Page 13 of His Wisconsin Wallflower
The officer gestured to three plastic chairs. “Please wait. Someone will come for you shortly.”
Quinten squeezed into one of the uncomfortable chairs, his frame too large for its small design. Corbin plopped down beside him, slouching like it was second nature. They didn’t wait long before Maureen came over, her familiar face stirring a mix of memories. She’d been in his class, quiet and kind—not part of the popular crowd.
“Quinten,” she greeted, a hint of surprise in her tone. “What brings you here?”
“We’re reporting Vanessa Clark missing.” He leaned forward. “She hasn’t answered her phone, and her house is empty. Her mom doesn’t know where she is, either.”
Maureen listened intently, jotting down notes. “Has she been in contact with any friends or other family?”
Quinten shook his head. “Not that I know of. It’s… complicated. Her mom’s not doing well. Vanessa’s been spending a lot of time there.”
“All right,” Maureen said, nodding. “We’ll file a missing person’s report and start looking into it. I’ll keep you updated.”
As they left the station, his little brother said, “The police have more resources than us. They can check credit cards, traffic cameras, and probably more.”
Quinten grunted. “I hate waiting. I feel like I should be doing something.”
Corbin clapped him on the back. “It’s like being on a football team. You might have been great on the field, but you relied on your teammates. Now, rely on the police.”
Quinten chuckled, and the tension seeped from his body. “When did my little brother get so smart?”
“Always been smart,” Corbin shot back with a grin. “You’ve just been too dumb to notice.”
Quinten smirked and lunged, pulling his brother into a mock wrestling hold as they laughed. For a moment, the weight of the day lifted, if only slightly.
Chapter Nine
The tall glass cases that had been filled with sandwiches and pastries were now almost empty as the lunch rush simmered down. Raisa rearranged a few frosted doughnuts, put a discount sign on her colorful fruit tarts then wiped down the counter. Her gaze drifted to Quinten, who sat at a corner table, scowling at his phone’s screen. His expression was fierce, and his broad shoulders were tense—not a happy bunny.
He tapped the screen once, then leaned back with a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. The curls flopped back in a perfect style.
Curious, Raisa hesitated for a moment before deciding to approach. She placed a fresh slice of apple pie and a mug of steaming coffee onto a tray and crossed the room.
Quinten gave her a cursory glance. His expression was still tense, and she almost took a step back.
“I didn’t order anything.”
“I know, but it looked like you needed something sweet and strong.” After setting the tray down in front of him, she gave him a tentative smile. “On the house.”
Quinten looped an arm around her waist and squeezed her opposite hip. “Sweet and strong, hmm. Are you offering yourself?”
What?“Emm, I...” She shook her head to unfog her mind and tried to summon a good answer. Even through the thick denim waistband, she could feel the heat from his palm as it warred with the heat in her face.Darn it. I’m blushing again.Stepping back, she said, “Made the pie this morning with a mix of Honeycrisps and Pink Lady.” She sounded way less confident than she would have liked.
“It smells divine.” His tone was distracted, and he was the epitome of... sadness.
Despite her reservations, she scuffled forward again and placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Sighing, he gestured to his phone’s screen. “I was just chatting with Gavin. We’re worried about Vanessa. She seems to have vanished, and I’d like to talk to her. He’s been around town, asking about her. Nobody knows anything.”
“Vanessa Clark.” She swallowed, and her stomach twisted at the mention of her name. The woman had been one of her biggest tormentors in high school—beautiful, popular, and ruthless—often the instigator of cruelty.And of course, he’s worried about her.Vanessa had been in his group of peers—an equal—whereas Raisa had been on the outside, existing in the periphery and fun to tease.
As if noticing her spiraling thoughts, Quinten continued. “She’s our bookkeeper, and I desperately need someone with a head for figures. The books look fine on the surface, but something isn’t adding up. I think she’d have some answers, but I can’t get ahold of her.”
“Do you want help?” Raisa asked, surprising even herself.
“Actually, the police are already looking for her. It’s like no one has seen her for days.”
“No, not I didn’t mean with finding her. I wouldn’t know where to start, even if I tried. No, I mean, with the books. I’m good with numbers.”
