

“That actually sounds like a good plan. And you can do it at his and your leisure. It’s not as if that work would be on a schedule like his ball games.”

Chris kissed her on the forehead. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“Kinda.” Luna smiled.

Chapter Twelve

Monday

Where in the World Is Brendan Nelson?

The center was closed for the day, and Luna took the opportunity to do some sleuthing. Brendan had never returned her text, so she decided to call. She got a recording saying the mailbox was full. It was perplexing. Brendan wasn’t the type to let something go unattended, especially his voicemail. Ever since that summer, when he’d managed his sister’s healthcare, he’d felt responsible for his family and was always on call for any skirmishes, misunderstandings, or emergencies. He was the eldest, so it was incumbent on him to keep the peace among his five siblings.

She checked her junk mail. Nothing there. Something wasn’t right. She reached out to a mutual friend.

“Anthony! It’s Luna. How are you?”

“I am rather excellent. And you?”

“Couldn’t be excellenter,” Luna joked. She was always coming up with new words or portmanteaus, joining two words to form one, like mockumentary for mock and documentary, or brunch for breakfast and lunch. She had come up with one recently: shneakers, shoes that have rubber soles like sneakers. It was a mystery why the fashion industry hadn’t adopted it yet.

“What’s going on?” Anthony was always upbeat.

“Have you heard from Brendan?”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t. Been too busy with the kids. Yeah, he usually reaches out during the holidays, but I didn’t hear from him last year.”

“Me either. We were emailing daily during the pandemic, but then all communication stopped.”

“I suppose you tried to email him? Text?”

“Yep. I even tried to call, but the recording said his mailbox is full.”

“Now that’s strange. And a bit unsettling. He’d never allow that.”

“My thoughts exactly. Is there anyone you can contact to see if he’s okay?”

“I’ll reach out to his nephew. I have his info somewhere.”

“Great. Thanks.” Luna let out some air. “Be well and behave.”

“What fun is that?” Anthony hooted. “I’ll be in touch. One love.”

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