He nods, unsurprised. I wonder how long he’s known and kept silent.
“With the podcast, I was worried?—”
“I get it.” He blows on his coffee before taking a sip. “How bad is it?”
I shrug. “Nothing we haven’t seen before. It’s just the number that’s impressive. I fundamentally don’t understand how these people have so much free time and why they would spend it spewing such vile hate at someone they don’t know.”
“People like being outraged, unfortunately. It’s the one emotion that’s almost guaranteed to elicit a reaction. That’s what social media preys on: sparking outrage to increase engagement.”
“But what’s the point of it all?”
“Given that you’re talking to a guy with zero social media presence, I have no idea. I’ve got better things to do with my time. Speaking of, after I drop Lanny off at school, I’m headed to the airport for a bit to catch up on paperwork. I heard you mention the grocery store a second ago. If you want to send me the list, I’ll take care of it on my way home.”
I give him a grateful smile. He could have come down on me for resuming Sicko Patrol, but he didn’t. He understands that my need to protect my family is at the very core of my being.
Sam is a good man—a great partner and father to our kids. Which is why I hate that I’m about to give him bad news. “I heard from Taylor this morning.”
A muscle along his jaw twitches. He can already tell from my tone that it’s not good news.
“She hasn’t been able to find anything.”
He shoves a frustrated hand through his hair. “Even from the calls?”
“She’s just as surprised as we are. She’s going to keep looking, though. She’s pretty pissed she hasn’t been able to pick something up on him.”
Sam sags against the doorframe. Being falsely accused of murder has been a tremendous weight on his shoulders. I notice more lines around his eyes than he’s had in the past, and more gray hairs near his temples. Recently, he’s been having trouble sleeping too. More often than not, I feel him tossing and turning beside me late into the night.
I think what’s hardest for him is the uncertainty of it all. The DA chose not to press charges against him for Varrus’s disappearance, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind in the future. The DA is certain Varrus is dead, that Sam killed him, and that the calls are a hoax to deter suspicion.
Each morning we wake up, there’s no guarantee Sam won’t be in jail by the end of the day. That kind of stress takes a toll.
“Maybe the podcast will flush Varrus out,” he offers. “Especially if the next episode focuses on blaming me for his disappearance. I’m sure he won’t be able to resist calling to gloat.” His voice is understandably bitter.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” I tell him. “I know how difficult all this has been on you.”
He gives me a tired smile. “You’ve been falsely accused of being Melvin’s accomplice for years.”
“We should start a club,” I joke.
“I’d be too afraid of who else might try to join,” he says with a laugh.
From down the hallway, I hear Lanny jangling the keys with an impatient, “Let’s go already!”
Sam pushes off the door. “Duty calls.” He nods toward the computer. “Don’t spend too long on that stuff. Remember our agreement: no more letting fear dictate our lives.”
“One more hour, then I’m done,” I tell him. I hope it’s a promise I can keep.
He comes around the desk, leaning over to press a kiss to my forehead, and then my lips. He lets it linger for a moment. I shiver, memories of the night before warming me from the inside.
“Seriously? Ugh!” It’s Lanny. Apparently, she got tired of waiting for Sam and came to investigate what was taking him so long. “Look, you give me the keys and let me drive myself, and you can keep doing whatever this is,” she says, waving a hand at us.
Sam grins, catching my eye with a wink. He straightens and turns back to Lanny. “Nice try. Let’s go.”
Later that morning Connor brings his laptop into my office and takes his usual spot in the recliner under the window in the corner. I quickly click away from Sicko Patrol and check the clock,surprised at how late it’s gotten. I promised Sam I’d only spend another hour at most working on this, yet somehow I’ve lost most of the morning to it.
With a sigh, I mentally push Sicko Patrol aside and focus on my actual paying work. Since returning from North Carolina after solving the Juliette Larson case several months ago, I’ve been mostly working on background checks. My boss, J.B., has been incredibly understanding. She knows I’m one of her best investigators when it comes to missing persons, and that my reputation has, in turn, bolstered the agency’s reputation.
She also knows that missing persons cases are emotionally draining, and I need time to recover. Now, with the podcast, I’m guessing she’s happy to keep me working in the background. Not that she’s ever really cared about my history and connection to Melvin Royal, but it’ll just be easier if she doesn’t have clients asking questions about me.