Cal avoided Rose's eyes the next morning. Her cries from the night before still ringing in his ears, he silently accepted the half-bowl of oatmeal she handed him. He ate slowly, hating the way it stuck to his tongue. Oatmeal had always been his least favorite breakfast as a child, and compared to the steaming bowls of fresh oatmeal topped on Tuesdays and Thursdays with cinnamon, Mondays and Wednesdays with brown sugar, and Fridays with fruit, what he was eating at that moment was pond water thickened by algae.
Rose sat against the wall, beads of sweat already covering her face. Her hands were flat next to her, a filthy handkerchief clutched in her right fist. On the corner that escaped her grip, Cal read the embroidered monogram J. D. For the first time since their captivity began, he allowed himself to truly look at her. He took in her dress with its torn hem and skirt stained from the dirt floor, her limp curls resembling a dull penny, a far cry from the brilliant fire he remembered. He had to clear his throat twice before words would come out.
"Are you all right?"
She looked up, confused by the sound of his voice. "What?"
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.
"I'm not cold anymore, but I don't know if I would call how I feel all right." She sighed. "It's so unbearably hot down here. I hope they know they can't collect on our ashes after we spontaneously combust," she added drily, earning a chuckle from Cal.
"I'm not sure they're smart enough to think," he said. He glared at the door. "Damned gutter rats."
"Those two are not comparable to Jack." Rose arched her back and stretched her arms. "That you can even suggest such a thing shows how little you know him."
"I wasn't aware I ever wanted to know him."
Rose smiled slightly. "You have no idea what you're missing."
"Actually, I think I'll get along just fine without his sanctimonious presence in my life."
*****
Jack's coffee was cold by the time he remembered to take a sip. He tasted nothing. He looked up as Amanda came in. He wasn't the only one who noticed her. Everyone in the small restaurant turned to watch as she swept across the room. She shone like a diamond, her brilliance creating in the onlookers an almost painful sense of their own drabness in comparison. Except for Jack, who even under happy circumstances would have found her interesting only from an artistic standpoint. All he saw were all the things she wasn't—in sum, Rose.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said, sitting down across from him. "I found a few more papers in Cal's desk." She pushed them across the table to him. "I think they prove our theory."
Jack skimmed the first page. "So, he kept things going," he said. "And Cal couldn't resist the chance to prove he could piss the farthest." Amanda cringed. "Sorry," Jack added. "I know he's your husband and you love him."
"He is."
"But I can't think of him as—" He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. Let's forget I said anything. I'm not thinking that clearly right now."
"I understand. Perhaps you should eat something."
"I'm fine. I had—" His eyes found the cold toast. "Apparently nothing." He ate quickly, not tasting a bite.
When the plate was empty, Amanda spoke. "I have an appointment with the chief of police in an hour. I was hoping you would go with me."
"Yeah, of course." He tossed a few quarters on the table. "Let's go."
*****
Lloyd Kelly leaned forward, hands clasped on his desk. "So, basically," he said slowly, "Mrs. Hockley, your husband has gone missing. You, Mr. Dawson, your wife has as well." They nodded. "And they were once engaged, which according to you, Mr. Dawson, ended…ah…badly. And you both have come to the conclusion that they were abducted. Together. By the same people. Is that correct?"
"We aren't stupid," Amanda said indignantly. "We are well aware of how insane this all sounds." She held up a hand. "I am not finished. However, that does not give you a license to ignore or belittle our situation. The fact that both of our spouses have disappeared without a trace must be contended with one way or another. Now, are you going to do your job, or do I need to contact a higher authority?"
"I was merely commenting on the unusual nature of the situation," Lloyd said apologetically. "Please don't take offense. I assure you I will do everything in my power to assist with the recovery of your loved ones. Of course, I don't know where I would begin."
"Right here," Jack said, tossing a thick folder on his desk. "Everything you need should be in there."
Lloyd eyed him curiously. "What is all of this?"
"Those are papers we found among my husband's things," Amanda explained. "We believe they indicate the person responsible."
"I hardly think," Lloyd said, "this person would be living under his real name. If he's behind this, he surely isn't stupid enough to stay out in the open."
"But maybe that's why he would be," Jack said, "to seem like he hasn't done anything. And who's to say he doesn't have people working for him?"
"Son, what is it you do?"
Jack ignored the patronizing tone. "I'm an artist."
"Uh-huh. Now, does that have anything to do with detecting? With solving puzzles, mysteries, that sort of thing?"
"Well, no, but—"
"All right, then. Why don't you leave the police work to the professionals. You'll just upset yourself further if you go on trying to figure it out on your own."
*****
"The nerve of that man!" Amanda cried. She walked quickly, not noticing the outraged stares of her fellow pedestrians as she elbowed past them. "How dare he speak to you that way? Just what did he think—"
"He thought that he could."
"What?" She gaped at Jack. "Are you not even a little upset? Do you not realize—"
"There are people he can be rude to and people he can't. I'm one of the people he can speak to that way."
"That's simply—"
"But you have to know it's like that," he said. "When we met, the cop at the desk didn't give a damn what I was saying, but the moment you came in…"
"He listened to me," she finished. "Yes, I remember."
"And I'm sure that wasn't the first time something like that happened."
"I'm sure you're right." She sighed. "I never cared before. I think I liked things better when I didn't."
"I guess that would be a bit easier."
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think he'll actually do anything?"
"I don’t know," he admitted. "I want to believe he will, but really, I think he'll just look for Cal. If he does that much."
"I should have handled that better. I shouldn't have let him just push us out of his office like that. I was just so shocked that I forgot what to do when dealing with people like that. I suppose I'll have to call his father after all."
"Why haven't you?"
"I wanted to keep it out of the papers as long as possible. The last thing we need is publicity like this. Cal has enough problems to contend with as it is."
"I think right now his biggest problem is that we can't find him."
*****
"Martin? Glad I caught you." Lloyd leaned back in his chair. "Listen," he said, "we've got a problem."