Page 101 of Golden Touch
I’llalwaysbe the person who did this to all ofyou. You’d probably forgive me eventually. But I don’t want to ask that of you. It’s just so unfair.
I’m sorry. And I already miss you so much. But it’s better like this.
Love,
Livia
“No fucking way!” I shout.
“Whoa,” says Mitch from over my shoulder. “She bailed?”
“No,” I bark. “That’s not how this ends.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” my brother asks.
That’s the right question.
CHAPTER 44
NASH
I drop Mitch off in front of our dad’s house. He’s not allergic to cats. “Here’s the keys.” I toss them. “See you in the morning.”
“Hey! Aren’t we seeing Dad tonight?” he asks.
“He’ll have to wait. Or you could call someone else for a ride over there.”
“Nash!”
But I’m already getting back in the car. Before I drive away, I ask my phone to call Benito.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“Livia did a runner,” I bark. “Where can I find this cousin of hers. Or the brother?”
“You know I can’t give out citizen’s private details,” he says.
“I’m not asking you to run their license plates, Benny. I could google their last known locations, but why should I when my high school buddy has recently looked them up himself?”
Benito sighs. “I’m a very disciplined law enforcement officer. If I knew the whereabouts of Jennifer Witcomb of Arby Lane in Vergennes or Brady Willis of 300 Weaver Street in Winooski, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Vergennes,” I mumble. “Where’s that.”
“Google it for fuck’s sake,” Benito says. Then he hangs up.
I decide to try the brother first. Winooski is only a quick drive, and I watch for Livia’s car on the road ahead of me. But I don’t find her.
The house on Weaver Street is old—and broken up into a host of apartments. I step inside, find the door marked WILLIS and knock.
A voice calls out a greeting from the other side of the door. “One second, hot stuff.” Then the door jerks open, and I’m face to face with a skinny young man whose face contracts into a grimace. He has Livia’s eyes, though, and they’re the most attractive feature on his face. “Wrong apartment, pal,” he says.
“I don’t think so. I’m looking for your sister.”
The grimace deepens. “You’re the new boyfriend? You just missed her. Told her it was a bad time. I’m expecting company, okay?” He looks behind me into the vestibule, which is empty, then tries to close the door.
“Hold up,” I say, blocking the door open with one quick motion. “Your sister turned up here looking for your help?”
“Well, yeah. But she looked okay to me.” He shrugs. “I got a small space. No room for guests. She understood.”
