The Worst Best Man(18)

Her phone buzzed from inside her clutch.

“Oh, shit.” She showed the screen to Aiden.

“Answer it. Maybe someone contacted her?”

“Hey, Pru,” Frankie said.

“Where are you, Frankenstein?” It was Pru’s drunken moniker for drunken Frankie.

Frankie eyed Aiden for a moment. He shrugged. “I’m with Aiden,” she said.

“Ohmygod. I knew it!” Pru’s shriek put a couple of pin holes in Frankie’s eardrum. “I knew you two would hit it off. I’m like literally the smartest person ever.”

“The smartest,” Frankie agreed.

“Ask her about Chip,” Aiden whispered.

Frankie held the phone out so Aiden could listen too. “Sorry for bailing on you. Is everyone else still there?” she asked.

“Well, I think so. Margeaux passed out under the picnic table, so we had the driver carry her back to the car. And I haven’t seen Chip for a little while. I think he went to the bathroom a few minutes ago.”

Frankie covered the phone with her hand. “That’s Pru’s drunk clock. She couldn’t tell time right now if there was a Birkin bag on the line,” she explained to Aiden.

“We need them back at the resort with security,” Aiden told her.

Frankie nodded, not wanting to consider the possibility that Chip’s disappearance was just the beginning. “Is anyone there sober?” she asked.

“Oh sure. Lotsa people. There’s this guy over here. He’s got poodles on his shirt. I think he’s sober.”

“No, I mean a person you know.”

“Huh?”

Oh, for the love of god. Why was talking to a drunk adult harder than prying information out of a kindergartener? “Is Cressida there?” Cressida had the tolerance of an Eastern European man, a big one.

“Sure! Watercress! Phone’s for you!” Pru crooned.

“Yes? What is it you want?” Cressida demanded.

“Cressida, it’s Frankie. I need you to keep a close eye on Pru.”

“Why? Will she attempt a crime?”

“No, nothing like that. Just… don’t let anything happen to her.”

“That is annoyingly vague,” Cressida said.

“Yeah, I know. But I can’t help it. Can you get them all back to the resort? Just tell them that’s where the after party is.”

“I will do this. Mainly because my feet hurt, and I would like to swim naked in the lap pool.”

“Uh, okay. Great?”

“Goodbye now.”

Aiden snatched the phone out of Frankie’s hand. “Just a minute, Cressida. Put Pruitt on the phone again.”

They heard wild laughter and some yelling.

“Hellooooooo!” Pruitt sang into the phone.

“Pruitt, it’s Aiden,” he said.

“Aiden! I knew you and Frankie would fall madly in love! I totally knew it! I even told Chip so. Chip? Chip!”

Frankie covered her face with her hands. “She thinks her fiancé is going to come running.”

“Pruitt, do you need Frankie or me for the rest of the night?” Aiden asked.

“Ooooh la la! No!”

Aiden glanced at Frankie. “Good, then I’ll keep her to myself a little longer. Get some sleep tonight,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir! I hope you two don’t get any sleep if you know what I mean,” Pruitt yelled.

The entire bus knew what Pru meant even without the help of speakerphone. “Great. Thanks a lot, Aide. Now she thinks we’re banging on a beach somewhere.” Frankie shoved the phone back in her impractical clutch.

“It’s better than knowing the truth at this point.”

“At this point?” Frankie screeched. “At what point do we call the cops? At what point do we have to sit Pru down and tell her the wedding isn’t happening.”

“Calm down.”

“Oh yeah, because saying that to a person who’s freaking out always helps.”

“Franchesca.” He gripped her chin and made her look at him. “I will fix this. I will find Chip, but I need your help. We’re in a foreign country. Yes, quite possibly the friendliest foreign country in the hemisphere, but it’s still different from the United States. How many drunken tourists do you think stumble off and disappear for a few hours? How many men fight with their wives and jump in a cab to go someplace else?”

“But that’s not what happened,” Frankie argued.

“You and I both know that. But a local cop is going to tell you to sit and wait for him to show up.”

The hell she’d do that.

Half an hour and what felt like sixty-four bus stops later, they were back at Oistins. The crowds were thinner now nearing midnight and even more inebriated than when they’d left before. But the cab line was busy. Frankie suggested they split up to cover more ground, but Aiden wasn’t having it. He stuck by her side like a shadow as she quizzed the first two cab drivers. Had they seen this man? She showed them a picture of Chip taken earlier that day. No, they hadn’t. How about a van driver with a gold tooth? No.

It went like that for an hour. No, no, no. No one had seen anything or anyone. There was, of course, the helpful cab driver who announced that all drunk tourists look the same to him, which drew laughter from his friends. But it didn’t help.