Page 99 of Townshipped
“Well, aren’t you two the little couple?”
“Do you have business to discuss?” Aiden asks, standing just close enough behind me that I’m tempted to lean back on him to draw strength.
Who am I kidding? I want to touch him any chance I get.
Last night, after the kids were back in bed, we walked downstairs. Aiden kept a safe distance between us, poured himself a water and retreated back upstairs without another word except to say, “We’d better get some sleep,” and “Goodnight, Em.” He left me confused and longing for more of him.
“Who ah you?” Ty asks, popping around in front of my legs and looking up at Jesse through the screen door. “You poweese?”
“Yes, I am, little man,” Jesse says, softening his posture and squatting to Ty’s level. “What’s your name?”
“I Ty. I hab this many.” He holds up three fingers.
Jesse looks up at Aiden and smiles. “He’s a cute one. Is this the nephew everyone’s talking about?”
“It is,” Aiden says with that same stiffness he seems to always put on whenever Jesse’s in the picture.
“Well, I’ve got big things to discuss with Em, here. May I come in?”
“Sure,” Aiden says, stepping aside as Jesse opens the screen.
Aiden tells Jesse to grab a seat and says we’ll be right in. Once Jesse has walked past us, Aiden leans toward me and whispers that he’ll get Ty situated with a show. He asks me to wait for him before I go into the kitchen, so I do.
As soon as Ty’s cozy on the couch with a tablet cued up to play a few reruns ofWild Kratts, Aiden and I walk together into the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” I ask Jesse.
Aiden looks at me as if I offered to wash Jesse’s feet. Which, ew. No.
“I’d love a glass of water, thank you, Em,” Jesse says.
Aiden folds his arms as I fill a glass and bring it back to the table. I take the chair next to Aiden, across from Jesse. It’s then I notice Jesse has a folder with him. He lays it on the table in front of himself.
“We’ve had some developments in your case.”
My eyes haven’t left the folder. Whatever’s in there feels ominous.
“Developments?” Aiden asks, his spine stiffening and his shoulders going back just a touch.
I notice his change in posture even if Jesse doesn’t.
Jesse shifts his gaze to meet mine. “I forgot to ask if you wanted to meet alone. This is your private information. You have the right to keep it to yourself.”
“I want Aiden here,” I tell Jesse.
Aiden inhales and releases a breath that causes his chest to visibly rise and fall. His usually full lips are stretched into a thin line. Maybe he senses what I do.
“Alright, then,” Jesse continues. “We’ve had a couple come forward. It seems a young woman claiming to be your friend had an interest in reaching you. When she couldn’t find you, she notified your parents—at least this couple is claiming to be your parents. And they searched the registry with the aid of their local law enforcement.
“In the first twenty-four hours, it’s customary that law enforcement won’t do much to track a missing adult who voluntarily left a city with a viable plan and no other extenuating circumstances or seeming mental or emotional issues.
“But, seeing that you’ve been gone for three weeks and they couldn’t reach you, this couple took further steps right away. They found our entry after searching for police reports along the route they assumed you had taken.
“And that’s when they contacted us,” Jesse says with a nod of finality.
Aiden’s jaw clenches.
He knows.
