Rudkowski had figured the missing person case was a hoax used by Easton to light a fire under the deputy in Florida. “You reach Easton?”
“He’s on vacation.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s on—?”
“I heard you,” he barked. “Since when?”
“He cleared out midday last Friday.”
“For how long?”
“Two weeks.”
“Where did he go?”
“He didn’t say. Nobody knows.”
Chapter 7
Knock-knock?”
Talia came from the kitchen onto the enclosed porch, a dishtowel slung over one shoulder. She smiled at Drex, who stood on the step on the other side of the screen door. “Hi. You’re early.”
He looked at his watch. “I thought I was ten minutes late. Wasn’t the invitation for six?”
“Six-thirty.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’ll come back.”
“Don’t be silly. Come on in.” She went over and pushed the door open for him. “Jasper had to make a quick run to the store. I forgot to get buns.”
Drex knew Jasper wasn’t in the house, which is why he had arrived early. He’d already been showered and dressed when he saw Jasper backing his car out of their driveway. He’d pushed his bare feet into his docksiders, forewent grooming his hair, picked up the box of cupcakes he’d bought earlier at the b
akery, dashed down the perilous stairs, and crossed the lawn in a gait that wasn’t quite a jog, but close.
As he stepped inside, he handed Talia the bakery box.
“What’s this?”
“I told Jasper I’d bring dessert.”
Jasper had come over in the early afternoon to extend the invitation. Drex had seen him coming, and, by the time Jasper had climbed the stairs, Drex appeared to be an absentminded writer, unaware of everything except his manuscript. He pretended to emerge from a creative fog and had accepted the invitation, but only on the condition that he provide the sweets.
Talia raised the box’s lid. “Cupcakes! Great! Dibs on one of the chocolate ones.”
“I’ll flip you for the second one.”
She smiled at him, her eyes shifting up to his hair. He scrubbed his knuckles across the crown of his head and gave an abashed grin. “Is it a mess? Sorry. Hazards of my trade.”
“Mussed hair and what else?”
“Forgetting my hair is mussed.”
She scrutinized him for a moment as though unsure what to make of him, then nodded toward the bar. “Help yourself. I’ll take these into the kitchen.”
“What can I mix for you?”