Curtis shut the car door and settled down in the driver’s seat before he turned his phone back on – the first time he’d done so in more than three hours. He’d once again claimed he was sick, yet that didn’t stop both work colleagues and clients trying to reach him all through the day. Turning the phone off was the only way to properly shut it all out.
But he needed the internet now.
He sighed as he waited for the phone to boot up. It had been a wasted day. Well, a frustrating day more than anything. At least he hadn’t had to travel so far this time, and had again avoided that long journey across to Charlotte to check in on the old address he had for Finn. Instead he’d managed to track down Finn’s other two old friends from his Clemson days, Jason Okajay and Martin Baxter. Jason lived with his wife and two daughters in Athens, not far from Atlanta and, like Greg the day before, had claimed to have not seen or heard from Finn in years. Martin, on the other hand…
He lived alone in Alpharetta, an up-and-coming satellite city of Atlanta. The gates to the condo complex where he lived lay outside Curtis’s window as his phone started up. Curtis had spent the last half an hour with him. Martin claimed to have not seen Finn for six years, since around the same time Curtis last saw him, when Finn had been in the Atlanta area for a few days for their mom’s funeral with that new girlfriend, Emily.
In fact, it turned out that Martin – or his then girlfriend, at least – had introduced the two of them at a reunion get-together.
Emily Poulter. It didn’t sound like Martin had known her well, and he hadn’t seen her for a few years, but he believed she lived in Atlanta – right under Curtis’s nose.
Was Finn there too?
He ignored the many unread emails on his phone, and the on/off questions in his mind over the long-term repercussions of him turning his back on his job, even if only in the short term. He couldn’t do the same with the messages from Rachel. He felt her anguish as he read…
He’d tell her. He’d tell her tonight. Whatever the cause of tension in their relationship, it wasn’t fair on her to keep her in the dark. And he hated the idea that she thought something else was happening – an affair?
But then, if he told her truth, opened up about the lie…
I’ll be home for dinner tonight x
He hit send and stared at the screen a moment, thinking of something else to say.
Shall I get us something nice to eat?
As he waited for a response he quickly checked the news. Plenty of the bigger outlets were still carrying headlines surrounding the attack at the Capitol, but there’d been no mention of Finn at all. No mention of who the attackers were, their identities, their intentions. Charlton too had laid low since his initial flurry of interviews. Curtis wasn’t sure if he was even in the country anymore.
So the media were left to theorize, conspiracies becoming more and more wide-ranging and fantastical.
After ten minutes he still had no response from Rachel and could see she hadn’t even read the messages yet. He sighed and went on to Facebook and put Emily’s full name into the search bar. His brother had never used social media, apparently because he hated the idea of his life being on display, but Curtis had always believed it was more to do with an ulterior desire to lead a secretive life.
Why?
In any case, Finn was the exception, and much of Curtis’s digging so far had been on social media. The idea of tracking down Emily had been on Curtis’s mind since he’d first started on this quest, but without even a surname he hadn’t known where to start before now.
Within two minutes of scrolling on Facebook he’d found her. It scared him a little at how easy it was. Perhaps he’d have to think twice himself about how much of his life, his identity, was out there for all to see.
Emily Poulter. A public profile. From her picture she looked as young and effervescent as she had when Curtis had first met her. He quickly scrolled through her photos. Nothing of Finn there. No sign of another partner either.
She worked as a recruiter at Mason’s in Cumberland, only a few miles from Curtis’s office.
Mind made up, Cumberland was his next stop.
His phone pinged. Rachel.
I’m not sure I’ll be back for dinner. Go ahead without me.
He slumped a little at that and sighed. He’d seen her briefly in the morning. Having had no alcohol the night before, he’d been much more with it this time when she woke and started padding around upstairs. She hadn’t exactly avoided him before she left for work, but they’d hardly been relaxed and chatty with each other either. When had that last been the case, though?
Was she now deliberately staying out late?
He typed out another message.
That’s a shame. Let me know if anything changes x
He turned his phone off, put it away and got moving. The drive from Alpharetta to Cumberland, ten miles north-west of downtown Atlanta, was slow, even though he mostly moved against the heavier traffic leaving the big city as rush hour approached. Rush hour? More like a three-hour rush these days.
He parked up at the Battery, a modern and trendy mixed-use development which had Truist Park – home of the Atlanta Braves – at its heart. He checked his watch. Gone four thirty. Would Emily already have left work for the day? He didn’t even know if she was at work today. He rolled his eyes at himself, a feeling of inadequacy gnawing at him as it had many times over the last couple of days. He wasn’t cut out for this, playing detective. He didn’t even really know what he was trying to achieve. Find Finn and then… What?
He pushed the doubts aside and made his way past the looming stadium toward a cluster of low-rise offices, stopping at a corner where the ground floor plot was occupied by a micro-brewery-come-sports bar. He looked across the street to Mason’s which took up a portion of a big, modern redbrick building that looked like it had been styled on an early twentieth century inner-city factory. Plenty of lights on beyond the lead-lined windows and heads bobbing here and there. Within fifteen minutes of standing in wait, several people had come out of the doors, but not Emily.
How long would he stand there like a chump?
Forty-five minutes, give or take, before finally he spotted a familiar face emerging from the building. Emily Poulter. He’d not seen her in years – had barely met her back then – but something about seeing her now brought back a flash of memories. His mom’s funeral. The day clearing out her house.
Emily wasn’t alone. She stepped out chatting away to a tall, lean man. Younger than her and with a confident manner in his stylish office gear.
In the time Curtis had been waiting, he’d played this moment in his head over and over. The best course of action, he’d decided, was to simply walk straight up to Emily and introduce himself.
But seeing her in company caused him to pause, as though it changed the proposition. So instead, he followed after them as they moved away, onto Battery Avenue and back toward the stadium. The voice of doubt in his head grew louder with each step. What now? Follow her all the way home, wherever that was? Wasn’t that just… creepy and weird? And who was to say she even lived nearby? There were plenty of apartment buildings here but what if she lived twenty miles away and she jumped into a car and left him stranded, unable to follow? She’d be long gone before he got back to his car to tail her. Would he hail a taxi at the curb, like they did in the movies?
Despite these thoughts, he didn’t stop.
He looked over his shoulder nervously a couple of times as he walked. There were plenty of people about here, he could feel watchful eyes on him. It was the same feeling as the night before in Clemson, in those moments before he’d stumbled and fallen in dog mess.
Memories of that, particularly the smell, came to the fore and he was nearly caught out when Emily and her friend stopped walking and turned to each other. He ducked into the entranceway of a building and watched.
Both of them laughed at something the guy said, then he leaned forward. A strange hug-come-kiss on the cheek followed that neither really seemed to know how to deal with. Then Emily turned and carried on away. But the man paused. He glanced in Curtis’s direction.
Curtis’s heart skipped a beat and he pulled himself further back from the street, hopefully out of view. But then the door to the building behind him opened and he jerked and spun around as though about to attack or defend or—
He clocked the woman coming out of the door. She was as startled as he was, it seemed, but before she could utter a word he turned back around, jumped onto the sidewalk and strode away from her.
What an imbecile you are.
He pushed the thought away. Emily’s friend had gone and she was several yards further along the street. Curtis set off after her, even more jittery now than before, even more unsure of his own actions.
She carried on past Truist Park, toward the outer edge of the development, the roar of traffic from the ever-busy I-75 growing all the time. Where was she going?
She took a left, down a pedestrian trail that led through a small, wooded area. A further cluster of apartment buildings came into view as he emerged from the trees. She headed straight for the nearest building.
There was no way he could follow her inside – that was way too creepy.
‘Hey, Emily!’ he called out before he could stop himself.
She twisted around almost instantaneously, her posture stiffening. Even if the hour was early, the street here was dark and quiet and she had every right to be on edge at the unexpected voice.
‘Emily, right?’ Curtis said, moving casually toward her, trying to sound friendly and amenable. Still, her face creased with suspicion as her eyes flitted around – scoping for threats or looking for escape routes? She took a couple of half-steps away from him. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said, holding his hands up. ‘It’s me, Curtis Delaney? Finn’s brother?’
A flash of recognition – and something else too – on her face.
‘Right,’ she said, nodding, but her manner was far from relaxed. ‘Curtis. Yeah. This is… unexpected.’
‘Isn’t it? You live here?’ Shit, so now he was making her think this was a coincidence. His nerves were getting the better of him.
‘Do you?’ she asked.
‘No, I was… I… Can we talk?’
Now she looked even more distrustful. He was doing a terrible job of winning her over. If it’d been lighter out she would have spotted his flushed cheeks. In fact, perhaps that would have helped her realize he wasn’t a threat, just a bit of an idiot.
‘About what?’
‘About Finn.’
‘What about him?’ There was anger and distaste in her voice.
‘I’m looking for him. I’m hoping you can help?’
‘Me? I haven’t seen your brother in years.’
‘Last time I saw him… he was with you.’
‘Yeah,’ she said, shoulders relaxing a little. ‘I remember. Sorry… about your mom.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I remember that day. I think. Maybe. Sorry. I was young, naive, and… we both just wanted to get away from there. Looking back, if I didn’t come across very well…’
Actually, he’d never thought ill of her. He didn’t know enough about her for that. But the way Finn had left so abruptly that day had definitely left a bad taste that still lingered and had never dulled.
‘It’s fine,’ Curtis said. ‘It was a long time ago. The thing is, I really need to find him. I don’t know anyone who’s seen him more recently than you.’
‘Me? I haven’t seen him in about… four years.’
‘So… what happened with you two?’
She looked around again then sighed.
‘It’s cold out,’ Curtis added. ‘We could go inside to talk.’ She didn’t look as though she liked that idea at all. ‘Or I can buy you a coffee?’
‘No need,’ she said. ‘This won’t take long. What do you want to know?’
‘Do you know where he is? How I can contact him? Address, email, phone – anything.’
‘He’s really that far removed from your life?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good for you.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Do you know what that asshole did to me?’
He didn’t, but Curtis increasingly got the feeling that he wasn’t the only one who felt aggrieved with Finn. Everyone he’d spoken to so far seemed to carry a certain bitterness toward his brother.
‘He told me you were going to Dubai,’ Curtis said.
‘Yeah. And maybe I was stupid, but I thought he really loved me. I ditched everything here to go thousands of miles away with him. And to start with it was really good. Nice apartment, plenty of money, new places to see, things to do.’
‘And then?’
‘And then one day I arrived home after a week away with some friends and the prick had cleared up and left.’
‘Left?’
‘Yeah. Our apartment was empty. He literally took everything. Cancelled the tenancy. Had my few belongings waiting for me in boxes and a couple of suitcases with the concierge. Can you believe it?’
‘But…’
‘What?’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s a self-centered asshole.’
True, true…
‘You never saw him after that?’ Curtis asked.
‘Never again. I called him. To start with he even answered a few times. But he wouldn’t even tell me where he went. Just that it was over. Time for me to go home.’
‘You think he’d left Dubai then?’
‘I’m certain of it. Because that’s what he does. A few months here, a few months there. Make some money, piss off some people. Bail before the problems get too big, or any relationships get too serious.’
Curtis said nothing as his mind worked that over.
‘He took me for a ride, and you can probably tell I’m not quite over it.’
He certainly could; the angry words that hissed out of her mouth were testament to that.
‘You still know how to contact him?’ he asked.
‘His phone went dead a couple of weeks later. I had an email address for him but he never responded to anything I sent him. And I tried for weeks because the way I saw it, he owed me. He cost me a fortune. I hadn’t worked out there, and I had no way of staying without a job and a visa. In the end I had to pay to get me and my things back home. It took me months to get back on my feet here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Curtis said.
‘What’s he done now?’ she asked.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Why are you looking for him? What sort of trouble is he in?’
‘It’s hard to explain.’
She continued to glare through an increasingly awkward silence. ‘Really? That’s the best you’ve got?’
‘If you could give me the details you have… had for him? Maybe it’ll help me.’
He handed her a business card. She gave it a perfunctory glance before slipping it into a pocket.
‘Is there anyone else you think could help? Any friends or work colleagues or—’
‘No,’ she said.
‘You were friends with Martin Baxter too?’
She frowned. ‘Friends? No, we were friends of friends. I probably only met him twice. Finn doesn’t have real friends – just people he collects and discards along the way.’
‘So you don’t have any other names you can give me?’
‘I wouldn’t want to burden anyone else.’
That wasn’t really a very clear reason for not helping, but he didn’t push her.
‘It was… nice to see you again, Curtis,’ she said, already edging away. ‘And I’ll let you know if I think of anything. But… if you see him before I do, tell him I haven’t forgotten. Tell him he still owes me.’
She turned and left.