Five more minutes—that seemed like hours—passed. “What the hell is taking him so long?”
“I don’t know.” Joe stared at his phone. “Nothing’s coming through on the account.”
“Maybe he has to type it up.”
Joe didn’t reply.
“Or maybe something came up that he had to attend to. A sick kid or something.”
Again, no answer.
“I mean, we don’t know anything about this guy.”
Finally, Joe regarded me. “We don’t know him, but I do know the guy who recommended him, and I trust him.”
“A guy you met at a BDSM club? Really?” I paced a few steps.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, I do, damn it. If you’d ever been a part of that community, you’d know how trustworthy they are. I met senators there, Bryce, and others. People whose careers would be ruined if the general public knew how they spent some of their free time. We all trust each other to keep quiet. No one in Snow Creek knows I’ve been there, do they?”
“Not that I know of. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’d probably be thinking the same thing. But the guy is trustworthy, and if he says the Spider is trustworthy, he is.”
“For the record, man, no judgment here.”
“I know that. I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.”
“And it’s safe with me.”
“I know that too.”
“I’m sorry I told Marj about the other stuff.”
“I know. I’m sorry I told Melanie. Except that I’m not.”
“Me neither.”
“You better treat my sister right. I’ve never laid a hand on you in my whole life, but I will if she sheds a single tear over you.”
She’d already shed many, but Joe didn’t need to know that. I simply nodded. I’d felt like kicking the shit out of myself for making Marjorie feel even a morsel of sadness.
It wouldn’t happen again.
“Still nothing,” Joe said.
“He must have gotten sidetracked.”
“I don’t like this.” Joe shoved his phone back into his pocket.
“Me neither. Nothing we can do about it now. I should get to work.”
“There’s plenty of it. I’ll check in with you later.”
I nodded and walked back to the office building, leaving Joe staring at the ground.