Page 19 of Caged

Cate

Back at the office I asked Jay to look up the address he’d found in the trash and do some online digging while I went through Wendy’s phone.

I completely lost track of time as I read through dozens of text threads and hundreds of emails. Wendy had been socially active until about six weeks ago, when she slowly faded away from her friends before disappearing altogether.

“Sheppard.”

“Yeah?”

“Did Darling say anything about Wendy quitting her job?”

“No, I would’ve mentioned it.” He sounded offended.

“I was afraid you’d say that. According to one of her friends, she quit last week. All communication from Wendy stopped Thursday night, at least on this phone.”

I went back to reading the texts, forming a time line as I did.

Jaden stood up and stretched, loudly, breaking my concentration.

“Must you do that?”

“Do what?” he asked. His lop-sided grin reminding me of his father and brothers.

“Make so much noise?” I couldn’t hide my irritation.

“Whatever. I’m getting lunch. Unless that’s a problem too?”

It wasn’t. In fact, it was a blessing.

“It’s not.”

I’d brought leftovers, so I warmed them up in the employee kitchen and ate at my desk while I checked Wendy’s call log and listened to her voicemails. Making a list of any number not listed in her contacts for Jaden to research when he got back.

A glance at my watch told me he’d be back soon.

Wendy’s voicemails didn’t have anything to help find her, but a friend had left several messages. The messages made it seem like this wasn’t the first time Wendy had ignored her friends for a day or two (her friend’s words, not mine).

I had just opened Wendy’s laptop when Jaden’s voice disrupted my train of thought. He was talking to Meg from our doorway.

Seriously? He can’t stand by her desk like a normal person?

“Thanks, Meg.”

When he came in the room he asked, “Have you moved at all since I left?”

I held up my bowl. “I warmed up my lunch.”

“But you ate at your desk.”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t. I guess I just forgot I work with a robot.”

Don’t let him get to you. Don’t argue with your boss’s son.

I mumbled, “I’m not a robot,” as I straightened the stack of papers on my desk. Was it a crime to like my desk neat and organized?

“You know you don’t get a gold star or extra credit for working yourself to death, right?”

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