Page 9 of Belonging to Them
Finally, a male voice comes through my phone’s speaker.“This is Detective Marks, with Missing Persons.”
“Hello,” I say, “I need to report my brother as missing.”
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?”
“Um…” I think back.It was the middle of April.“Almost three weeks ago?He said he was going away for a bit.”
“Stop right there.He told you he was going away?”
“Yes, but I got this weird note about owing someone, and if I tell anyone, they’ll kill him.”
“That could be anything,” Detective Marks says in a gentle voice.“Baldwin told me you’ve been through a lot recently.If your brother were truly missing, he wouldn’t have announced he was going away.”
“He never said how long he would be gone,” I say, “but this isveryunlike him.”
“He’s never left for long periods of time before?”
He has, when he’s been on a manic gambling spree, but I don’t want to tell Detective Marks this.
As if sensing my reluctance, and the reasoning for it, Detective Marks says in a kind voice, “It’s hard, sometimes, when family disappoints us like this.Ms.Marchand, I would really like to help you, but anyone else in my place would tell you the same thing…it sounds as if your brother doesn’t want to be found, in which case, there’s nothing we can do about it.I’m sorry and I hope he comes around soon.”
Before I can respond, the call ends.I stare at my phone for a long moment, until the screen goes black.
Maybe Tommy’s not really missing…but the note I hid in my purse is real.
THREE
Kingston
“I’m taking some more time,” I say.
Before I got together with Ella, I was one of those workaholic freaks who loved Mondays.I liked the possibilities that lay ahead, the tasks before me that I would crush throughout the week, the meetings I knew I’d have to navigate, the contacts I’d need to nurture.
Now, I still love Mondays and all that shit, but a large part of my mind is consumed with the knowledge that this daily grind and hustle is keeping me away from my girl.I no longer want to arrive at the office at six a.m.and stay until eight or nine p.m.
Kristin sits across from me in the more casual area of my office, with two loveseats facing each other, and an armchair.
She freezes with her fingers above her tablet and says, “Wait, can you repeat that?”
“I’m taking some more time.”I lean back against the cushions and flick a piece of lint off of my suit’s cuff.
“Yeah, I definitely didn’t hear you correctly,” she says, a faint smirk on her lips.
“Very funny.I love this place, love everything I’ve built here.But I have other priorities, now.”
I had other priorities before—my family that I made with Rayanne, our son, Joel.But she pushed me to work hard all the time, because there was never enough wealth for her.And then, she traded me in for a wealthier model and kept my son from me.
It takes conscious effort for me to stop clenching my fists every time I think of them.
“Hey, sorry for making fun,” Kristin says.“I think it’s good for you to step back if that’s what you want.”
“Thanks,” I say, “and I’m not frowning at you, just at…old memories.”
She nods.
“But this is what I wanted to speak with you about,” I say, shoving aside the unpleasant thoughts.“How do you feel about taking on more responsibilities here?You’ve gone through a lot lately.The plan had always been for Joel to eventually step into my role, but obviously that’s never going to happen….”
Because he’s stuck in jail.And after sentencing, there’s no question in anyone’s mind that he’ll be in prison for a long, long time.
