Wonderland (15 page)

A
s soon as I was inside, I knew he wasn't home. The coffee table was flipped over, cushions were everywhere. There was a bowl, normally on an end table, smashed on the floor.

I fed his fish as I walked by into the kitchen, berating myself for not having thought of it sooner. In the kitchen, cupboards and drawers were open, clutter was everywhere. The picture of us he kept on the fridge was ripped in half.

I went into his bedroom next. The bed, which I remembered making, was torn apart, blankets and pillows everywhere, the mattress sliced down the center. On the walls, all the pictures of us that hung there were smashed, none of them off its hook but the glass shattered in every frame.

I called Jesse. “His place has been ransacked.”

“Is the wallet there?”

“Shit, I forgot.” I went out to the living room, searched around the couch, under the couch, but couldn't find it anywhere. “No.”

“Well, is anything missing? Maybe it was a random burglary.”

“No, it was personal. All the pictures of us are destroyed. He was angry, whoever it was.”

“Try Aaron again. It has to be a mistake.”

“Okay.”

“Call me.”

I tried Aaron's cell again, and there was no answer, and his voice mail was full. Absentmindedly, I started putting Steven's living room back together. I sat down on the couch and debated what to do. I needed to be more proactive, I decided. No more sitting around waiting for a phone call.

I called Aaron's hotel, but when I asked at the front desk for his room, they said they had no one there with that name. Of course they didn't. Maybe his work would know how to get ahold of him. It had been almost three years but I still had his office number in my phone. It rang.

“Don't Dream It, Be It Advertising,” a voice finally answered.

“Hello, I was hoping I could speak to Aaron Matthews.”

“Sorry, I don't think we have anyone by that name here.”

What? That was strange too. He'd said at lunch he was still with the same company. “Are you sure? This is the right place.”

“I've been here seven months, and I've never met anyone by that name. Can I transfer you to someone else?”

“No thanks . . . actually, yes, is Charles Kirk still with you?”

“Why, yes, Mr. Kirk is, but he's in a meeting right now. Can I pass on a message?” I gave the receptionist my number, and he promised he'd get the message to Mr. Kirk right away. Charles Kirk was Aaron's boss, or had been anyway, and we'd met several times. He'd remember me. He'd know where Aaron was.

I started cleaning up the shambles of Steven's living room as I waited. Mr. Kirk would call me back, I'd talk to Aaron, and I'd straighten this all out. Jesse was right. It had to be a misunderstanding. Aaron couldn't have done all this. He'd never had an angry thought in his life. I watched the minutes tick by on the clock on the wall, a present to Steven from his grandmother for his twenty-first birthday.

Wait a minute,
I thought, and called Steven's work. I hadn't called in to see if they were wondering where he was or what they knew. Ugly Angie answered the phone, but said Steven had called in Monday morning and taken some personal time. Maybe he'd sounded weird, but she had assumed that was because he was sick. I thanked her and hung up. His kidnapper probably had Steven call in so they wouldn't suspect anything was wrong. It had been a long shot anyway, but why hadn't I done it sooner?

There were so many things I should have done sooner, I realized, more than just checking his work and feeding his fish. I should have made sure he knew how crazy in love I was, and I should have made sure he knew I was ready to settle down, and I should have never done any stupid drugs from the stupid Caterpillar at the stupid bar.

The phone rang. “Hello?”

“Is this Alex? It's Charles Kirk.”

“Oh hello, thank you for calling me back. Do you remember me?”

“Of course I do, but I'm a bit surprised to get your call. Aaron hasn't worked here in nearly a year. Is everything all right?”

A year. Well, that answered that. If Aaron had lied about work, he may have lied about everything. “Everything's fine. I'm just trying to get ahold of Aaron. We fell out of touch and it's urgent I track him down. Do you know where he's working now?”

“Sorry, I don't. When he left us, he just said he was moving to be with you. We were all quite happy that you two had decided to give it another go.”

“We never did . . . and this was a year ago?”

“Near as I can remember. You say you haven't heard from him?”

“Well, not exactly, but thank you for your time, sir.” I hung up. Aaron had quit his job a year ago? With the supposed intention of us getting back together? What was going on in his head and where was he? Did he have Steven? Whoever had him, the next of his “ransom demands” was coming up that night. There was nothing really to do but wait until show time.

I lay my head down on Steven's couch and let myself doze.

 

I woke up, panting, sweating.
The fuck?
I thought. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after six. I had three missed calls, two from Jesse, one from Colton. I tried Aaron's cell first, and it went straight to his full voice mail again. Then I called Jesse back.

“I'm coming over before we head to the club,” I told him.

“Have you heard from him?”

“No. I'll be there in an hour.”

“See you then.”

I yawned and stretched, and looked around one last time for the wallet. Outside, the sky was already getting dark. I decided to shower and change there. Steven's stuff fit me, and I didn't want to go home. I needed to be around people as quickly as possible, people who had gin, and lots of it. I found an outfit, took it into the bathroom with me.

I stripped off, stepped into the hot shower, and furiously scrubbed up. I was just washing my hair when there was a bang on the bathroom door. “Police! Who's in there?”

I
froze
. Oh no. What should I do, or say?
I stuck my head out of the shower and called out. “My name is Alex Lewison. What's wrong, officer?”

“We're looking for Steven Thompson. Do you know him?”

“He's my boyfriend.”

“We're going to need you to come out and talk.”

“I'll be right out.” What were the cops doing here? Moreover, if the person who had Steven—and I still didn't want to believe it was Aaron—saw them here, what would that mean? I frantically rinsed off the shampoo and the suds. When I turned off the water, the silence was heavy.

“Do you live here with Mr. Thompson?” one of the cops called through the door.

“No, I came to visit.”

“Are you almost done in there?”

I looked at the bathroom window as I got dressed and for a second, I debated crawling through it and bolting. I decided against it though. That would be kicking a hornet's nest. The last thing I needed was cops chasing me. I just had to talk them out of the house. I opened the door, and there were two uniformed officers in the living room. Thank God I had cleaned it!

“So do you know where Mr. Thompson is?”

“Not right at the moment, no. Is there a problem, officers?”

“It was reported that he's missing.”

“No, he's not missing.”

“When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Thompson?”

“Just yesterday. Who reported him missing?”

The officer who was talking checked a notepad she carried. “A Mr. Brandon Sweet. Are you familiar with him?”

“Yes, I know him.”

“Do you have any idea why he would have reported Mr. Thompson missing?”

“I have no clue, officer. When did he do this?”

“Sunday. We haven't been able to locate him. He hasn't been to work.”

“He's been sick.”

“Are you expecting him soon?”

“No, but I will be seeing him tonight.”

“And where would that be at?”

“We're going to Wonderland, there's a party.”

They asked for the address of the club, what time we'd be going, took my particulars. “Is there anything else?” I asked. “I really need to be somewhere.”

“Is everything all right, Mr. Lewison?”

“Please, call me Alex, and yes, everything is fine. I just really need to get going.”

“Would you have Mr. Thompson please get in touch with us as soon as you talk to him?”

“Absolutely.” I walked toward the door, hoping they'd get the hint, pulling out my phone.

They looked around as they headed out, and I smiled like nothing was wrong, and hoped that it was believable. I watched as they got into their car and drove slowly away. As soon as the car pulled around the corner, I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Had I done the right thing, lying to them? Was that my opportunity to enlist their help? Would they show up at the club tonight, and would that help or hinder getting Steven back unharmed? Why had Brandon gone to them? That last question was at least one I could get an answer to.

I dialed his number. “What's up, Alex?” he answered.

“Brandon, did you go to the cops about Steven?”

“On the weekend, yeah, when we first found out he was missing. Before you'd told me about the call telling you not to. Why?”

“They just left Steven's.”

“Did you tell them everything that was going on?”

“No, I didn't want to chance it.”

“Oh, well, I hope it doesn't cause problems. I just thought someone should call.”

“Well, no harm yet I guess. Look, is everything good with us?”

“Yeah, shouldn't it be?”

I didn't want to tell him about Allan in the bathroom. If Allan hadn't said anything, hadn't stirred up any more drama, I sure wasn't going to. “Just checking, babe. See you tonight.” I hung up, and started over to Jesse and Colton's.