Just thinking about it now makes me feel ill. Coupled with the wicked hangover I’m nursing, it’s guaranteed that I’m going to puke.
I fucking hate puking.
Stumbling out the door and across the small clearing to the treeline, I lean against the nearest tree and throw up whatever alcohol remains in my stomach.
I never got around to feeding myself before I started drinking. That was my second error yesterday. I know better...well before yesterday I would have said I did, anyway.
When there is nothing left to come up, I make my way back inside and perch on the edge of the bunk, head hanging down in misery. I could use some water and food. And a pain reliever. Toast sounds good, but I didn’t bring anything except a couple cans of soup and some MREs, neither of which sound appetizing at the moment.
Sighing, I dig into my pack and pull out a ready-to-eat meal, knowing that sometimes there are crackers in them. I’m in luck this time, and open the foil package and grab a water bottle while powering on my phone.
I need to check in with Blake, my business partner and best friend. We have a couple of lucrative investigations in the works, and we had been planning to meet this morning. At least until I got this wild idea to go camping and rid myself of the depression weighing me down.
It didn’t work. It’s not going away, and I know that until I find Faye I’m going to have to live under this dark cloud. Just one more reason to find my girl and bring her home where she belongs.
After making some shitty instant coffee and downing a bottle of water, along with a couple of pain relievers, I open my messages. There is a single text from Blake with a grainy photo. “CALL ME,” it says.
Blake isn’t usually cryptic, so my interest is piqued.
I can’t make out much of the image. It’s grainy and taken from across what looks like a restaurant, then cropped to make the subject bigger. It’s a woman. She looks young but the distance and poor quality of the photo make it difficult to make out any of her features. She is dressed in what looks like a grey or light blue uniform. She is probably either a housekeeper or a waitress. Her hair is muddy brown and pulled back from her thin, pale face in a long ponytail.
There is something about her that I can’t quite put my finger on, but she seems familiar to me. Very familiar. My heart starts racing and my hands shake in a way that has nothing to do with my hangover as I dial Blake’s number and walk out the door toward my truck.
He doesn’t answer.
Fuck time off! It’s not helping anyway. I’m heading back to Spokane to see what Blake felt was so important about this woman.
The real question is: why does she look so damn familiar?
I make the trip back to the city in record time by ignoring the speed limits and driving like a crazy person. I park in my designated spot behind the office when Blake finally calls back.
“Hey man, you at the office yet?” he asks.
I can hear the sounds of quiet traffic, but no road noise, so it’s safe to assume he is parked somewhere.
“Yeah. What's up? Who's the woman?” I ask him, my heart thudding rapidly in my chest. My eyes see it, but I’m afraid to believe it’s possible after all this time.
“No one you know?” he asks, surprise evident in his voice.
“Looks sorta familiar, but the picture isn't great.” I suck in a deep breath waiting. Hoping that he will tell me what I want to hear.
He hums a bit, agreeing with what I said. “Maybe I shouldn't have followed her home last night,” he finally says.
Following someone without good cause is unlike Blake. He likes to do things the right way, no exceptions. “The fuck did you do that for?”
“Trav, just go run the picture through facial recognition and see what pops up. I have a feeling I need to keep my eyes on this one. You can thank me later.” There is a trace of humor in his voice, but I can tell that he is serious. My racing pulse and choppy breaths tell me that I’m right. There is no reason for me to doubt what I already know, but I don’t want to build up the hope that I’ve finally found her only to be disappointed.
I trust Blake—the kind of trust that comes from seven years of service and seeing more shit together than either of us even care to think about. We both know it’s her. He’s just leaving me to “discover” it. So that’s what I’m going to do.
“Okay then. I will call you back in a bit.” I hang up without another word and head inside, straight to my computer. My foot tapping restlessly, patience stretched razor thin as I wait for it to boot up. It’s never taken so long before.
“Thought you weren’t coming in for a couple days, boss,” Becca calls from her desk. I was so deep in my head when I stomped through the office that I didn’t notice her at her desk.
“Blake thinks he found her.” I tell her as I send the photo to my email and load it into the facial recognition program we use, now that my computer has woken up. I barely hear her squeal of excitement as I follow the progress of the search.
It comes up with match in minutes. My heart stops for a moment, and I can feel the blood rush from my face. I fall back into my chair as a low buzzing fills my ears.
Becca is saying something as she rushes toward me, knocking her desk chair over, but I can’t hear a word she says. My eyes focus on the screen of my computer in shock. Finally! After all this time...