White Space Season 1

punch him. Brady forced himself to calm down before he said, or did, something he regretted.
    “I’ll call the parents, and if everything checks out, the case is closed.”
    “Everything will check out,” Kaiser said, then rolled up the window and drove away.
    Brady went back inside the house to find Molly standing on the other side of the door in her pajamas, worry haunting her face.
    Oh God. Why couldn’t she have just stayed in bed until noon like she usually does?
    “What was that all about?”
    “Just work stuff,” Brady said, closing the door and locking the bolt.
    “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice still calm, but with a blush of hysteria brewing just under the surface.
    “Nothing you need to worry about, dear,” Brady said as his words could detour the inevitable.
    “Why aren’t you telling me? Is it something about Aidan?” Molly’s voice rose five octaves; her eyes were wild.
    “Why would it be about Aidan?” Brady asked as if logic would unlatch the crazy in her head.
    “I dunno,” she said, looking over at her son with eyes like a mother with a terminally ill child. “Then what’s wrong?”
    Brady kept his voice calm, like always, and put his hands on her shoulders, gently trying to talk her down, “Some kids ran off yesterday, but Mr. Kaiser just told me they were found, safe and sound.”
    “What do you mean ran away ? They were missing?”
    Oh God, not this. Not now. Don’t bring up Christina. Not now.
    “Nobody was missing . It was a couple of kids, a boyfriend and girlfriend, just sneaking off for some quick nookie somewhere. That’s all.”
    “Are you sure?” she said, her eyes as wide as they were worried, but seemingly open to his offer of good news.
    “Yes, I’m sure.”
    “And everything is okay?” she asked.
    “Yes, I swear,” he said. “Want some breakfast? We’re having Corn Flakes, but I can make you eggs and turkey bacon if you like.”
    “I’d like that very much,” she said, then hugged him as if he had just given her the news that their son was safe.
    And that Christina had been found.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Jon Conway

    Saturday morning…

    Jon’s head was a grinding transmission.
    Even with practice, that was a helluva lot of alcohol. Man was not made to consume so much.
    He felt the sun outside, but wasn’t ready to open his eyes to the ocean. He turned, pulling the pillow closer to his body, hugging it tighter and trying to piece together the previous evening.
    His pillow felt weird. When did he get home?
    Warren was the first tangible thought to crystallize in his mind.
    Jon had been ready to tear that fucker in two, but Warren managed to beat the holy heaping shit from inside him with a sentence. He left Conway Gardens without another goddamned word.
    Jon had left the house so angry, he was actually laughing. And had laughed himself silly, all the way to … Cassidy’s.
    Jon opened his eyes, then turned over. He was in Cassidy’s room, but her bed was empty.
    Jon’s feet hit the carpet. He crossed the room and grabbed his jeans from the floor. His right foot was dipping into his pant’s leg when Cassidy entered the room with two cups of steaming coffee.
    “Well, good morning,” she said. “Would you like some coffee? It’s probably not good enough for the Duke of Fancy Pants like all the ritzy shit, picked by a free range Brazilian migrant worker, like you’re used to. But I’m sure it will do for now.”
    Jon took the cup and looked inside, an eyebrow raised in mock suspicion. “This coffee looks lighter than my white ass,” he said. “How much milk is in here? Good coffee shouldn’t need more than a splash.”
    “It is just a splash,” Cassidy said, smiling.
    Jon brought the mug to his lips and sipped, then soured his face as though his throat was suddenly soaked in cat piss.
    Cassidy’s face flooded with hurt.
    Jon started to laugh. “Just kidding,” he said. “It’s perfect. Just a little too hot. Could probably use some more milk,” he said with a wink. “I’m going to set it on the nightstand to cool while you remind me what in the hell happened last night.”
    Jon smiled, set the coffee on the nightstand, then found her eyes and held them. He patted the mattress beside him. Cassidy stepped tentatively toward the edge of the bed, then sat beside him. A few minutes of silence stretched all the way from awkward to uncertain, until Cassidy finally cracked the quiet between them, skipping the part about