Hot Flash by Carrie H. Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

to do my job.”
    â€œGo home, M. Be with your new boyfriend. What’s his name, Calvin? Make it work for a change. Take a trip for the weekend. Go.”
    I shot back, “You’re too close to this one, Laughton.”
    He turned away, then came back and got up close. “I don’t need you on this one. I don’t want you on this one.” He stepped away and turned his back to me, then turned back and got up close again. “I want to . . . Just trust me on this one.”
    The hotbed inside me exploded. Sweat dripped off my nose. I opened my mouth to speak as the door closed. A few seconds of stunned disbelief squeezed me before I regained my senses and followed him out. By then I saw him race up the stairs two at a time and then he was gone. Parker was gone, too. There were three other members of the division. All gone. I checked my watch. No wonder, since it was 8 p.m.
    My cell phone buzzed. “Muriel Mabley.”
    â€œMuriel. John.”
    â€œJohn?” In ten years of marriage to Nareece, John had never called me before.
    â€œNareece is gone.”
    I returned to my cubicle, as John went on, agitated.
    â€œShe supposedly went out to do errands earlier, much earlier today, and she hasn’t returned home yet. I’ve tried her cell, but she’s not answering. The girls keep asking, ‘Where’s Mommy?’ and I don’t know what to say anymore. I’m about to call the police.”
    â€œJohn, calm down. I’m sure she’s fine. Hold off on the police. Let me make some calls, and I’ll get back to you. Stay at the house in case she comes back.” This was not Reece’s first disappearance episode.
    â€œMuriel, she’s getting worse. I keep telling her she needs to see a therapist. All right, another therapist, cuz truly the one she’s jawing to isn’t doing a damn thing to help her. She won’t talk to me. I don’t even know what’s wrong with her, why she acts the way she does.”
    â€œI’m coming this weekend. We’ll talk about getting her more help when I’m there. Let’s just find her first. I’ll get back to you.”
    After I hung up from John, I moved to Laughton’s desk. My locked-drawer curiosity ratcheted up to near-execution before I abandoned the idea and punched Reece’s number into my cell phone. It took five rings before she answered.
    â€œReece, you alright? John is worried sick.”
    â€œI want to open it, M. I want to but I can’t.”
    â€œWhere are you?” Silence. “Reece, answer me.” More silence.
    â€œRemember when you said everything would go away? That one day it’d be so far away that it would seem like a dream? I was almost there.”
    â€œYou are almost there, Reecey.”
    â€œIt was almost just a bad dream.”
    â€œNothing can bring that night back. It’s so far behind us, baby girl.”
    â€œIf they’d only been caught, put in jail. But they’re still out there.”
    Silence.
    â€œLook, I’m coming in two days. I’ll be there on Saturday. I promise. We’ll open the letter together and you’ll see that there’s nothing to worry about. Please just go home. I’ll call John, tell him you’re safe and on your way.”
    I could hear her sniffling and sucking back tears.
    â€œTravis. Are you bringing Travis with you?” Her tone switched up as though nothing was wrong, as if there was no envelope or note and everything was right with the world.
    I struggled to contain my irritation. “No, he’s only home for spring break, and you know college kids. He’s going to New York for the weekend. Now, go home. Please.”
    Travis had not visited Boston since he was ten. I always feigned a sleepover or sporting event, some reason for his absence. Nareece had made him hate going there. She had acted like he was the devil child from The Omen the few times we visited