Missing You(29)

Kat opened her mouth, closed it. She had a million questions, but they’d keep.

“Mom always calls. I know how that sounds. But I mean, always. That’s the thing that got me suspicious. See, all we really have is each other. And she’s, like, terrified of losing someone else. So she reaches out all the time, just, I don’t know, just to make sure I’m still alive.”

He looked off.

Finally, Kat broke the silence. “She’s been lonely, Brandon.”

“I know.”

“And now she’s away with another man. You understand that, right?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Is this guy her first boyfriend since . . . ?”

“Not really, no,” he said. “But, I mean, it’s the first time she’s gone away with someone.”

“Maybe that’s it, then,” Kat said.

“What’s it?”

“Maybe she’s afraid of how you’ll react.”

Brandon shook his head. “She knows I want her to find somebody.”

“Do you? You just said all you have is each other. Maybe that was true. But maybe that’s changing now. Just imagine how hard this is for her. Maybe she needs to pull away a little.”

“That’s not it,” Brandon insisted. “She always calls.”

“I get that. But maybe, well, maybe not right now. Do you think she’s in love?”

“Mom? Probably.” Then: “Yeah, she’s in love with this guy. She wouldn’t go away with a guy she didn’t love.”

“Love makes us all forgetful, Brandon. It makes us all a little self-involved.”

“That’s not it either. Look, this guy? He’s a total player. She doesn’t get that.”

“A player?” Kat smiled at him, maybe understanding a little. He was being protective. It was sweet, in its own way. “Then maybe your mom will end up with a broken heart. So what? She’s not a child.”

Brandon shook his head some more. “You don’t understand.”

“What happened when you went to the cops in Greenwich?”

“What do you think? They said the same thing you did.”

“So why did you come to me? That’s the part I still don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d get it.”

“But why me? I mean, how do you even know me? And how do you know people call me Kat?” She tried to catch his eye. “Brandon?” He wouldn’t let her. “Why do you think I can help you?”

He didn’t reply.

“Brandon?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Of course I don’t.”

He said nothing.

“Brandon? What the hell is going on?”

“They met online,” Brandon said.

“What?”

“My mom and her boyfriend.”

“Lot of people meet online.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” Brandon stopped. Then he muttered, “Perky and cute.”

Kat’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

She flashed to her YouAreJustMyType profile. The heading Stacy had chosen for her: Cute and perky!

“Are you . . .” She felt a sudden chill. “Wait, are you stalking me online or something?”

“What?” Brandon sat up straight. “No! Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

He reached into his pocket. “This is the guy my mom went away with. I got it off the website.”

Brandon handed her the photograph. When Kat saw the face, her heart yet again plummeted down a mine shaft.

It was Jeff.





Chapter 13


When Titus first started out, this was how he found the girls: He wore a suit and tie. Let his competition wear sweats or low-slung jeans. He carried a briefcase. He wore horn-rimmed glasses. He kept his hair short and neat.

Titus always sat on the same bench in the Port Authority bus station, second floor. If some homeless guy was sleeping there, he gave it up pretty fast when he saw Titus coming. Titus didn’t have to say anything. The locals just knew to stay clear. This was Titus’s bench. It gave him a perfect bird’s-eye view of the south terminal gates 226 through 234 on the level below him. He could see the passengers get off the bus, but they couldn’t see him.

He was, he knew, a predator.

He watched the girls depart, like a lion waiting for the limping gazelle.

Patience was key.

Titus didn’t want the girls from the bigger cities. He waited for the buses from Tulsa or Topeka or maybe Des Moines. Boston was no good. Neither was Kansas City or St. Louis. The best were the runaways from the so-called Bible Belt. They came in with a mixture of hope and rebellion in their eyes. The more rebellion—the more you wanted to stick it to Daddy—the better. This was the big city. This was where dreams were made.

The girls came in demanding change and excitement—something had to happen for them. But in truth, they were already hungry and scared and exhausted. They lugged a too-heavy suitcase, and if they had a guitar that made it better. Titus didn’t know why. But if he found one with a guitar, it always upped his chances.