EIGHTEEN
Liam
It’s morning by the time Liz’s daughter Rachel and her dog arrive. After a few hours of sleep, I show up prepared to feed Michaels to the pigs. Weirdly, Gabriel won’t let me. I think he’s concerned about the welfare of the pigs.
Michaels didn’t want to chance the killer still being out there where Rachel could get hurt, so he refused to let her arrive until morning. I told him I would throw Matthew’s body in front of her if it came to that, but strangely, he seemed even less willing to work with me. I think Michaels was also positive that he could find Liz with the team—likely wanting his own “I told you so” cake—but by daybreak, I think the majority of the people were beginning to think that Liz wasn’t out here at all.
So when dawn comes and Michaels has nothing to show for it, he turns up with Liz’s daughter who is holding Puppins’ leash—it’s honestly a surprise the dog hasn’t run off with a name like that. “This is a waste of time and resources,” Sgt. Michaels makes sure to announce as he walks up to me and Matthew, since Gabriel is in the house.
“As long as I’m getting paid overtime, I don’t care.”
“You’re not getting fucking overtime,” Michaels grumbles. I do notice I seem to be the main one he cusses at, and honestly… I think that’s an accomplishment if I’ve ever seen one.
“Liam?” Gabriel says as he comes trotting out of the house he’d disappeared into about twenty minutes ago.
“Look how cute he is when he jogs,” I observe.
Michaels is so enamored by how cute it is that he nearly chokes on his despair.
“Look at this,” Gabriel says as he holds out an old photo album. He’s the only one wearing gloves, so I let him flip to what he wants me to see.
“Oh… fascinating.”
“What? I’m not sure if Gabriel actually found something of use or merely blinked, which Liam would find to be the best thing ever,” Matthew says.
“You’re literally going to be fed to the pigs. No ifs, ands, or buts, the pigs are going to eat you,” I decide. “If you had eyeballs, you’d realize that this building in the photo is no longer on the farm. You can tell it’s part of the farm because of this silo herewaaaayoff in the distance.”
“It looks like it used to be a bank barn, so if someone didn’t fill in the lower part when it was torn down, they could have created an underground area,” Gabriel says. “If we can find the location… maybe there’s something there.”
“Have at it,” Michaels says as I pass him a Post-it Note. “What’s this?”
“The number for an ice cream cake place I like. You know… for my ‘I told you soagain’ cake.”
“I do like cake,” Matthew comments.
“Don’t encourage him,” Michaels says as he balls up the note and throws it at my head. I catch it midair and chuck it back at him before scurrying off.
Michaels annoyingly follows us, which makes it harder to talk about him but not impossible. I’m definitely not above talking about someone when they’re looking me in the eyes. Rachel trails along with her mother’s dog.
“Do you think she’s okay?” she asks quietly.
I leave this question to the people who have far more compassion than I do. I used up all my spare compassion—the little that’s not reserved for Gabriel—the day that I finally caved and told Michaels he had something black in his teeth about four hours after I noticed it. It’s not my fault absolutely no one else told him either.
“We’re doing everything we can to find your mother, Rachel,” Gabriel says as he reaches out and gives her a gentle squeeze. She leans into his touch… I mean, who can blame her? She looks like she’s probably still in college and has already been graced with meeting the best man she’ll ever meet.
I do notice she keeps looking at me, and I can’t tell if I haven’t been snarky enough to scare her off or if I’ve been so snarky she wants to make sure she knows where I am at all times.
“Is what they said about my dad true?” she asks me. “Did he really break into your home? I looked it up… I looked the incident up and I just don’t believe my dad was involved in that. I really think you have the wrong guy. He can’t go to prison for something he didn’t do.”
Ah… so that’s what this is. She actually wasn’t staring at me because of my handsome face. Her loss.
“Well, what’d your dad say?” Matthew asks, which I’m not sure is the correct answer, but sure better than me having to explain myself.
“He… didn’t say much. He said he’d talk to me about it later… that he couldn’t now. I just don’t believe you. You have the wrong person.”
I catch her still staring at me, clearly wanting something out of me. “I’m going to be real honest… I don’t actually care what you think.”
Gabriel seems torn on what to say or do. Maybe this pity thing can play in my favor. I sure as fuck don’t want anyone else pitying me, but if he wants to, I could get behind it.
