As the day progressed, Johnny prepared bowls. More than a hundred of them. He listened to Tabitha make conversation with people, heard her be considerate, understanding, reassuring and grateful to their customers. How she remained patient he wasn’t sure, but suspected that inside she was falling apart.
He watched her all afternoon. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop looking at her. And every time he did, he felt a resurgence of that kick in the gut he’d had earlier, but he didn’t get hard once.
He still found her incredibly attractive. That hadn’t changed. He just cared more about holding her up than lying down with her that afternoon.
The hours were some of the longest he’d ever known. Sometime after two, Tabitha glanced at him, and he caught a look of desperation in her eyes and motioned her over. Telling the customer at the front of the line that she’d be right back, she was at his side instantly. “Why haven’t we heard?”
“If something had happened, we would have,” he told her. “If there was any indication that Matt wasn’t returning, or anyone had seen him, or the judge ruled on the warrant, we’d have heard.”
“I know. You’re right.” She leaned over, kissed him quickly and went back to her duties.
Johnny had to take a moment before he could get back to his.
* * *
The kisses meant nothing. She knew that. Not in the big picture. They were a way to get through the day. A way to feel good so she had the strength to get through the next minute. The next hour. Johnny had kissed her that first time to distract her. And the second time, she’d just needed the feel-good. The connection.
By four o’clock that afternoon, she was ready to go to bed with him. She was going to need something that huge to take her mind off all the people out there who weren’t calling them.
Johnny’s phone rang just as she had that thought. There’d only been a couple of people in line over the past five minutes or so. She almost dropped the last bowl as she handed it out the window and then turned to watch Johnny.
Montgomery, he mouthed as he answered. Leaving the window, she moved toward him, taking his hand as he held it out to her. He squeezed. She squeezed back. For that day, Johnny was her lifeline. Just for the day.
She could hear a male voice. Couldn’t make out any words. Noise from the boulevard on which they were parked, coupled with the sound of the truck’s generator, made it impossible to know what was being said.
Johnny listened. He didn’t talk for what seemed an inordinately long time.
“Okay. Thanks, man.”
Okay, what? What was he thanking him for? Her palms were sweating and she felt a bit nauseous.
“Yeah.” And then, “Absolutely.”
She was staring at Johnny, who seemed to be focusing on their clasped hands. She didn’t think she could take much more.
“Yep,” he said and then rang off.
Tabitha wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he had to tell her when he finally raised his head and she saw the look in his eyes.
“Mark didn’t show up at the cemetery,” he said. “No one there has seen him since his mother’s funeral. No one in the area recognized his picture. And there’s no sign of Matt, either. Montgomery’s team showed recent pictures to people at the bus stop where he got off, to other bus drivers and at nearby establishments. They’ve followed every lead they can and...nothing.”
“That just means we don’t know what Mark’s mom loved. He’s taken him someplace she loved.”
He nodded and looked as though he might say something else. He didn’t, but his gaze was intense. “I’m sorry we don’t have more.”
“So we didn’t get him at the cemetery. Maybe they went to some flower place that specializes in lilies. He got that new lily tattoo because they were her favorite flower.” She couldn’t give up now.
“I want to promise you that we’ll find them. Today. And that Matt and Jason are Mark and Jackson.” His tone held no hint of promise at all.
She nodded and didn’t move away. “I know, Johnny. It’s the succeeder in you. But sometimes it’s not a matter of being the best at something. Being able to master it. Sometimes you have to believe before you see.” And while he might hope or think, she didn’t feel like he believed.
He studied her for a second, his blue eyes searching. She wanted to give him whatever fact or belief he was missing, but she didn’t know what that was. “Sometimes it has to matter enough,” she told him. “Whatever you’re looking for. Or hoping to achieve.”
He tilted his head, as though waiting for more.
She had no more. All she knew was that she believed she’d find her son. Jason, Jackson, whatever they were calling him. That she wouldn’t stop until she had him home. And that she was scared to death something would happen to him in the meantime.
“Besides,” she said, “we still have Detective Bentley trying to get a DNA warrant. Maybe not today, but possibly by tomorrow.”