The House Guest by Mark Edwards(36)

‘Sure is. Well, you’re on there, and I’m guessing the blonde you’re flirting with is the girl you’re looking for. You didn’t tell me she was so hot.’ He laughed. ‘No wonder you fell for her femme-fatale charms.’

My God, this guy was a jerk. ‘Just show me. Please. Did you print a screenshot?’

‘I did better than that. I’ve got the video here. I downloaded it. Now, the money. Under the table, please.’

I had withdrawn the cash and put it in an envelope that I’d bought from a store up the street. I handed it to him beneath the table and he tucked it into his shirt pocket without bothering to count it.

‘Muchas gracias,’ he said, putting on a ridiculous accent.

He lay his phone on the table and tapped it a few times until an image appeared on the screen: the interior of Alison’s, close to the bar. The table where Eden and I had been sitting was at the edge of the frame, but was empty. The picture was full-colour and much better quality than I’d expected.

‘This is the start of the evening,’ he said. ‘Let me skip ahead.’

He slid his finger along the bottom of the screen and then let go so the footage began to play again. My heart flipped. There we were, clearly visible. Eden and me, though you could only see the back of my head until at one point I looked back towards the bar so my face was visible. Eden was leaning forward, saying something, and my shoulders shook like I was laughing. There were quite a few empty glasses between us and we looked like we were having a great time. We had been having a great time, and it was easy to see why Joe thought I’d been flirting with her.

‘Can you send me this?’ I asked.

‘No way. If my boss finds out he won’t only fire me, he’ll sue my ass.’

‘But we had a deal!’

I had raised my voice, drawing looks from people in the line, and he put his palms up and said, ‘Chill.’

‘We had a deal,’ I repeated in a hiss.

‘Yes, for me to look and show you what I found. I can’t give you the video.’

I hesitated. If I grabbed his phone would I be able to get away before he caught me? Before I could decide, he picked it up.

‘Here’s the best I can offer. I’ll take some close-up screenshots of Blondie and send them to you. Okay?’

I tried to protest again but he said, ‘That’s my best offer.’

I sighed. ‘I’m not giving you five hundred dollars for that.’

‘No problemo.’ He went to rise but I caught his arm.

‘Wait. I’ll give you two fifty.’

He sat back down. ‘You’ve already given me the money, hombre. I just don’t see me giving any of it back.’

I wanted to punch him. Nothing would have given me more pleasure at that moment.

‘You’re an asshole,’ I said.

‘So I’ve been told. What’s your number?’

I gave it to him and watched as he manipulated the images on his screen, zooming in on Eden’s face at several different angles and taking screenshots. A few minutes later my phone pinged several times and the images arrived.

Here it was. Proof that Eden existed.

Joe, if that was his real name, got up and patted me on the shoulder. He looked down at my uneaten burrito. ‘You want that?’

‘Take it.’

He snatched it up and left.



I stood outside Jack and Mona’s house, gripping my phone like it was a hand grenade that would go off if I dropped it, paranoid that if I let go it would vanish, taking the pictures of Eden with it. I had already messaged Callum to let him know I had the photos and he’d responded with a thumbs-up emoji. I didn’t tell him what I was planning, though, as I thought he might try to dissuade me. Tell me to wait. I couldn’t, though. I was sick of not being believed. I had to show Jack and Mona the proof. Then, I hoped, they would call Detective Krugman. With photos of Eden, surely he would be able to do something.

The house was bathed in soft light, the sky tinged with pink. It was less humid this evening, the heat not so unbearable; summer was losing some of its fierceness. I rang the bell and waited, the images of Eden ready on my phone screen. There was no reply. I rang the bell again, then peered through the front window at an empty room.

They weren’t home.

That took the wind out of my sails. What should I do? I could wait here on the front stoop, but they might be hours. I considered texting the pictures to them, but I wanted to see their faces when they saw the photos. I wasn’t only trying to prove I wasn’t lying; I was hoping they would recognise Eden, tell me they had encountered her somewhere. Maybe they would even know how to find her.

After mulling over my options, I sent a text to both Jack and Mona.

I have photos of Eden and really need to show them to you. I’m outside your place. Are you coming home soon?

There was no immediate response, and because the messages had sent as texts rather than iPhone messages, I couldn’t see if they had been delivered. Maybe Jack and Mona had gone to see a movie, or were at the theatre or somewhere else they wouldn’t be checking their phones.

I couldn’t just wait here on the stoop. I was too energised and restless. Mets’s fearful reaction to me made me believe that Eden had been back to Williamsburg. Maybe someone had seen her. Perhaps she’d been with someone else. It felt like, right now, every scrap of information could be useful.