Creep - Jennifer Hillier [97]
“So they were screwing. No shock there.” Morris kept his tone light. Holding the phone away, he downed his whiskey in one gulp. “What does this mean?”
“It might not mean anything.” Jerry paused. “But the guy’s a bit weird, you know? Squirrelly. Freaked out when the door closed. Guess he didn’t want to be stuck in a room alone with me.” The PI snorted. “Logically, I can’t blame him for not copping to the affair. Why would he admit it?”
Something Jerry said rubbed at Morris. A pang of familiarity, a twinge at the back of his neck, but it dissipated as soon as he tried to chase the thought.
“Thing is,” Jerry continued, “he was adamant that he didn’t know what happened to her.”
“You believed him?”
“No reason not to.”
“Does he have an alibi for the night she disappeared?”
“And which night would that be?” Jerry sounded annoyed. “We don’t even know when she left town. You were in Japan, remember? She didn’t call you until Sunday. She could have been anywhere by then. In any case, Wolfe doesn’t need an alibi because as far as we know, there’s been no crime.” Jerry sighed heavily.
“What?”
“I don’t know,” the PI said. “Something’s off. Wolfe struck me as off. He was wound way too tight for a guy who grades papers for a living.”
“So what do we do now?”
“I could follow the kid around for a couple days. Seems to be the only option left. But I’ll be honest with you, Morris, I don’t expect anything to come of it. There’s nothing to go on here. It’s more about me wanting to squash the weird vibes I got, if that makes any sense. And it’ll be expensive.”
“Not exactly the same price point as the Golden Monkey.”
That got a chuckle out of Jerry, but then his voice was serious again. “Listen, there’s something else I want you to think about. It’s looking like a long shot, but let’s say that, miracle of miracles, we do find Sheila. She’s now all pissed off you tracked her down. She’s gone somewhere to start a new life and now there you are on her doorstep demanding answers and reminding her of the person she doesn’t want to be anymore. She tells you to get lost. Is that the reunion you envisioned? Is that what you need to move on?”
“I don’t know what I need anymore.” Morris drank straight from the bottle this time. “But I’m not ready to let this go. I need to see her face, Jerry. She needs to tell me it’s over in person. At the very least, I deserve that.”
“Okay then. Just making sure. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Hey,” Morris said before the private investigator could hang up.
“Yeah?”
“About Wolfe. What did you think of him?”
“I already told you. Kind of a weasel, jumpy.”
That twinge again. “No, not that.” Morris hesitated. “Did you think he was good-looking?”
“I don’t know, he’s a dude,” Jerry said, exasperated. “And you’ve met him already.”
“Yeah, but I want to know what you think.”
“I don’t know.” Another sigh and the sound of knuckles popping. “I guess he’s good-looking. My wife is addicted to this soap opera, The Young and the Reckless—”
“Restless,” Morris corrected. “My ex was into that, too.”
“Whatever, it’s all crap. He looks like he could be on that show. He’s a handsome guy. Probably gets a lot of attention from the ladies because he’s young, fit, got a nice face.”
“Fantastic.” Morris took another swig.
“You asked.” A short silence. “Seriously, man, think about what I said about letting her go. You could spend your whole life wondering, ‘What if?’ The stress could kill you.”
Morris looked at the bottle in his hand. The deep amber liquid glowed in the dim light of the living room. “It already is killing me.”
He rode the elevator inside Puget Sound State University’s psychology building, armpits damp and fists clenched, feeling like a kid on the first day of school. Morris had checked his messages after he’d finished talking to Jerry the night before, and one of the office assistants from the university had left a voice mail. The department wanted Morris to clear out Sheila’s personal effects. They wanted to make room for a new professor who was currently sharing an office with someone else. Space