Page 3 of Resurrect Me

“Oh, hmm,” he hums. “That’s…odd.”

“Okay…just…if you hear from him, please tell him to call me,” I say. “Did you make that reservation at Roux for us?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Set for eight pm. I’ll let him know if he calls or comes by.”

There’s a knot tangling in the pit of my stomach. If Sol had left his office after lunch, where did he go? He had a whole legion of colleagues and partners that would’ve wanted to meet with him after the polls were finalized. Surely, he met his partners out for lunch and would be coming home soon to celebrate with his family. I just wish his cell phone was on. I can’t shake the feeling that something serious has happened.

It's close to midnight, and I’m pacing the front of the house. From the dining room to the kitchen and back again. I still haven’t heard from Sol, can’t get him on his cell, and he nevershowed to the restaurant. The kids are in bed, and I did my best to pretend everything is okay, but this isn’t like him.

Reggie left the office at seven and said Sol never returned. To say I’m worried sick is an understatement. I can’t fathom a world in which Solomon Rountree is elected to office and disappears.

My phone rings from the kitchen counter. I bolt to pick it up. My heart is pulsing, and I’m praying it’s Sol. It’s not. The name Declan Harvey covers the screen. The man Sol ran against…and beat. You’d think they had bad blood, but the truth is Declan is a close friend of Sol’s. They’ve known each other since college. Our whole family adores Declan.

“Tacy?” His plummy voice has a hint of worry cloaked over it.

“Hi, Declan. Have you heard from Solomon?”

“No, that’s actually why I was calling you,” Declan says. “We were supposed to meet at three. I wanted to congratulate him on his big win. But he never showed. I thought that was…rather unlike him. I’ve left two voicemails and texted him.”

“I haven’t heard from him since this morning,” I say, as my heart threatens to burst from my chest. “I’m really fucking worried, Dee. This is weird. He’s never done this before. And this is his big day, for Christ’s sake. Why would he just leave and not say anything? Where the hell is he? He doesn’t just disappear. Ever.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up, Tacy. This is just all a big misunderstanding. Give it a little bit longer. He’ll pull into the driveway soon, I’m sure of it.”

Hours tick by, and no Solomon. His car never pulls into the driveway. He never returns my calls. And his cell goes straight to voicemail. It’s three AM, and I’m freaking the fuck out. I call my teenage neighbor to come over and sit in the house with thekids while they’re asleep so I can go out and look for Sol. Luckily, she’s still awake.

I back out of the driveway at warped speed, nearly knocking off a side mirror on the mailbox on the way out. I head to Sol’s office first, by some off chance his car broke down somewhere in route and he’s locked out. Maybe he fell asleep. He has been under significant stress lately with the election. Oh God, what if he had a medical emergency and no one knew about it? What if he’s just sitting in his car and had a heart attack? My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. My insides are twisted up in knots. And I can’t seem to clear the lump in my throat. I feel like the world is closing in on me.

But when I pull into the parking garage attached to Sol’s office building, the first thing I notice is his empty parking spot. I park my car and jump out. There are only two other vehicles on the first level, and neither are Sol’s. I leap back into the car and speed up to the second level. Circle around twice, then repeat on the third, fourth, and fifth levels. There are a few cars left by employees, but no Solomon.

“FUCK!” I yell as I speed out of the garage.

What do I do? Do I report him missing or is it too early? Don’t they have limitations on how fast you can report someone missing or is that just something they say in the movies? My head is spinning, almost as fast as my tires.

I drive downtown to the restaurants and bars Sol and his partners frequent. Maybe he broke down there. I mean, what else could have happened to stop him from coming home? If his car broke down, wouldn’t he have called a cab? What about calling me to reassure me he’s okay? Everyone has a cell phone these days and he knows my number by heart. Something is wrong.

I drive by Magnus, a high-end restaurant Sol typically takes his partners to for meetings. No Sol. The restaurant is dark, and the parking lot is empty save for a random shopping cart and a cardboard box. I drive back to Roux, where he was supposed to meet me and the kids for dinner. But I’m met with the exact same unsettling scene.

It’s four in the morning, and I’ve been driving around for hours, scanning alleys and parking lots, searching side streets I’ve never traveled before. Hoping I catch a glimpse of my husband. The love of my life. Our new Governor. Then the thought hits me, maybe he’s home and the neighbor didn’t tell me because she passed out on the couch. I don’t want to call and wake her, so I return home.

The driveway is empty, and the porch light is on. Oh my God. Sol, where are you?

Chapter 3

Tacy

One month later

“Mom, please. I just need someone to pick up Cammy and Ben this afternoon. Are you able to?” Asking my mother to help with the kids is like getting the cops to search for my husband. Fucking difficult and nearly impossible. Her Country Club membership and her new boyfriend seem to take precedence over her family. Even amid a crisis.

“I’ll pick them up,” she says.

“Thank you.”

We hang up without saying goodbye. My mother has never been the affectionate kind. The most I got out of her as a child was a pat on the head. She always said hugs and kisses spoil the child. So, when I became a mother, I made it a point to show my children love in every form. Including hugs and kisses. You’d think my mother would have broken down and given me a hug when my husband went missing. But all I got out of her was a half-hearted “I’m sorry”.

It’s been a month since Sol’s disappearance, and I am forcing myself to go through the motions. Pretending that everything is normal, and that I don’t have a missing partner. Work, home, work, home. When my mind is occupied, I’m able to function. But on the weekends, I can hardly keep it together. I feel dead inside. And yet every ounce of my being is screaming. I want to wake from this nightmare. I want my husband back. The children want their dad back. They’re even more confused thanI am, and the worst part is I don’t know how to properly comfort them. Or explain this to them. Because I can’t explain it to myself.

The day after Sol’s disappearance, I went to the police station and filed a missing person’s report. The officer on duty seemed to think I was pulling a prank:how could the new Governor have gone missing the day of his election?He asked me.I don’t fucking know. I thought that was your job to figure it out.I told him. Which probably started the whole investigation off on the wrong foot. But I was utterly distraught, and I couldn’t hide it.

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