Page 37 of Being Lost

I started turning to grin at Alex—despite the ignominious ending, it had been a small victory—when instead of landing on her, my eyes found Lost.

He was staring at me, and as I wondered how long he’d been there, my cheeks began to burn, not only with embarrassment, but that he was so obviously trying to adjust himself in his tight-fitting pants. The denim that I’d previously noticed hugging his ass, was now definitely bulging out in the front.Because of me?

I couldn’t think of another reason. As far as I knew he’d just been in a meeting, and while I had no idea what would have gone on, I doubted it would be anything to get him aroused.

Then he’d told me I was sexy. Me. Sexy.

I hadn’t known how to respond. But I didn’t have to. Like a switch being thrown, Lost was all business, quickly summoning Dan then getting us seated in his office. He didn’t waste time before dropping a bombshell on me.

Now I’m trying to get my head around it.

I’m stunned at their belief it’s me Alder is trying to find. They must have it wrong, and he does suspect Dan’s alive. What on earth would Alder want with me? I have no idea.

That Phil had died a rich man and had left me nothing wasn’t any more than I’d expect. We hadn’t played happy families in a very long time. I’m not sure we ever did. I’d kicked him out and refused to take his ill-gotten earnings not wanting to be beholden to him in any way. If he had left me anything, I’d probably have given it away. Who’d want to touch dirty money earned in dubious ways? Especially now I knew he was into ruining lives, by dealing in drugs, protection money and sex trafficking. No, Phil had never given me anything I wanted to keep, except for my children.

Something, a thought, is niggling at the back of my head, but I can’t seem to get hold of it. It’s right there, at the edge of my consciousness, dredged up by my busy mind. I’m vaguely aware that Dan’s broken the silence, but I concentrate on thinking instead, trying to cast my mind back to a time before it all went wrong and I realised what a crook I was married to.

I’d come in to ask Phil whether he wanted a coffee and found him frantically searching for something instead. “What’s the hurry, Phil?”

He spared only one quick glance my way. “I need to get to the bank before it closes.”

“Use an ATM if you want to get money out—”

“I don’t need fucking money.” He kept searching around in his desk. Then he looked up, his eyes narrowing. “Do you have it?”

My brow creased. “Have what?”

His eyes looked upward as if I should be able to guess. “The key for our safe deposit box.”

Oh, that. “It’s in my jewellery box. What do you need out of it, Phil?” We kept our wills, birth certificates, marriage licence and other stuff in there. As an accountant, one thing Phil did was keep our affairs in order. It’s an obvious wife question to ask, what he wants to look at and why.

Phil didn’t talk about money, but we always seemed to have enough. Could he be wanting to take out a second mortgage? That’s something I should know about.

“I’m not taking anything out. I need to put something in.”

“What?”

“For fuck’s sake, woman, some of my financial stuff.” He huffed as if he shouldn’t need to explain himself. “Now get me the key so I can get moving. This needs to be in there today.”

Phil hadn’t been the best husband, but he wasn’t usually so sharp—emotionless would describe him better. That’s why it’s stuck in my memory. I’d gotten him the key then watched as he’d rushed out of the door. He hadn’t taken his briefcase, I’d noticed, nor carried a bunch of papers in his hand. But whatever he was putting inside had to be important, at least to him. I remember questioning him when he’d returned, but he’d said it was something to do with his employment. That would have sounded plausible, except for the shifty look in his eyes. A look I was to become very familiar with.

My marriage had been going downhill for a while, and after that point, it had gotten worse. Phil no longer even pretended to be interested in sex and spent more time in his office with his door not only closed but locked. Something was wrong, but I hadn’t known what, until everything had become clear when the police had turned up to arrest him.

Our safe deposit box was rarely touched. I’d left the key with Beth in case she and Ink needed the deed to the house.

“Patsy?” Lost barks.

I give myself a little shake, realising I’d disappeared into my head. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

“You look like you’ve thought of something? Something you should share?”

I press my lips together, then speak, “I’m nothing to Alder. I avoided speaking to the man, and Phil never discussed his legitimate, let alone his nefarious businesses with me. I know nothing, except that my son is alive.” Lost raises his chin in encouragement. “Therefore, I have nothing of value. Phil and I parted ways, but as far as he was concerned, he went on to better things. I buried,” I glance apologetically at Dan, still having difficulty remembering that day which had almost been for real, “my son. Alder might want revenge on Connor if he were still alive, but he has no reason to take that out on me. He’s risking exposure, surely, by trying to come after me at all.”

Lost raises and lowers his chin. “But there’s something…?”

My face screws up as I reply to Lost. “If Alder thinks I have information he wants, it must be to do with Phil, and that can’t be recent. As I said, Phil and I barely spoke after he left. In recent years, I’ve had nothing to do with him at all. I don’t know if it’s anything or not, but a memory has just come into my head. It’s so long ago now, maybe twenty years back, and could be nothing at all.”

“Anything at this point could be useful,” Dart puts in. Dan’s looking at me quizzically as though thinking back, but he won’t remember as he was just two. As I recall, I’d just put him down for a nap.