Page 38 of Last Seen
The steps are solid maple, built a century earlier, to withstand all manner of activity. They have a runner to cushion chilly feet. Her dad converted the string light bulb to a switch. She flicks it, and the stairwell lights up. Bright. Cheery. Photos of her and her dad on the walls, both of them aging as she goes down. There’s never been anything to fear in the basement before, outside of the specters from her youth. At the bottom step, darkness stretches into the corners, but the flick of anotherswitch illuminates the space. The musty scent greets her, but it’s not unusual; it’s hard not to have a little must in a Virginia basement.
The space looks as familiar and homely as always. It’s organized, with her dad’s shirts hanging up above the washer and dryer, the color-coded boxes for their holiday ornamentation stacked against the far wall. There are two chairs—one thick with fur, clearly where the cat spent his day. She doesn’t see any wet spots anywhere.
A fluke. She must have knocked the door loose and it swung open. She was buzzing around like a bumblebee in a jar this morning.
She runs up the stairs two at a time for a little exercise, then flicks off the light and latches the door well.
“Sorry, buddy. What a good boy you are,” she calls to the cat, making him an extra-large helping of tuna in apology, then heads upstairs to change. She must steel herself to see all the people she’s escaped from. All the people who never escaped.
Taco Joe’s smells divine, and Halley’s mouth waters as she enters the eclectic space. She hasn’t been here in ages. And despite its being old, with its wood-topped tables sticky and soft from many coats of polyurethane shellac, and loud, with its combination of Mexican and American rock, and its admittedly questionable commercialized decor from years of Cinco de Mayo celebrations past, the place has the best queso she’s ever tasted. It’s a popular choice.
Kater sees her enter and waves her over. There are a few people she recognizes, and standing relaxed against the bar as if he wants to be seen is Aaron, wearing a baseball cap with a largeMon the front—his dad owns the tractor-supply company in Jasper; it’s their logo. He smiles widely at her, and she can’t help but put a mental image of Theo right next to him. Nope. Aaron doesn’t stand a chance. He’s cute, but Theo eclipses him in every way. It’s like comparing a man to a boy. Not that Aaron isn’t a man; he’s just more like a greyhound, and Theo is built.She likes built. He makes her feel delicate. Safe. She’s not that small, is really normal height, five-seven in her sneakers. He’s big enough she has to tilt her head up to look into his eyes, and he can lift her with ease.Come on, Halley. You’re leaving the man. Give it up already.
She flows into the group, hugging, chatting, catching up, eating queso and drinking a spicy jalapeño margarita, until Kater takes her aside and says, “Okay, I want to hear it all.”
“All?” The tequila is making her feel a little loose.
“The whole story about your sister and your mom. Did you find out anything today?”
“Oh, I found out a lot. My sister was married to a real jerk. Once he heard I didn’t know where she was, he couldn’t have cared less about the situation. Talked to a friend of hers, too, who did the missing persons report. She assumes there was foul play, but she didn’t think the husband was involved. And then I talked to a therapist who used to see her in Boston. She couldn’t tell me anything, but she did warn me to stay away.”
“Which you absolutely should. We don’t need you showing up onForensic Files.”
“You watch that?”
“Girl. I am obsessed.”
And they’re off, talking about the goriest and bloodiest and strangest cases that they know of, until Halley goes for another margarita and sees a man across the room staring at her. He has dark hair and dark eyes, and she feels like she should know who he is. He’s not being subtle about looking at her, and with everything going on, that makes her uncomfortable.
She turns her back on him and shifts to the side but can still feel his eyes on her. She glances over her shoulder, and he’s gone.
“Did you see that guy in the corner?” she asks Kater, who shakes her head.
“You know him?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before. I gotta pee, will you go with me? Just in case he’s lurking?”
“Sure.”
She doesn’t know why the stranger made her so uncomfortable, but with Kater by her side, it all seems fine again. She’s a fun girl, always has been. Smart and protective. Halley used to love spending time with her when they were younger. She tells a naughty joke, and Halley forgets about the stranger. Forgets about most everything troubling her.
When they rejoin the group, she switches to water and has a couple of tacos, enough to stop her head from swimming. She chats with Aaron for a little while, and a few other friends, then finally decides to call it a night. She still feels bad about Ailuros and wants to make it up to him with some extra snuggles.
“Going so soon?”
The deep, sardonic voice is attached to the stranger who was staring at her, and he’s blocking her way out.
“Yeah. Long day. Excuse me.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Halley looks closer, but no, she doesn’t. He seems to enjoy her gaze, doesn’t shy away or allow his eyes to drift, just drills her with his own stare. His hair looks freshly cut, and his eyes are so dark they could be black. They aren’t brown, though; she thinks they’re a dark blue. He has a three-day scruff of dark beard that some women would find sexy. He wears jeans that look well broken in and a black T-shirt that shows off sinewy muscles. She sees a black leather jacket on the stool behind him, notices he’s also wearing black biker boots. He’s older, midforties. He’s familiar in an uncomfortable way, but she doesn’t ever recall meeting him. She shakes her head.
“I’m sure we’ve never met. What did you say your name is?”
“I didn’t. You have a good night, Halley.” He turns and strides away, disappearing through the throng. The bell on the door lets out a merry jingle, and he’s gone.
“Who was that?” Aaron is standing next to her now, a look of distaste on his face.
