And where was he? He seemed to have disappeared without a trace, but that was impossible. People didn’t just vanish. When they did, surely they didn’t leave behind only a mangled luxury vehicle.
I sucked in shallow breaths one after the other. It did nothing to relieve the panic or bring clarity back to my mind. My thoughts were swimming, bleeding into one. Where could he have gone?
Nowhere without his car, the thought hit out of nowhere. But it was right here. Jeremiah loved this car. There was a lot of damage to its body, but the radio was still playing. Did that mean it could still drive?
I didn’t know. What I did know was if he got into an accident, he would’ve been here waiting by the car for a tow. Or he would’ve called me to call one for him.
It felt like a sharpened dagger speared into my heart when I realized he might not be waiting by the car because he was hurt. Feeling nauseous and fighting off a wave of blackness that threatened to send me crumbling to the sidewalk, I poked my head back in his car.
I couldn’t see anything that looked like blood. Surely there would’ve been blood if he was hurt enough to take him away from the scene of an accident.
I tried thinking back over the last hour or so. My bedroom window was just off this street. I usually heard ambulances at all hours, but I hadn’t heard one this morning. You wouldn’t have, over your silly music.
I choked back a sob. If I hadn’t been dancing and singing along, would I have heard this happen? Would I have been able to come out and stop… whatever had happened to him?
The rational part of my brain whispered no, but the part that was worried sick about Jeremiah said I would’ve at least stood a chance that way.
Gulping down air like someone was about to close the tap on the stuff, I forced myself to calm down enough to think. Police.
I had to call the cops. The thought brought me back to the conversation Jeremiah and I had just yesterday morning, same time, same place, same car. He was going to go to the police to report Jannie after we got the pictures. He was going to tell them she was stalking me.
No, wait. The realization dawned slowly, the ringing in my ears dying down. Us. Not me. He was going to report her for stalking us.
I turned back to his car and fumbled blindly in my purse for my phone. Jannie. That was the only answer I could think of for this. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know why, but she had to be responsible for this.
My fingers finally closed around my phone, and I pulled it out of my bag. Looking down at it, I was about to punch in 911 when it occurred to me I had no proof of Jannie’s involvement. We hadn’t gone to the police to report her after getting the pictures yesterday, so they had no record of her harassment.
Only one other person had heard from Jeremiah himself that Jannie was stalking the both of us. And it was the last person in the world I ever wanted to have to call. Especially so soon after the argument in Jeremiah’s office yesterday.
My finger hovered over his office number. A number I only programmed into my phone because Jeremiah thought I might need to have it. In case I ever needed to call him. For work, of course.
This wasn’t work, but did I have to call him?
His name stared up at me from my screen. Jance Williams. Make the call Steph, his life could depend on it.
Decision made, I dragged in a deep breath and held it. Then I punched down on his name and waited for one of the richest, most powerful men in the city to answer his phone. So I could tell him his son had gone missing. Right in front of my apartment.
Scratch everything from this morning. This was not going to be a good day.