Paying The Piper - 23. Chapter 23

Quent decided to follow the same road out of town that Cale would’ve taken to come home the night before. As he drove, he made phone calls. First, he tried Cale’s cell. Elizabeth had said he wasn’t answering, but she was also a brainless twit. Best to double-check her efforts.

Cale didn’t answer. The phone rang four times and went to voicemail. Quent opted to leave a message in case Cale checked it. "Where the fuck are you?" he snapped into the phone. Then he hung up. A verbally economic message, but it got the point across.

After that, he started calling the hospitals. It didn’t take long. There were only three between the city and Farther's Run. None of them had admitted either Cale or a John Doe matching his description. He was about to call Cale’s secretary when a flash on the side of the road caught his attention.

He swerved to the shoulder and hit the brakes. Cale’s Mercedes was sitting nearly below his line of sight, sunk into a ditch. It was sheer luck he had seen it. He got out of his car and slid down the tiny hill. He reached the driver’s window and peered in. Cale wasn't inside.

Quent let out the breath he'd been holding and raised a shaky hand to his temple. He was going to kill that little imbecile for scaring him. He noticed Cale’s suit coat and cell phone on the passenger seat. From where he stood, he saw that the LCD on the phone displayed six missed calls.

Quent straightened up and looked around. Instantly, his stomach lurched into his throat. In his haste to get to the bottom of the ditch, he hadn’t noticed where the car had gone off the road. Last night, in the dark and the rain, Cale wouldn’t have seen either.

Cale’s car was perched ten feet from the top of a steep ravine. From experience, Quent knew this particular drop to be exactly 187 feet. He knew that because in the past ten years, he had scraped three reckless teenagers and their fancy sports cars off the bottom of it. It was the most dangerous stretch of road in the county.

Quent felt queasy. He blamed it on the lack of coffee, refusing to admit how scared for Cale he was. He turned to climb back to his car. When he circled around, however, something else caught his eye. The rear bumper of Cale’s car was smashed in. He bent down to examine the damage.

It didn’t take a genius to see Cale had been hit twice. Hard. A chill stole over him. He stood up and turned in a circle. What had happened? And where was that damn idiot boy?

**********

He stopped at the first house down the road. As usual, his abysmal luck ensured that it was someone he hated. Statistically, however, that wasn‘t surprising. He hated nine tenths of the people who lived along this road. Still, Stahl was worse than most.

He pulled up in front of the house, and after considering his options, started toward the garage. If Cale had made it this far, he would've gone to Marcus. Like a moth to a flame. He started to climb the steps.

"Quent?"

Quent spun around to see Stahl stepping out of a side door to the garage. Jim closed the door quickly behind him and smiled. Quent sneered back.

"What are you hiding in there, Stahl?"

Jim’s hand twitched on the door handle. "The fruits of my labor, Quent. A man’s got to have a hobby."

"What a ridiculous notion. It sounds like something you would have counseled those misguided school children to pursue."

Stahl gave a half smile. "I encouraged it, yes." He made a loose gesture toward the door. "It’s relaxing and takes my mind off the numbers and figures. The daily grind, if you know what I mean."

"I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean – nor do I care."

Stahl sighed. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"To nothing. I’m here to see Marcus."

Quent resumed trudging up the stairs. Jim lingered. "Are you sure it’s not something I can help you with?" he called.

"I highly doubt it. Unless you’ve seen Cale."

"Cale’s missing?"

Quent stopped climbing and turned around. "I didn’t say that."

Jim shrugged, unconcerned. "You implied it."

Quent stared hard at Jim. Jim looked back with a baffled look. "Quent? Is everything all right? Is Cale all right?"

Quent didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back around and resumed his climb to the second floor apartment. Behind him, Stahl sighed and headed back to his house, mumbling under his breath.

**********

A loud banging woke Drew. Responding without thinking, he tried to jump from the bed. When that didn’t work, he blearily registered the fact that he couldn’t move because he was wrapped securely around Cale. Who, in turn, was wrapped around him. The sheets, the third set they'd been through, were twisted around the both of them.

Cale made a sleepy sound and snuggled closer. Drew gave serious thought to ignoring the door.

"Marcus! Get up! We have a situation."

Or not. He untangled himself from Cale, who protested with a groan and rolled over, taking the sheet with him. Freed from his cotton prison, Drew jerked his jeans on and went to greet Quent.

Drew opened the door and gave a mocking bow as Quent pushed his way inside. "You better have coffee, Marcus." He stalked into the kitchen.

Drew followed. "I believe I do."

"We have a problem."

"Relax. I just said that I had coffee."

Quent slammed the coffee canister down and shot Drew a deadly glare. Drew yawned. "Let me do that," he said, taking the coffee from Quent. "You brew really shitty coffee." He muscled Quent away from the machine and began scooping beans into the grinder.

Quent crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter. "Cale’s missing."

"No, he’s not."

Quent narrowed his eyes. Drew ground the beans. A loud whirring filled the air.

"He’s here," Drew said when the grinder shut off.

Quent looked around. "Where?"

Drew glanced over his shoulder. "In my bed." He waited while Quent processed that information. After a moment, Drew grinned. "I do believe I’ve managed to shock you speechless."

Quent didn’t move. "I do believe you might be right."

Drew smiled and added water to the coffee pot. "Why, I wonder? It’s not like you didn’t know."

Quent shook himself from his daze. "I’m simply shocked the two of you were able to find the bed under that pile of angst you created." Drew’s smile broadened but he didn’t comment. "However, I must insist that I see him now."

"Why?"

"So I can shoot him."

Drew pressed the ‘on’ button and turned around. "Would this have anything to do with his car trouble?"

Quent blinked. His blood pressure skyrocketed. "Car trouble?" he repeated though clenched teeth.

Quent’s sudden mood swing didn’t go unnoticed. Drew licked his lips. "I’ll just…go and get him."

"No need."

Both Drew and Quent swung toward the voice. Cale stood in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing a pair of Drew’s jeans. "Good morning, Quent." His eyes moved to Drew and he smiled. "Hi," he said.

Drew smiled back. "Hi."

"For Christ’s sake," Quent groaned.

**********

"You’re saying someone tried to run me off the road. On purpose?"

Quent hissed in annoyance. "Isn’t that what it seemed like to you?"

Cale shrugged. He wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. "I didn’t construe it that way at the time."

Drew came to stand behind Cale’s chair. He laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think we should go take a look."

Quent tried desperately to hold his tongue. He failed. "What an excellent idea, Marcus. Examine the evidence. You’re full of novel concepts after a tumble, aren’t you?"

Cale shot him a reproachful look, and Quent bit his tongue. Drew caught the exchange and grinned. When he winked, Quent’s stomach sank. His world was over, he realized.

Cale was going to make him be nice to Marcus.