Page 59 of Being Lost

“I’m thinking about keeping you safe. Keeping you close to my side so no one can ever hurt you.”

My stomach tightens at his words which seem more than anyone has ever offered me before, but that won’t solve my problems. “I still won’t be able to see Beth.”

His eyes close briefly, and I think he’s making an effort to pull himself back to the matter at hand. “We could involve the feds. Give them everything. The evidence we found, the possibility Alder’s bringing drugs in via a tunnel.”

“But we don’t actually know that. It’s, as you said, just a possibility. Something that never materialised. An expressed wish that never came to reality.”

“Then I think we ought to find out.” He holds out his hand. “Ready to come see where Token’s got to?”

I let him take my hand, feeling his large calloused fingers wrap around my much smaller softer ones, making me feel for once, petite. As he leads me out of his office and along to the room where their tech guy apparently holes up, I realise that, as I’d requested, he’s including, not excluding, me from matters that affect my life so much.

If I were ever going to be with another man for any length of time, I’d want to be his partner, someone he can come home to and discuss what’s gone right or wrong with his day, and a sounding board for those times when he’s got problems. Somehow I suspect that his ex-wife Kim hadn’t encouraged him to do that. From the little he’s told me, she seems like someone totally wrapped up in herself. While he was silently fighting to stay on top of his life, where was she? Having an affair going by what he’d said.

I know there would always be things coming under the heading club business, but surely not everything about his club would be kept under wraps?

Perhaps for now, I should just be content he’s not shutting me out.

He raps on Token’s door, opening it only when a voice calls out.

Token looks up with a grin. “Don’t know why you do that, Prez. You can always walk straight in.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caught you with a sweet butt sucking your dick,” Lost retorts. “While I don’t mind, I brought company.”

From what I’d seen the night before, I’m sure Lost probably wouldn’t be surprised by anything his men get up to.

Token doesn’t seem bothered. “She was under my desk,” he retorts. “It helps me think.” His attention switches to me. “Hi, Patsy.” Token gives me a little finger wave.

Lost grabs a chair and places it in front of me, then takes one for himself. “What you got? Anything new on those plans?”

Token throws a not too subtle look my way, but Lost inclines his head then raises it again. He grimaces. “Cad and I have been wracking our brains.” He turns his screen around so it’s pointing at me and Lost.

Lost sits forward. “This is it?”

“One of them, then there’s this…” Token taps at the keyboard and another plan comes into view.

Lost examines them for a moment, his brow furrowed as he looks on. Then he suggests, “Superimpose them.”

Token’s lips press together. He swings the screen back around and starts tapping again, then uses the mouse, looking like he’s dragging something across. He stares at the result, then shakes his head.

“Well I’ll be fucked,” he says, turning it so we can see. “It at least looks like something. But, what?”

“An engine?” I ask. Not that I’d know. But it’s circular and looks like something I’ve seen some place.

“Not like any I’ve come across,” Token offers.

“Nor me.” Lost leans back in the chair and stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. Next, he folds his arms. “What if I said, a tunnel?”

“Tunnel?” Token looks confused. If it were a man other than his president sitting in front of him, I reckon he’d scoff. “Nah, it can’t be. Dimensions are wrong, they…” His voice trails off and he looks again at the screen. “You know what it could be? Ventilation.”

Lost unfolds his arms and sits up straight, examining the plan more carefully. “What’s this?”

There are a long string of letters and numbers. When the plans were separate, they’d be odd letters scattered across the screen with big gaps between them. Now they’ve been combined, they come together in lines.

Token narrows his eyes, and his lips thin. Then with a sudden movement, he takes the screen back and calls up something else.

Lost stands, leans over the desk, then sits back down. “Something else was in that box, Patsy. A newspaper article about a group of women who disappeared. Phil ever mention anything like that? Can you recall it at all? I know it’s twenty years back.” He nods at Token. Token presses a few keys and a printer whirrs. Shortly, I’m holding the article in my hands.

I examine it. Six pretty young women looking like a group of high school students standing posed for a photo, kitted out with hiking gear. I don’t recognise the location at all. Quickly I scan the words, in my periphery vision, I notice Token picking up his phone.

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