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Tiberius stood and stretched nonchalantly. “How about we grab pizza or a burger? You can be privy to the case, dude. You earned it.” He put an index finger to his lips before Bexley could protest. “I won’t relay gritty details,” he whispered, “though it’s already in the news. You clearly need a win, and I want time with my son.”
Lord, help her, she did need a victory. “Sound good?” she reluctantly asked.
“Yeah,” Josiah said with more inflection. “I’ll put this slow cooker on Warm unless you’re still freaked out about it since watching This Is Us.”
Bexley laughed and enjoyed the millisecond of Josiah acting more like himself. “No, it’ll be fine.” It wasn’t a slow cooker catching fire she worried about. It was some deranged killer who might be toying with Bexley.
The items that had been stolen had been taken after Ahnah vanished.
Blue Harbor
Sea Scape Pizza
Saturday, September 1
7:36 p.m.
Ty sat on one side of the booth in the small local pizzeria specializing in seafood pizzas. Josiah and his mom on the other. Dim lighting screwed with his eyesight. Fishing nets and photos of generations of fishermen holding their catches lined the rustic walls—croaker, striped bass, speckled trout, drum, flounder and spot. Garlic, basil and oregano wafted through the cozy eatery, reminding Ty he was starved.
Out the window, the Pamlico Sound stretched before them. Not even a hint that a terrible storm might be hurtling through these parts in a matter of days. Residents could take precautions, but it wouldn’t necessarily save them if Hurricane Jodie—Why did they give hurricanes mostly women’s names? Was there something to that? Most of the evil storms he chased materialized in the form of men. But if she chose to exert her power and destroy everything in her path, none of their efforts would save them. They would be rendered powerless. Helpless. At her mercy if she chose to show any.
Hurricanes, like killers, never did.
Bexley sipped her diet drink while Josiah gulped down two-thirds of his sweet tea as they waited on a large pepperoni with mushrooms and a lobster pizza that Josiah promised they’d die over.
“Do you take all your missing persons’ families out to eat?” Josiah asked, through chewing on his straw. He was a ball of fidgety energy, and Ty wondered if he’d passed on his ADHD too along with his keen observation skills.
“No,” Ty said, fumbling for the right words. He looked to Bexley for help. She was the one demanding the cat stayed in the bag, and the local pizza joint wasn’t the prime place to drop the Dad bomb. Keeping his yap shut was one of the hardest challenges of his life, but he’d learned how to appear impassive and even chill in the most insidious moments. He’d interviewed dozens of killers, forced to hear the grimy details of how they committed heinous acts on innocent men, women and children. Attempting to treat this situation as one of those wasn’t panning out as well as he he’d hoped. Josiah wasn’t a serial killer. He was Ty’s son. After only a few moments, Ty recognized he was a fidgeter and had an impulsive streak.
Bexley twirled the beat-up napkin tighter with each twist. “We, uh. We actually went to the same school in Asheville.”
Truth, but a stretch. They lived in Asheville and were homeschooled.
“Cool.” Josiah leaned in, mischief pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What was my mom like in school? She never talks about growing up, and Ahnah doesn’t remember much before they moved to the Outer Banks.”
The atrocities Ahnah likely remembered were nothing she would want to share. No, those were things that poor girl would want to forget, which would be a sweet mercy if she could.
Time to have a little fun at Bexley’s expense. She had it coming. “What does she say?”
Bexley dropped the napkin. “I say that I was quiet and followed the rules and made good grades, which is what I expect out of my son.” She gave him the eye to tread lightly. When had Tiberius ever tread lightly?
My son.
Our son.
“Well, she was quiet in class, but she only followed the rules when authority figures were watching.” He grinned. “But when they weren’t, your mom was a wildcat.”
Josiah’s eyes lit up, and his mouth made the perfect O shape. “Dude, Mom. No way.” He laughed. “Mom doing anything wrong? I can’t imagine it.”
“I probably have a list somewhere of all her wrongs.” They were written on his heart in glass. Bex’s cheeks had turned a nice little shade of red, and Ty felt zero shame.
“Let me tell you something,” Ty added.
“Oh yay. Life lessons from Tiberius,” Bex muttered before sipping her diet drink again.
He swiped his hand in the air, waving her off. “I know some things. Some rules are meant to be followed, but not all rules.”
Bexley snorted. “Do not listen to that advice.”
