Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(9)

I wandered back to the living room.

“Your podcast is about UFOs?”

“Sometimes. But our show wasn’t about UFOs.”

He made air quotes when he said “about” and seemed irritated.

“We explored subjects the mainstream media suppresses. Government programs, corporate conspiracies, whatever. And, yeah, UFOs. We did crashed and captured vehicles, reverse-engineering alien tech, the Roswell Grays—”

My head was beginning to hurt.

“The Roswell Grays?”

“The aliens recovered at Roswell. Big heads, big eyes, gray skin. The Grays.”

He showed me how big by raising his hands above the sides of his head.

I changed the subject.

“Josh told Adele he was on a new story.”

Ryan shook his head before I finished.

“This is bullshit. He took his laptop. He took his toothbrush, and he didn’t even tell me he was going. Asshole.”

He sounded hurt.

“He probably told someone, Ryan.”

I asked the same questions I’d asked Adele.

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Ryan snorted.

“Please.”

“A boyfriend?”

“He’s straight.”

“Other friends? Traci Tanner? Davis Kleimann?”

Ryan glanced up, sneering.

“Kleimann’s a dick. Traci’s okay, but she hasn’t been around for years. Who gave you their names? Adele?”

“If not them, who else?”

“Besides me?”

“Yeah. Anyone.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed, but he came up empty.

“Not really.”

“Okay, if friends are out, can you get us into his email?”

Ryan blinked.

“His personal email?”

“Yes. Can you access his account?”

“We have a show account, but I can’t get into his personal. I don’t know his password.”

“Then check the show account. Do it tonight and let me know. Where does he keep his financial records?”

Ryan stared as if I’d spoken Urdu.

He said, “What?”

“Receipts for payments. Bank statements. Adele gives him cash, so he probably deposits the cash into a checking account. Where does he keep his bills?”

“How would I know?”

If Josh deposited the cash into a checking account, most of his banking was likely done online, but we still had to check.

“Okay. We’ll start in this room, and take it room by room.”

“Start what?”

“Detecting. Digging through these boxes and going through his things. You asked how we find him. We snoop.”

Ryan didn’t complain. We divided the boxes and quickly went through them. Many were taped and hadn’t been opened in years. Most contained clothes or books, and one held Josh’s high school yearbooks. He looked glum in his ninth-grade photo. Ryan’s picture was on the same page. Ryan’s chin was fierce with zits, but his eyes were happy. When we’d gone through most of the boxes, I stood.

“I’ll check the kitchen. You finish the boxes, okay?”

“It’s just clothes and stuff.”

“It’s clothes and stuff until it’s something else. Keep looking.”

I moved into the kitchen and went to work. No notes were taped to the fridge saying Gone to Tahoe. The drawers and cupboards contained nothing helpful. All I found were takeout cups and crumpled soda cans spilling from a plastic bin and a mountain of bloated garbage bags piled against the kitchen door.

I moved to the dining table. The table sat in the corner beneath the casement window. The mauve bungalow sat directly across the zigzag concrete courtyard. It had a maroon door with what looked like vines across its face, and a curtained casement window beside the door. When I looked, the curtains swayed, as if someone had closed the curtains when they saw me.

I said, “Ryan?”

Ryan looked up from a box.

“Huh?”

“Who lives in the mauve?”

Ryan came up beside me and studied the mauve.

“Some old dude. He’s a jerk.”

I turned from the window and faced him.

“Does Josh use drugs?”

Ryan frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not talking about weed. Does Josh use illegal drugs?”

He squinted and shrugged and looked uncomfortable.

“Maybe some weed every once in a while, but nothing illegal.”

I thought about Josh rebranding their show. I thought about Ryan’s enthusiasm when he told me about the Grays. “Did you and Josh argue about changing the show?”

Ryan stepped back.

“Not like you mean. Yeah, there’s give and take, but the show is our baby. We were having a blast.”

“Were you? Best friends and partners, having a blast, and Josh left without telling you. He must’ve had a reason.”

Ryan Seborg blinked and wet his lips. He glanced away, and glanced back. I could see wheels spinning in his head without gaining traction.

I said, “You’re the person he would have told, Ryan. I agree. But he didn’t. So maybe he thought you wouldn’t approve or you wouldn’t want to be involved. Why wouldn’t he tell you?”