The Friendship List(26)

Now, he thought maybe he was dealing with some serious payback for not suffering before.

He forced himself to his feet. He might not know what to say to his daughter but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be talking. He headed down the hall and stopped in front of her bedroom door.

“Lissa,” he said as he knocked. “Open up. I want to talk.”

There was no response.

“Lissa?” He waited. Again, nothing. “Lissa, either you open the door or I’m opening it for you.”

He waited thirty seconds, then tried the knob. It was locked. His irritation grew. Did she think she could frustrate him so easily? He went into his bedroom, opened a drawer and pulled out the long, skinny pick that would pop the lock.

Only when he opened her bedroom door, she wasn’t lying on her bed, glaring at him. She wasn’t anywhere. The window was open, the screen on the ground and his daughter was gone.



seven


“You’re distracted,” Freddy said conversationally. “We’re talking about buying a business. You always like that. What’s up?”

A question Thaddeus couldn’t answer. No, scratch that. A question he didn’t want to answer.

They were in his office on the twentieth floor, with a north-facing view. He could see much of Bellevue and Kirkland beyond. To the west was North Seattle and to the northeast, on a clear day, Mount Baker.

Several files lay open on the large conference table. There were reports, sales projections and all the details that usually captured his interest, but today he couldn’t get excited about buying an underfunded software company with potential.

He got up to pour himself more coffee, but instead crossed to the window where he stared out at the horizon.

“I met someone.”

Freddy got up and joined him at the floor-to-ceiling window. “You sound more cautious than excited. Who is she? Where’d you meet?” His friend eyed him. “Not in a bar. You have terrible luck with women in bars.”

Thaddeus raised his eyebrows. “I always have good luck with women in bars.”

“No. You always get laid, but it never goes anywhere. There’s a difference.”

Freddy had a point. “I didn’t meet her in a bar. She’s a friend of Dagmar’s.” At Freddy’s expression of surprise, he added, “She’s thirty-four.”

“Thank God. Because if you start dating some woman in her seventies, I’m going to take you to the doctor. So, who is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s a widow. Her husband was in the military. I assume he was killed in the line of duty.”

He could ask his aunt for details, but that would be giving Dagmar way more power than he wanted her to have.

He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “We were at Dagmar’s. We were supposed to have dinner.”

“It was a setup?”

He nodded. “She didn’t tell me until I got there. I ended up not staying long. Our meeting didn’t go well.”

Freddy shook his head. “So why are we talking about her?”

“Because there was something about her.” At least he believed there had been. He’d thought about her the whole drive home and for the next couple of days. He was still thinking about her. There’d been chemistry and Dagmar liked her, which was about the best reference possible.

“She was nervous,” he said. “More than nervous. She was scared.”

“Of you?”

“Some. Or maybe it was the situation.”

“She sounds like a real catch,” Freddy muttered sarcastically. “Don’t you want someone who likes you?”

“Everyone likes me.”

“Not this girl. Man, what is it with you? Why do you always go looking for trouble?”

“I have no idea.”

“Are you going to call her?”

“Haven’t got a clue.”

“You want to buy this business?”

“Not today.”

Freddy walked back to the conference table, muttering in both English and Spanish that he didn’t know why he’d ever come to work for Thaddeus in the first place and that he needed to find somewhere else to work where the people weren’t so crazy.

As he opened the conference room door to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. “Is she the one?”

“There is no one.”

“You don’t believe that. You want there to be a one. Maybe the problem is you’re looking for something that doesn’t exist. Whatever it is, you gotta get this girl out of your head. She’s not doing you any good in there.”

Thaddeus smiled. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Keith called Lissa’s phone, but she didn’t pick up. Nor did she answer his texts telling her to get home now. When she finally walked into the house, three hours later, her gait was unsteady and her eyes were glazed. He stared at her in disbelief.

“Are you drunk?” he demanded. “You’re seventeen. You know better than to drink. Where have you been? Did you drive? Tell me you didn’t drive.”

She waved toward the front of the house. “No car, Dad. I didn’t drive.”

At least she’d had that much sense, he thought grimly. “What has gotten into you?”