Gage straightened up on the couch, shifting away from Fiona’s warm, wonderful body. “We should get to work,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he got to his feet. “We can set up a surveillance shift on the Greenwoods. If the dad is involved at all, we might be able to see where he’s going, and if not, it’s possible the kidnapper is still monitoring the families of the victims. He probably watched them for a long time before sneaking in and leaving his insignia in Tori’s bedroom.”
Fiona was silent, not saying anything in response, but after a few seconds, she got to her feet, nodding to herself as she crossed the living room to head back into the bedroom. A minute later, she reappeared, fully dressed in black clothes, prepared for a stake-out. “Let’s go,” she said, tying her red hair back into a tight ponytail before heading towards the front door. Right before her hand hit the doorknob, however, her phone rang. “Just a second,” Fiona muttered apologetically to Gage before reaching into her pocket to grab her phone.
Gage waited, watching as Fiona stared down at her phone screen for several long seconds without moving to answer the call. “Who is it?” he asked.
Fiona continued to stare down at the phone, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’s...Carl, my fiancé,” she murmured.
Gage felt his blood turn cold inside his veins. “Oh,” he replied, at a loss for what else to say. He’d almost forgotten that Carl even existed at all, but now this reminder made him feel like he’d been punched in the gut. It was so easy to fall back into old patterns with Fiona, to pretend that she was here to stay in the city with him forever, but that wasn’t true, was it? She was here on borrowed time, and sooner or later, she was going to go back to her shiny new life, far away from all the dust and grime and dirt, far away from everything that Gage represented, everything that he was.
But for now, at least, Fiona silenced her phone and put it back in her pocket. “Don’t have time for him now,” she muttered by way of explanation. “Come on, let’s go.”
This time, they didn’t use the subway. Instead, they retrieved Gage’s car out of the parking garage where he kept it most of the time. It was a quick ride over to Tori’s neighborhood, an upscale residential area full of young professionals and retirees as well as families with kids. It was like a chunk of the suburbs had been cut and pasted right in the middle of the city, hidden just out of sight.
“We should park on the side of the road, across the street from Tori’s house,” Fiona said, pointing out the right address. Gage followed her instructions, pulling into a spot on the same block as the Greenwoods’ home.
“And now we wait,” Gage said, getting his notepad out of his pocket to keep notes in case Mr. Greenwood appeared anytime soon.
Silence fell in the car, only broken by the sound of Fiona’s anxious foot-tapping in the other seat, getting louder and louder as minutes passed by with no action. Fiona was never really good at the “sit and wait” part of the job. It seemed to drive her crazy, just sitting still and letting things happen, although Gage figured he could probably understand the reasons why. After all those weeks tied up as a teenager…she’d probably had enough immobility and inaction to last her a lifetime. “Hey, do you want to go get a snack or something? Stretch your legs?” Gage suggested a half-hour into their as-yet unsuccessful stake-out.
“No, I’m fine,” Fiona said, clearly lying through her teeth.
“Hey, you can take a break. I’ll keep watch. It’s okay,” Gage said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, but Fiona just glared at him, her eyes virtually shooting daggers his way.
Gage sighed deeply and settled back in his seat, staring blankly ahead at the empty stretch of street in front of the car. He resigned himself to sitting in silence for however many hours it took to spot Mr. Greenwood so they could follow him, but something was gnawing at the back of his mind, scratching like a cat attempting to break into a window. He opened his mouth and the words just spilled out like water falling from a faucet.
“What do you get out of your relationship with that guy? Carl?” he asked, still facing forward towards the quiet street.
“What?” Fiona asked, as if she needed the question to be repeated, but the edge of annoyance in her voice told Gage that she’d heard him perfectly well.
“I mean, I haven’t met the guy, but I’m just wondering. What is it that you get out of being out there, in the middle of nowhere? I want to know,” Gage said softly.