A Wrinkle in Thyme Page 5

  But that wasn’t what really had my attention.

  Dean might have claimed he was looking for something he’d lost, but I had no doubt in my mind that he’d lied to us.

  Chapter Six

  Within minutes of arriving at The Flip Side the next morning, I knew something wasn’t right. I entered the kitchen to find Ivan grimly chopping up zucchini for the frittata we’d named Thyme for Breakfast. Although Ivan often had a surly expression on his face, this one was more dour than usual. Something else was even more obvious, though.

  “Where’s Tommy?” I asked as soon as I’d greeted Ivan.

  I almost always found the two of them working in the kitchen when I arrived at the pancake house. I would have assumed that Tommy was in the washroom or breakroom if I hadn’t passed both walking from the office to the kitchen.

  “He’s late.” Ivan kept chopping, the blade of his knife moving swiftly.

  “He’s never late.” I amended my statement. “At least, not this late.”

  “He’s never arrived more than ten minutes after me,” Ivan said.

  Which probably meant that he was always on time.

  A tiny flame of concern flickered to life in my chest. “Have you heard from him?”

  “I texted him.” Ivan set down his knife and wiped his hands before retrieving his phone from his pocket.

  He usually kept his phone in his locker while working, so I knew he was worried too.

  He checked the device. “No reply.”

  “Maybe he’s sick.” I thought that was the most likely explanation.

  If he was really unwell, he might not have woken up yet, or he might not have been able to get in touch with us.

  “I’ll try to reach him too.” I darted out of the kitchen and down the hall to the office. Grabbing my phone, I sent a text message of my own to Tommy.

  Everything okay? You’re usually here by now.

  I tucked my phone in my pocket, making sure the sound was on so I’d know as soon as I received a response. I scanned the dining room, checking that everything was ready for the day’s customers.

  I straightened some napkin dispensers and salt-and-pepper shakers, knowing that I was just giving my anxious energy an outlet rather than accomplishing anything.

  Once I could no longer deny the fact that everything was ready to go, I returned to the kitchen, pulling my phone out again, even though it hadn’t made a sound. I checked it anyway. As I already knew, I had no new messages.

  Ivan’s dark gaze followed my every move.

  “I’ll try calling him,” I said.

  If Tommy was asleep, maybe that would wake him up. As long as his phone had the sound turned on.

  While Ivan cracked eggs into a bowl, I put a call through to Tommy’s number. Even though Ivan kept working, I knew his attention hadn’t really left me.

  The small flame of worry inside of me danced higher when the call went to voicemail after three rings.

  “Tommy, we’re worried about you. Please let us know if you’re all right.”

  I hung up and met Ivan’s gaze.

  “Something’s not right,” he said, voicing the thought that had circled around in my head a dozen times since I’d arrived at the pancake house.

  I checked the time on my phone. “Half an hour until we open.” I bit down on my lower lip, trying to figure out what to do. “Do you need me to help you here in the kitchen?”

  “I can manage for now,” Ivan assured me.

  He’d worked on his own in the kitchen before, but with business as brisk as it had been lately, I knew it would be hard for him to shoulder the entire burden of kitchen duty for the whole day.

  I came to a decision. “If we don’t hear back from Tommy by the time Leigh and Sienna arrive, I’ll swing by his place and see what’s up.”

  Ivan indicated his approval of that plan with a curt nod. He got back to whisking the eggs in the bowl, but the set of his mouth, more downturned than usual, told me he was as worried as I was about Tommy.

  I tried to keep my anxiety from escalating by settling in at my desk, checking The Flip Side’s email, and making myself a to-do list of administrative tasks for the coming week. I made sure to include writing a couple of help wanted ads.

  As much as I tried to distract myself, I couldn’t stop worrying about Tommy. The minutes ticked by slowly, but I eventually heard voices coming from out front.

  I jumped up from my desk and reached the office door in time to see Leigh and Sienna heading for the breakroom.

  They both greeted me cheerily, unaware that anything was amiss.

  I followed them into the breakroom. “Have either of you heard from Tommy this morning?” I knew it was unlikely, but I figured I should check before running off in search of him.

  They both answered in the negative.

  “Isn’t he here?” Leigh asked as she hung her jacket in her locker.

  “Tommy’s always here when we arrive,” Sienna said, a hint of worry beneath her words.

  “Except that one time when he was sick with the stomach flu,” Leigh reminded her.

  I clutched my phone, which still had no new messages. “But that time he got in touch and told me and Ivan that he wouldn’t be in.”

  “You haven’t heard from him?” Now Leigh sounded worried too.

  I quickly explained the situation to them.

  “He must be really sick,” Sienna said, the concern in her eyes changing into fear.

  “I’m going by his place to see what’s up.” I looked at my phone yet again. Nothing had changed other than the time, which had advanced by one minute. “Are you okay to open without me?”

  “Yes, of course. Go on,” Leigh urged me.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Leaving everything behind but my phone, I dashed out the back door and across the parking lot. Tommy and his roommates lived in a house located only a few minutes away from The Flip Side. That was good, since I was eager to get there, and I didn’t have my car with me. I walked to and from work each day whenever the weather was good.

  I jogged all the way to the street where Tommy lived before slowing to a walk. I’d never been to his house before, but I’d gone walking and jogging along the street many times, and I knew he lived in the blue two-story house in the middle of the block.

  As I approached the front steps, I glanced at my phone once more. No one had texted me to say that Tommy had shown up in my absence. Anxiety swirled in my stomach. I took the steps two at a time and knocked on the front door. I could hear music playing somewhere inside the house. It must have covered the sound of approaching footsteps because the door opened without warning, startling me.

  One of Tommy’s roommates stood before me in jeans, a T-shirt, and bare feet. His brown hair was almost as curly as mine.

  “Hi. It’s Keegan, right?” I said. Tommy had introduced us once at a community event.

  It took him a second, but then recognition flashed in his eyes. “You’re Tommy’s boss.”

  “Marley.”

  He nodded. “Right. What’s up?”

  “Is Tommy here?”

  Keegan rubbed his jaw. “Shouldn’t he be at work?”

  “He should be, but he’s not,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him, and I’m worried he might be sick or something.”

  “He must be. He’s no slacker.” Keegan stepped back to make room for me to enter the house. “Come on in. I’ll go see what’s up.”

  After Keegan shut the door, I waited in the foyer while he headed up the stairs to the second floor. An Arrowsmith song played on a stereo somewhere at the back of the house, but otherwise, everything was quiet. Keegan and Tommy had two other roommates, but there was no sign of them at the moment.

  Keegan reappeared, running a hand through his curly hair
as he descended the stairs. “He’s not here.”

  My worry intensified, sending uneasy sparks through my body. “Where else could he be?”

  My mind immediately conjured up images of Tommy lying injured at the side of a road. But if he’d been struck by a car or collapsed while on his way to work, surely I would have seen him on my way to his house. Unless an ambulance had whisked him away to the hospital. I hadn’t heard any sirens, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any.

  I fought back the panic that was trying to claw its way up through my chest. There was a good chance that there was a perfectly reasonable, unfrightening explanation for Tommy’s absence.

  “When’s the last time you saw him?” I asked Keegan.

  “Yesterday.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels as he thought. “Early evening.”

  “Did he go out somewhere?”

  “To some charity gala.”

  “Right.” I remembered Tommy mentioning that. “He was hired to take photos.”

  “Maybe he’s with a girl.” Keegan didn’t sound too sure about that scenario.

  “Has he been seeing anyone recently?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of, and he probably would have mentioned it if he was.”

  “Even if he had spent the night at a girlfriend’s place, it’s still not like him to miss work and not answer his phone,” I said.

  “Yeah. You’re right.” Keegan’s brown eyes were troubled. “Do you think something bad has happened?”

  “I’m trying not to jump to that conclusion.” I was fast losing that battle, though. I tried to think clearly and logically. “So you don’t know if he ever came home after the gala?”

  “If he did, it was after I’d gone to bed. I was asleep by eleven.”

  “Did you see his camera in his room?” I asked.

  Keegan stood up straighter. “Good thinking. I didn’t look for it.” He jogged up the stairs again, calling over his shoulder, “Come on up.”

  I followed him up the creaking stairs.

  At the top, Keegan turned left and entered the first room on his right. I trailed after him and stopped just inside the doorway.

  It felt like an invasion of Tommy’s privacy for me to be in there without his permission, but I hoped he’d understand. His room wasn’t the tidiest place ever, but it also wasn’t a complete mess. His dark blue bedspread was pulled up, although not with the greatest care, and a pair of jeans and the T-shirt I’d seen him in the day before hung over the back of a chair. Two pairs of sneakers lay haphazardly next to the door, along with an empty water bottle.

  Beneath the window was a desk holding a laptop computer, a tablet, a phone charger, wireless earbuds, some spare change, and a couple of science fiction novels. His body board and skateboard leaned up against the wall next to the desk.

  I swept my gaze over the room for a second and third time while Keegan moved around the space, taking a closer look at the desk and bedside table.

  His camera’s usually on the desk,” he said. “I don’t see it anywhere. Same with his phone.”

  I pulled out my own phone and dialed Tommy’s number. The only ringing I heard came through my phone’s speaker. Tommy’s phone either wasn’t here, or the sound was off. My money was on the first possibility.

  As with my previous call, this one went to voicemail after a few rings. I hung up without leaving another message.

  Keegan rubbed the back of his neck. “What should we do now?”

  That was the same question going through my mind.

  “Do you know anyone else who was going to be at the gala?” I asked.

  “No. I think it was mostly rich people who were going. Not really my circle.”

  “I don’t know anyone who was going either, but Evangeline Oldershaw-Hobbs and her husband hosted the event.”

  “I know who they are,” Keegan said, “but I’ve never said two words to them.”

  “I can probably find out how to get in touch with Evangeline.” I figured Jane might know. Otherwise, I could ask Sienna’s mom, Patricia. She seemed to know everyone in Wildwood Cove. “If I can talk to Evangeline, at least we can find out if Tommy ever showed up to take the photos. But before I do that, I think I’ll retrace his steps. He went on foot, right?”

  “Yep.” Keegan nodded at Tommy’s skateboard. “He left his wheels behind, and he goes everywhere on foot or on his skateboard.”

  “Okay. I know the charity gala was being held at the local banquet hall,” I said. “There are a couple of routes he could have taken to get there and back. I’ll walk both of them and see what I can find.”

  I desperately hoped I wouldn’t find something terrible. I was still wishing that Tommy would turn up unharmed, apologizing profusely for having lost track of time or over-sleeping somewhere other than at home. I had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to happen, though, no matter how hard I wished for it.

  Keegan checked his phone. “I’m supposed to be heading to work in a few minutes, but I can call in sick and help you look if you want.”

  “That’s okay.” I wanted company, but I didn’t want him to miss work if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

  “Can you let me know if you find him?” Keegan asked. “Or if you don’t.”

  “Of course.” We exchanged phones so we could enter our contact information.

  Once I had my phone back, I didn’t linger any longer.

  A lump of dread sat heavily in my stomach, and anxiety tightened my chest, but I set off along one of the two routes Tommy might have taken to the banquet hall. I was terrified of finding him hurt—or worse—but I was also scared of not finding him.

  I paused on a street corner, just long enough to send a text message to Leigh, letting her know what I was doing. I knew she’d share the information with Sienna and Ivan.

  I longed for Brett’s company. He’d most likely left for work already, and I hated to interrupt his day, but I really wanted to talk to him. Maybe he’d offer up some completely logical explanation for Tommy’s absence that I’d yet to contemplate. Even if that wasn’t the case, I still wanted to hear his voice. If he offered to help me look for Tommy, I probably wouldn’t turn him down because my dread was growing heavier with every step.

  I was about to phone Brett when I reached the end of the next street. Emergency lights flashed up ahead. I froze, my heart dropping before pounding against my ribcage. The next second, I broke into a run.

  Chapter Seven

  As I charged along the street, I counted the emergency vehicles. There were three sheriff’s department cruisers and an ambulance. As I drew closer, I realized that they’d all parked in front of the museum. Could they still be there for Tommy?

  I ran full tilt until I reached the museum. Then I stopped and looked around, my heart still racing in my chest. I recognized the sheriff’s deputy talking to a paramedic on the front lawn. I jogged over his way.

  “Deputy Devereaux!” I called, his name little more than a gasp. My lungs and chest ached, not so much from the exertion of running as from panic.

  Devereaux said a final word to the paramedic and broke away from her, coming to meet me.

  I had to draw in two ragged breaths before I could speak again. “What’s happened? Is it Tommy? Is he okay?”

  “Hold on,” the deputy said. “Who are you worried about?”

  “Tommy Park. He works at The Flip Side. He’s missing, and when I saw all the emergency vehicles…”

  “They’re not for him,” Devereaux said. “There’s been an incident at the museum, but Tommy’s not here.”

  A wave of relief crashed over me, but it retreated almost as quickly. Tommy was still missing.

  A van slowed on the road and parked across the street from the emergency vehicles. When I took a closer look, I realized it was the medical
examiner’s van.

  “Somebody’s dead?” I asked with apprehension. “Who? What happened?

  “I’m afraid I can’t say,” Deputy Devereaux replied.

  On any other day, that might have driven me crazy. My curiosity would have jumped into overdrive, wanting to know who had died and how, but at the moment, I was far too concerned about Tommy.

  Devereaux excused himself and walked with the medical examiner around to the museum’s back yard. I stood there, feeling completely lost for a moment, trying to gather myself together. The panic that gripped me at the sight of the emergency vehicles had unraveled me. I needed to keep looking for Tommy, but now I wanted Brett’s company more than ever.

  Before I could phone Brett, I spotted his uncle, Sheriff Ray Georgeson, striding across the lawn from the direction of the backyard.

  “Marley?”

  He changed course and headed my way. He didn’t look all that pleased to see me. Most likely, he thought I was trying to meddle in his investigation. I couldn’t really blame him for assuming that was the case. I did have a history of getting involved in murder investigations.

  Was this a murder investigation? Or a natural or accidental death?

  I didn’t pursue those questions any further. I was still too worried about Tommy.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said quickly as Ray approached. “Tommy’s missing, and when I saw all the emergency vehicles, I panicked. Deputy Devereaux says this has nothing to do with Tommy.”

  “That’s right.” The suspicion in his eyes had morphed into concern. “This is Tommy Park you’re talking about?”

  When I nodded, he asked, “How long has he been missing?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. He was taking photos at the charity gala at the banquet hall last night. He left his house with his camera, but I don’t know if he ever made it to the gala. All I know is that his camera and phone aren’t at his house, and he didn’t show up for work this morning. He’s not answering his phone or replying to text messages.”

  “So he’s been missing”—Ray checked his watch—“about twelve to sixteen hours?”