had come down the alleyway, a brown paper bag in his hand, but was walking toward me now.
“Yeah, fine.” I probably should have checked the lot before my impromptu rite of cleansing. Roger’s car was still there, parked in the back corner of the lot.
“Starting a bonfire?” Roger crouched by the dying embers of the sketch, which was thankfully too burned to be recognizable.
“No, just some personal information I needed to destroy.” My lie came so easily that it surprised even me. “Credit card stuff.”
Roger pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with the last flames from the paper. Rising, he took a drag. “You know they make shredders for that shit, man?”
I gave a wry grin. “This seemed more final. I’ve got to cut the lights.”
Roger nodded. “I’ll be here.”
Suiting action to words, I ran through the final checks I’d done a thousand times at Sinful Skin. Checking the safe, adjusting the AC, arming the alarm, all of it was simple habit. By the time I’d grabbed my helmet and returned to the back door, I had put all thoughts of Hailey back where they belonged—in the employee only file.
When I pulled the door shut behind me, twisting the handle to make sure the lock was engaged, Roger was just finishing his cigarette.
“Hey, Luce is out of town. Want to come by my place, grab a beer?” he asked, pulling his jeans higher around his waist. They sank right back to their original position as soon as his hands moved away. “It’s too quiet around that place without her.”
I thought about it, palming my helmet. I could either go home, do some work on that special commission I’d gotten last week, watch a movie, think about the problem with Hailey, or I could go to Rog’s and get shit-faced. The choice was simple.
“Lead on, my man.”
Chapter Seven
Hailey
The bus had been pretty quiet the night before, when I rode back to campus, but tonight? It was like a ghost town.
Only one other occupant sat at the very back when I climbed on, three plastic bags dangling from my hands. The little drugstore, thankfully, had late Sunday hours. I’d been out of a bunch of essentials. I fell into the third seat on the aisle, setting my purchases beside me. A shopping run had given me the chance to decompress.
Oh, really? the voice inside my head asked. I thought we were just avoiding facing our problems. Again.
I rolled my eyes as the bus rumbled to a stop. I couldn’t even get my subconscious to cut me some slack. The older woman rolled her shopping basket down the aisle, bumping it down the steps as she exited. The engine revved and the bus rolled on.
So what’s stopping you now? Why don’t you call her?
With a deep, steadying breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket, the back of my hand rubbing against the rough bus seat cover. I didn’t let myself think about it anymore, just opened the contacts and pressed “Mom’s Cell” as quickly as I could.
This time the phone didn’t bother to ring. It went straight to the error message. We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service . . .
When the bus rumbled to a stop at school, tears were tracking down my cheeks. I picked up my shopping bags and slowly descended the steps to the sidewalk.
My chest was tight, painful like a heart attack, as I walked across the darkened campus. It was sort of eerie at this time of night, empty with shadows and faraway sounds. I ignored them as I entered my dorm. Why? Without a word to me, my mother had disappeared off the face of the earth, just like that?
When I’d reached my thankfully empty room, I dumped my bags on the end of my bed and then dialed another number. One I’d sworn I wouldn’t be calling again for as long as I possibly could.
So much for that vow.
“Dad,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and low as possible. “Where is she?”
“Well, hello, Hailey, it’s nice to hear from you.” The obviously phony cheer in