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Very wrong.
I ignore my body’s response; as much as I would enjoy sitting at the table with him and just pushing my thighs together, it’s not the time or place.
“I’m up to date with everything regarding your friend,” he says. “But I want to double check to make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed.”
Everything matches up. He has all the information that the other Alphas have. There’s nothing new, and he rambles off all the facts about April dispassionately.
It rubs me the wrong way.
As we talk, it starts to feel like he’s here out of obligation.
Or maybe he just did Landon and River a favor.
I don’t expect him to have the same passion that either of them does, but he seems sort of…bored.
“The frustrating thing is that I feel like more could be done. Maybe we could—” I start to say, but he interrupts me.
“From what I see, everything has been done. They’ve interviewed any potential witnesses; and they pulled security footage from the day she disappeared. It’s been more than three weeks—and I don’t want to give you false hope.”
I blink at him. “False hope?” I squeak.
I have the urge to fling my coffee at him.
He’s much too nonchalant about this for my liking.
“Skylar, people go missing every day,” he says, exasperated. “Believe me. I’ve seen it. And the longer they aren’t found…the statistics get worse.”
“No,” I say, unable to process what he’s saying. “No, there’s always hope.”
“There’s hope, and then there’s being realistic,” he adds coldly. “I applaud you for doing all this. I believe you want your friend back. But if she’s found, I would prepare yourself for the worst possible outcome.”
I stare at the monster in front of me, my mouth open in shock.
Angry tears fill my eyes. “Is there anything at all you can do to help me?” I whisper. “Can you think of something that might have been missed?”
He sighs, looking off into the distance. Then he nods. “Do you have any enemies?” he asks suddenly.
“Enemies?”
“Someone that doesn’t like April or you. Maybe an angry ex-boyfriend, or someone you’re no longer friends with—”
“I have a shitty ex,” I say. “He was kind of an asshole to me.”
And for the first time since trying the macaron, I sense a reaction out of him. It’s not big—it’s as if he’s still trying to be as unbothered as possible—but I catch his eyes narrow. “Did he hit you, or did he—”
“No. He was a narcissist, I think. Just selfish.”
He slightly relaxes in the chair. “And April?” he asks.
I shrug. “Her breakups were all amicable.”
He nods his head. “Okay. I’ll tell Landon to poke around more.” He drains his coffee and places the cup down. “Sorry for bothering you. I’ll let you go back to work now.”
I frown—he seems so put out by this conversation. “Well, do you have any suggestions?” I ask gently. “I mean, I’ve already talked with local news, but maybe there’s something I’m missing.”
“Like I said,” he says, “you’re doing everything you should be.”
“Okay, well, is there anything you could do? I mean, since you’re here and all—”
