Shifter (6 page)

“Not much, unfortunately,” Devan admits a little discouraged. “Dimitri is a grown man. His house shows no signs of foul play. His bank account hasn’t been touched since he went missing. They have nothing to go on. We are actually following a lead a woman at a nightclub my brothers and I went to a while back gave us. She said that he called her about a month ago. They met at her sister’s house over near St Michael’s Catholic Church.” He pointed north toward the state line even though the church wasn’t that far away. I’m not Catholic, but I know the church. It was about a ten-minute walk from my house. “They went for a walk. They argued about four blocks from here. She left him walking in this direction.”

I hear my new cat pacing again. A small part of me wishes that Devan would leave so that I can let him out. Wait, what? I know I’m not wishing this man away just so that I can let my cat have free reign over my house. I’m pathetic.

“Was it a serious argument?” I ask unsure why that is information I feel I need to know.

“The woman said it couldn’t have been because she can’t even remember what it was about. They didn’t know each other. The walk was supposed to be a get to know each other sort of thing, but somehow the two ended up arguing, and she left him. My brother can be a little difficult sometimes, but not very confrontational. I can’t imagine what it would have been over.”

“Are you sure he wants to be found?” I ask, looking at the photo as I do so. “I mean, I’ll keep a look out for him, but I don’t want to turn in someone who wants to be lost.”

“My brother is a very family-oriented person. He wouldn’t leave his family for anything.”

“Family? Does he have a wife and kids?” I knew it was a stupid question because Devan had just told me that his brother had met with someone he had met at a bar, but men did shit like that to their wives all of the time. The idea of him having a family made me feel kind of odd, jealous even. For some reason, I want him to be single. I stare down at his picture. Something about him seems familiar.

“No. As I said, he was meeting a girl. Dimitri is very loyal and not a commitment phobe. If he is with someone, he is with them. That is why I know he would not willingly leave his family. The man moved into a house not a mile down the road from mine. Darius isn’t much farther from us. We are a close family. We take care of each other.”

I could see the love this man had for his brother in the emotion behind the words he spoke. “If I see him, I will let you know. I don’t get out much, though. I know the people on either side of me and the lady that owns the little grocery store down the road, but other than that, I don’t interact with the neighborhood much. Now, rumor has it that Grace Allen, the lady that lives in that brick house right over there knows everything about everyone in a two-mile radius. I don’t know if that is true. I’ve never actually spoken to the woman, but if anyone around here might know something, it will be her.”

I had been looking passed him at Grace’s house as I said this. When I turned back to him, he was looking at me with the oddest sort of sad look. “What’s wrong?” I ask confused by his expression.

“Can I ask why you don’t interact with people more? I mean if it is a personal question, then I understand, but don’t you work, have friends?”

I laugh slightly at his question. “It’s all right. I work, but I work from home. I don’t get out much because…well, I don’t get along with people.” That isn’t completely correct, but I’m not about to explain to this man that people stare at fat, ugly people. They point, laugh, and make jokes. He wouldn’t get it. No one would dare do such a thing to him. My friends have told me that I’m being paranoid, and I probably am. I’m not so overweight that I waddle when I walk or breathe heavy after four or five steps, but that won’t be long now if I keep up this lifestyle. I’m just big enough that I feel disgusting, and if I disgust myself then I have to disgust other people.

“I can’t believe that. I’ve known you all of ten minutes, and we’ve gotten along pretty good.”

“You’re a special case.” I laugh.

“I don’t think so. Anyway, you shouldn’t hide yourself up in this house. Your neighborhood is a beautiful place. You should go out and enjoy it a little. There are people who would love to meet you, I bet.”

I give him an indulging smile in which he seems to be able to read the truth.

“I don’t think so,” I finally say.

“Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of men or…women…” He pauses as if inviting me to state my preference, but I don’t divulge anything. Nodding his head, he smirks at me. “Anyway, I’m sure that there is someone out there who would enjoy your company.”

“No one I’ve met recently,” I say, looking at him pointedly, wanting to ask him if he wants to spend time with me.

“I bet if you opened yourself up a little you’d see that you get more attention than you think you do.” Is he offering?

“I’m plenty aware of how people react to me. I promise.” I look down at the ground suddenly feeling the need to not make eye contact with him.

“Let’s test your theory. Go out with me this afternoon. Take me on a tour of your town, and I’ll show you how much attention you get.”

My head jerks up painfully. I search his face to see if he is being serious. He looks serious, but he can’t possibly be serious.

“Going out with you would be the only reason I would get any attention,” I say, countering his point and ignoring the fact that he might have just asked me on a date.

“You don’t give yourself that much credit, do you?” His eyes grow a little sad.

“I know better. I’m not a stupid person.”

“You aren’t as smart as you think you are,” he says a little flirtatiously.

“Oh, I’m definitely as smart as I think I am.” Shit, am I flirting back? This isn’t good.

“All right, I agree. You are as smart as you are beautiful.” His words are teasing, and I know I’m taking them the wrong way, but I can’t help it.

“And the insults just keep on coming.”

“Damn it, woman, I can’t win for losing with you. Fine, don’t go out with me. I still say you should get out more often.”

A little shocked by the man’s boldness, I say, “That’s easy for you to say. Giving advice on something you’re on the outside of is always easy. I will keep an eye out for your brother. In the meantime, you should go talk to Grace.” Saying this, I take a step back into my house and go to shut the door.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Abby. My name is Abby.”

He stands there for a moment waiting for my last name. When I don’t give it he says, “Thank you, Miss Abby.”

“You’re welcome.” I shut the door before he can say anything else. For reasons I cannot understand, I’m pissed. I’m pissed at myself for being nice to him. Being nice to some people seems to always make them feel as if they have to be nice right back. This means that they say things they don’t mean, things that piss people like me off and give those who are delusional false hope.

I bound down the hall, fling open the bathroom door, and glare at my new cat. I can’t yell at him, despite how much I want to yell. Locking him in the bathroom was punishment enough. I don’t pick him up though. I leave the door open to let him come out whenever he feels like leaving.

I put the flyer on the fridge door, make myself a glass of milk, and crawl into bed where I cry myself to sleep.

“What the…” I nearly yell, jerking up from my pillow. The phone is ringing. Why is my phone ringing? I glance over at the clock to see that I slept for nearly an hour.

“Hello,” I answer, not looking at the ID.

“Abby, you all right?” my loving, overprotective best friend since childhood who now lives three hours away asks.

“Yeah, Crystal, I’m fine. I was napping.”

“What’s wrong?” She knows me too well. I only nap when I’m upset.

“Nothing. Just having a pity party. Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

“Did someone say or do something to you?” I want to hug her for the overprotective tone.

“No, an extremely good-looking guy was nice to me.”

“I see. Did he ask you out?”

“Kind of. I’m not sure. He might have, or he was just being overly nice to the fat girl to prove that he isn’t a chauvinistic pig. Either way, you know me; I took it all wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I was nice to him, but I’ve been down on myself ever since, especially since he told me there was nothing wrong with me. Like he knew I was being all insecure.”

“That was sweet. Are you sure he wasn’t interested?” she asks in a way that suggests that she would lay money on the fact that he was, and I ignore her.

“You know he wasn’t. He was only nice because he wanted something from me.”

“What did he want? Did you give it to him?” I do laugh this time at the eagerness in her voice.

“He didn’t want that.”

My new cat nudges my hand, and I pet him. “Feeling bad for your bad behavior, are you,” I mouth down at him. He nudges my hand again and meows. I give him a hard scratch for the meow. He almost never makes a noise.

“No, his brother is missing,” I tell Crystal. “A witness said she saw him heading into my neighborhood. Devan wanted to know if I had seen him. We talked for a few minutes, then he left. He was fine. I’m so ashamed. I answered the door in sweats and everything.”

“Were you braless?” I can picture her raising her eyebrows suggestively as she asks this.

“God, is that all you think about? And no, I had on a bra.”

“Yes, and damn.” She said the “damn” as if she was disappointed that I had had on a bra.

“Why?”

“Have you seen your tits? They’re about beautiful.”

“Gay much?” I tease.

“Shut up. They are your best asset aside from your eyes. And we all know men don’t look there.”

“Yeah, well, my breasts might be big, but the bigger I get, the saggier they get.”

“I bet your nipples still stick straight out when they are hard, and that’s all men care about, isn’t it?”

“You are incorrigible. And I wouldn’t know. My nipples haven’t been hard for a man in a long time. And I don’t pay attention to them when they are hard for other reasons.”

“All the more reason to invite him in the next time he comes by your house.”

“I doubt he will be back.”

“I don’t know about that. Did he have money?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“People with money can afford to be persistent. How old is his brother? I didn’t hear an amber alert on him.”

“You wouldn’t have. He’s thirty-two.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Hold on, and I’ll read you the flyer.” I get out of bed, my nameless cat following behind me.

“His name is Dimitri Sullivan,” I read to Crystal as I walk over to my desk and take a seat.

My new friend continues to follow me, which is strange. He never gives me this much attention. He meows again and head-butts the flyer. I move it out of his way, and he swipes at it, snagging it with a claw. “Stop it,” I tell him and continue reading the information to Crystal. “He is thirty-two years old. Six foot one. Weighs roughly two hundred pounds. Last seen on foot in the area of Smallbrooks. His brothers’ names are here along with a number to call if someone finds him. Devan was the one to come to my door. He said that he, his brother, and some friends were going door to door asking if anyone has seen him.”

When I lay the piece of paper back down, the cat sits down on the picture right over the man’s face and puts a paw over the name. I give him a quizzical look before going back to my conversation. He is a very odd cat indeed.

“He must be important to his family. Did they call the police?” Crystal asks.

“Yeah, but there isn’t much to go on or to do. There is no evidence of foul play. The evidence suggests that he simply walked away from his life, and I’m betting that is what he has done. I feel kind of bad though. His poor brother is torn up about it.”

“That Dimitri guy sounds like an ass. I mean who just up and leaves his family like that.”

“We don’t know the entire situation. Damn it, cat, stop.” In a need for attention, my new cat has started pawing at the paper. When I pull the flyer out from under him, I notice the gashes he has made have removed the man’s name. I give the cat another questioning look, and he stares intently at me as if he is trying to tell me something. I look down at the paper, then back at him, but before I can ask him anything, Crystal asks me a question.

“Huh?” I ask unsure of what she has said and throw the paper back onto my desk.

“I asked what’s going on.”

“Oh, nothing. My new addition has been acting strange all day. For a month now all he has done is mope around here, then all of sudden today he follows me to the front door when Devan knocks, showing an actual interest in something. When I open the door, he leaps on Devan, attaching himself firmly to the man’s shirt. He doesn’t try to climb up him or even try to escape the house. He just latches on to the man as if he is drowning, and Devan is his lifeline. And now, he keeps pawing at the flyer. He tore a hole right through the flyer and is now sitting on it, again.”

“You really know how to pick them.”

“That’s the understatement of the year. Listen sweetie, I need to get off here and work a little. I have deadlines to meet. Did you need anything in particular?”