Because, in general, it was strange for anyone to be without their phone. But also because it was club policy not to be without your phone in case of emergencies.
“Someone has been threatening him for, what, years?” I asked, waving at it as Fallon kept scrolling.
“He never responded.”
“Until recently,” I agreed.
“He agreed to a meeting,” Fallon said.
“Because the threats were getting worse,” I said. “It sounded like they were closing in. And, knowing Valen, he decided to meet because he was worried about what they might do to us. Or the wives and kids.”
“Alright,” Fallon said, nodding. “I’ll have Chris look into this.”
“You’ll haveChris look into this?” I growled, infuriated with how calm he seemed.
“If it makes you feel better, I will call in Junior too.”
“Junior?” I repeated. I didn’t know Junior personally, but he was the son of a guy who’d done odd enforcing jobs and a woman who worked as a hacker who once exposed cheating husbands, but then graduated to more vigilante-style justice.
“He’s good with computers now,” Fallon said. “And phones.”
“You can’t be fucking serious right now. We need to be out there, talking to people, trying to track him down.”
“Babe, it’s been, what, an hour or two? He’s hardly even late, let alone missing. We can look into this, but give him the chance to show up. If we don’t hear about him before the morning, we can start worrying.”
“Start worrying,” I repeated, jaw getting tight.
“Babe, the fuck are you going to do if you head out right now? Knock on doors? You need a direction to go in. Chris and Junior could give some guidance. I know patience isn’t your forte, but you got to give them a chance to help us out.”
“He’s got a point,” Voss grumbled, voice low enough that only I could hear it.
Hearing it from him, someone who care about Valen almost as much as I did, made some of my rage slip away.
“Besides, you can’t go fucking anywhere with your breath smelling like liquor,” Fallon reasoned.
“Fine,” I hissed, turning away and heading back to the prospect room.
“What are you doing?” Voss asked, coming in behind me.
“Calling some of my contacts,” I told him as I pulled out my phone. “I don’t have a lot of them in the States, but I am going to do what I can do. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Can do that too,” Voss agreed, seeming—like me—to be happy to have some task to do, even if we didn’t truly believe we were going to be of much use.
And with Valen’s phone taken by Chris and Junior and their varied skills, we had nothing else to go on.
Morning felt like it was forever away.
Voss and I kept bringing each other cup after cup of coffee, despite being wide awake.
And the two of us jumped each time we heard footsteps. I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone opened the door to the prospect room.
“Damnit,” I hissed, seeing Nave walking in.
“Nice greeting, baby,” he said, giving me a tired, lazy smile. “What’s going on?
“Valen is missing.”
“Missing?” Nave repeated, dubious.