The Match (Wilde, #2)(33)

“Check the ‘sent’ tab,” Wilde said, though that wasn’t the real reason he’d had her sign in to her brother’s email. This was just a diversion now—Wilde had already gotten what he wanted from Vicky Chiba. “See if he sent anything.”

She clicked per his request. “Nothing new or relevant.”

“Do we know if he spoke or communicated with anyone after he left?”

“I checked his phone. He didn’t use it.”

“How about your siblings?”

She shook her head. “Kelly lives down in Florida with her husband and three kids. She said she hasn’t spoken to Peter in months. And Silas, well, they were the two babies, but Silas was always jealous of Peter. You know how it is. Peter was better looking, more popular, the better athlete. Anyway, I think the last time Peter and Silas talked was when we all appeared on the show.”

“You were all on Love Is a Battlefield?”

Vicky nodded. “There’s an episode toward the end called ‘Homefront.’ The finalists introduce Jenn to their families, so it was just Peter and Big Bobbo.”

“Big Bobbo?”

“That was the other finalist. Bob Jenkins. He called himself Big Bobbo. Anyway, the producers want your entire family there and they want drama. We were supposed to be skeptical and interrogate Jenn, you know, make a commotion. The producers wanted all three siblings there. Silas didn’t like it.”

“But he still went?”

“Yes. The money was good, and they gave us a free stay at this cool resort in Utah, so he figured, Why not? But once he was there, Silas just sulked. I don’t think he said two words. He became a pretty popular meme.”

“A meme?”

“I think that’s what they call it. People would post pictures of Silas and call him Silent Silas or Sulking Silas, and then they’d add some comment about being grumpy, like ‘Me before coffee.’ Silas was upset about it. He wanted to sue the show.”

“Where is Silas now?”

“I’m not sure. He drives a truck so he’s on the road most of the year. I can give you his mobile number?”

“That would be great.”

“I don’t think Silas will be much help though.”

“How about Jenn?”

“What about her?”

“Was Peter still in touch with her?”

Vicky shook her head. “Not toward the end, no.”

“Do you and Jenn talk much?”

“We used to. I mean, before all this, we were all very close. She was devastated by the betrayal.”

“So you believe Peter did it?”

Vicky hesitated. “He said he didn’t.”

Wilde waited.

“Does it matter anymore?”

“I’m not judging,” Wilde said. “I just…”

“You just what?” Vicky said, and there was a little edge in her tone now. “This doesn’t concern you. I told you I’d work on the family tree for you. That’s why you’re here, right? To find out why you were abandoned in the woods?”

It suddenly dawned on Wilde that for the second time in his conscious life—the first time was just a few months ago with his father—Wilde was conversing with a blood relative. He expected that it would mean nothing to him. He had spent his life convinced that the answers would provide no meaningful closure or change in his life, especially after his encounter with a father who clearly wanted nothing to do with him, and yet now, as he faced someone who shared his blood, there was an undeniable pull.

“Vicky?”

“What?”

“You talk about chakra and feelings and all that.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. But something about this whole thing isn’t adding up.”

“I still don’t see how that concerns you.”

“Maybe it doesn’t. But I’m going to dig into this, with your blessing or not. At best, you’ll get some answers. At worst, I’ve wasted some of your time.”

“You’re not wasting my time,” Vicky Chiba said. Then she added, “You’re our cousin. And you have my blessing.”





Chapter

Twelve



Rola said, “Peter Bennett is most likely dead.”

“I know.”

“I don’t get why you’re looking for him.”

Rola Naser, Wilde’s foster sister, and her family lived in a classic 1970s split-level with a bloated addition on the back. A muddled mishmash of children’s play equipment—bicycles, tricycles, pogo sticks, bright orange plastic baseball bats, a lacrosse goal, dolls, trucks—was scattered across the front yard as though someone had strewn them from a great height.

They sat at the kitchen table. One of Rola’s kids was on Wilde’s knee. Another was eating a jelly donut, wearing a lot of it on her face. The two oldest were in the corner working on a TikTok dance, which involved repeatedly playing a song that asked the musical question, “Why you so obsessed with me?”

Wilde bounced the kid on his knee to prevent him from crying. “You spent years pushing me to find out about my biological family.”

“Truth.”