Missing You(98)

Not very.

Dana jumped to the side and rolled behind a rock. He wasn’t far away now. She could hear him pushing through the brush. She had no choice now. She couldn’t keep running.

She would have to stand her ground and fight.





Chapter 37


Why did you leave me?”

Jeff winced as though the five words had formed a cocked fist. For some reason, Kat reached across the table and took his hand in hers. He welcomed it. There was no jolt when they touched, no huge spark or grandiose physical current. There was comfort. There was, oddly enough, familiarity. There was the feeling that despite everything, despite the years and heartache and lives lived, that this was somehow right.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I don’t want an apology.”

“I know.”

He threaded his fingers in hers. They sat there, holding hands. Kat didn’t press it. She let it happen. She didn’t fight it. She embraced the connection with this man who had shattered her heart, when she knew she should have pushed it away.

“It was a long time ago,” Jeff said.

“Eighteen years.”

“Right.”

Kat tilted her head. “It seem that long ago to you?”

“No,” he said.

They sat there some more. The skies had cleared. The sun shone down upon them. Kat almost asked if he remembered their weekend in Amagansett, but what was the point? This was dumb, sitting with this man who gave her a ring and then a pink slip, and yet for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel the fool about him. She could be projecting. She could be deluding herself. She knew the dangers of trusting instinct over evidence.

But she felt loved.

“You’re in hiding,” she said.

He didn’t reply.

“Are you in the Witness Protection Program or something?”

“No.”

“So what, then?”

“I needed a change, Kat.”

“You got into a bar fight in Cincinnati,” she said.

A small smile came to his face. “You know about that, huh?”

“I do. It happened not long after we broke up.”

“The beginning of my self-destructive period.”

“And sometime after the fight, you changed your name.”

Jeff stared down, as though noticing for the first time that they were holding hands. “Why does this feel so natural?” he asked.

“What happened, Jeff?”

“Like I said, I needed a change.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” She felt herself start welling up. “So I, what, just get up and leave now? I drive back to New York City and we forget all this and never see each other again?”

He kept his eyes on her hands. “I love you, Kat.”

“I love you too.”

Foolish. Dumb. Crazy. Honest.

When he looked up at her, when their eyes met, Kat felt her world crash down on her once again.

“But we don’t get to go back,” he said. “It doesn’t work that way.”

Her cell phone buzzed yet again. Kat had been ignoring it, but now Jeff gently pulled his hand away from hers. The spell, if that was what you’d call it, broke. Coldness spread up her abandoned hand and up her arm.

She checked the caller ID. It was Chaz. She stepped away from the picnic table and brought the phone to her ear. She cleared her throat and said, “Hello?”

“Martha Paquet just sent her sister an e-mail.”

“What?”

“She said all is okay. She and her boyfriend ended up at another inn and they’re having a great time.”

“I’m with her supposed boyfriend right now. It’s all a catfish.”

“What?”

She explained about the use of the faux Ron Kochman. She left out the part about Ron being Jeff and her connection to him. It wasn’t so much embarrassment anymore as much as not wanting to muddy the water.

“So what the hell is going on, Kat?” Chaz asked.

“Something really, really bad. Have you spoken to the feds yet?”

“I did, but I mean, they just sort of go silent on me. Maybe this catfish thing will help move things along, but right now, there is almost no proof of a crime. People do this all the time.”

“Do what all the time?”

“Have you watched the Catfish TV show? People set up fake accounts on these websites all the time. They use photos from someone who is hotter-looking. To break the ice. Pisses me off, you know? Chicks are always talking about how all they care about is personality, but then, bam, they fall for the cutie too. That might be all this is, Kat.”

Kat frowned. “And what, Chaz—this ugly guy or girl ends up getting them to transfer hundreds of thousands of dollars to Swiss bank accounts?”

“Martha’s money hasn’t been touched.”

“Not yet anyway. Chaz, listen to me. I need you to look for any missing adults over the last few months. Maybe they were reported, maybe they just claimed to run off with a lover. There wouldn’t be major attention because there would be texts or e-mails or whatever, just like with these three. But cross-reference any kind of concern with singles websites.”

“You think there are more victims?”