A shot of alarm made Mia sit up straight. “What do you mean?” she asked. “He was okay when I dropped him off this morning. He had a little argument with his brother, but nothing more than that.”
“You dropped him off?” Shirley’s words were stilted. “Um, when did you do that?”
“About three hours ago. For breakfast club.” Mia could feel her blood racing through her veins, adrenaline making her hands shake even harder. “Is he not at school?”
“Not according to the roll call. Let me check with his teacher again, and the breakfast club coordinator.”
“Can I stay on the line?” Breathe. She needed to breathe.
“Yes, let me put you on hold.”
Mia held the phone tightly against her ear, even though the hold music was blasting through the earpiece. She started rocking back and forth, her breath coming in short starts. He went to breakfast club. She saw him walk inside. It had to be a mistake.
“Ms. Devlin?” Shirley Mason said, taking her off hold. “I’ve spoken to both his teacher and the coordinator and neither has seen him today. Would you like me to call the police? Is there anybody that might know where he is? Your husband maybe?”
“My ex,” Mia said, her voice thin. The final decree had come through yesterday. “No, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t live anywhere around here. And yes. I think we should call the police.”
Michael’s face was ashen as he stood in the hallway of his high school and listened to his mom’s panicked words.
“I haven’t heard from Dad since Sunday,” he said, swallowing hard. “Do you think he took Josh?” he asked Mia.
“I don’t think so. But the police have to follow every angle.” She glanced at the uniform officer standing with her.
“Is there anywhere else you think he could be?” the officer asked him, keeping his voice low. “Anywhere secret that only you and he know about?”
Michael shook his head. “No. He likes being at home. He’s not an adventurous kid, he’s a homebody. And we haven’t lived here long enough for him to know of somewhere I don’t.” He glanced at Mia, his eyes wild with panic. “Do you think he ran away?”
“I don’t know.” Mia wrung her hands together.
“If he did, it’s all my fault,” Michael whispered. “I was such an asshole to him this morning.” He looked away, his eyes shining beneath the fluorescent lights. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?”
“The sooner we find him, the better,” the officer told him. “So if you think of anything, let us know.”
“Wait!” Michael said. “You’re not going, are you?”
“We need to go to Josh’s school. We want to talk to his friends, and then to the parents who might have seen something.”
“Let me come with you. I can help.” Michael shook his head. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”
He looked as frantic as she felt. Mia hugged him tightly, and Michael sobbed against her shoulder. “It’s all my fault,” he said again. “I hate myself.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, stroking his hair. “We’re going to find him.” She ran her tongue along her dry lips. “You could help by going home, in case he shows up. There’s a policewoman there, but you’re a friendly face.” She gave him another hug. “I’d really appreciate that.”
“Home. Yeah, that’s where he’ll want to be.” Michael nodded. “I’ll stay there until he gets back.” His hands clutched at her shirt, his palms clammy through the fabric. “He’ll be okay… right?”
She blew out a long mouthful of air. “He has to be, sweetheart. He has to be.”
Chapter Thirty
Cam had started packing up his apartment. After Brian’s visit, and his gentle kick in the ass, Cam knew there really wasn’t anything left for him to do but start moving on. It still hurt to think about her. Damn, it hurt to breathe. But what could he do? She’d chosen her sons and Cam was on his own.
Maybe the distance between L.A. and Hartson’s Creek would give him a chance to breathe again without it hurting. To look at his bed without imagining Mia laying in it next to him.
Who was he trying to kid? It would still hurt like a bitch. But at least it would hurt in a place where the sun was shining and he had a chance at a career.
He’d almost finished sorting through his clothes – huge piles of unwanted and unworn hoodies and t-shirts were scattered on the bed. Tomorrow, when Brian was back, they’d pack them up and give them to charity. Some of the jerseys with his name on the back could probably be auctioned off.
His phone rang just after three. It took him a few moments to find it, nestled beneath a Bobcats cap on the dresser at the far end of his bedroom.