“AND WHAT DO you want?”

Jason, fidgeting and playing with his phone, sounded hostile and belligerent. Ben looked up from a bunch of files spread out on the reception desk, and his heart skipped a beat. There, a few feet from the desk, stood Donnie, looking at Jason with narrowed eyes. Worried that the two men would start in on each other at any moment, Ben stepped between them.

“Mr. Saunders,” he said, fixing Donnie with a look that was both warning and apology. “How can we help?”

There was a flicker of hurt in Donnie’s eyes, then resignation. It gave Ben a stab to see it. He would have to explain to Donnie later that, for the time being, they couldn’t let on what had happened between them. The last thing Ben needed right now was gossip at work.

“Officer Griers,” Donnie said. There was a tremor in his voice. “My brother...he disappeared.” A shadow crossed his face, and Donnie lowered his eyes, staring at his feet.

Ben pressed his lips together hard, trying his best not to show exasperation. Several times, he had tried to raise the topic of Floyd’s disappearance with Donnie while he had been at the Saunders’s house. He’d been so angry with a man he didn’t know as he watched Donnie struggle to get up out of bed, holding his ribs and groaning. But Donnie’s gaze had slid off him then, and those shutters had come down. After a few attempts, Ben had given up.

So why had Donnie come to the station? He’d refused to tell Ben what was going on in private, but was willing to make a scene here?

Get a grip. This isn’t about you. It’s not about what’s happening between you two. The disappearance of his brother was unsettling for Donnie, and if he wasn’t thinking clearly right now, then Ben shouldn’t blame him for it. The worry about Floyd had become too much to bear alone, which was understandable. Ben would have to be gentle.

He appraised Donnie. He still looked unwell, even fragile, and very confused. Ben turned and motioned at him. “Come this way. I’ll take down the details.”

He led the way into the incidence room and over to his desk, where he pulled a chair over for Donnie. Then Ben tapped his computer to wake it from sleep mode, all the while ignoring Jason who had trailed them and now sat down at his desk opposite, his eyes flitting from Donnie’s bruised face to Ben and back again.

“Right, then.” Ben looked at Donnie. “Since when has...your brother been missing?” He caught himself before saying Floyd’s name, which he shouldn’t yet know—or the answer to most of the questions he would have to ask.

“Since last Sunday.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“No.”

“Has he been in touch this week?” Donnie shook his head.

“Is this normal, for your brother to go off the grid?”

“He’s never done it before. He tells me where he goes.”

Ben waited with the next question until he was sure that he had Donnie’s attention.

When Ben didn’t speak, Donnie looked at him at last. His eyes were full of misery, and Ben could see the exhaustion in them. This had to be the first time Donnie had left the house this week, and the short drive had clearly exhausted him.

I’m real sorry, man. Ben tried to put this into his gaze. “Did something unusual happen Sunday night?”

“We...” Donnie swallowed, his hand pressing into his ribs. “We had a fight.”

Sudden anger flared in Ben. A fight, my ass, he thought with venom. He beat you to a pulp, and you didn’t even fight back. Ben had wondered about that the whole time he’d spent with Donnie. He had seen no marks on Donnie’s hands or arms that would indicate that he had defended himself, or even tried to stop Floyd. But that topic, and why Floyd had turned on Donnie in the first place, had only been met with silence then, so Ben didn’t ask again now, praying that Jason wouldn’t second-guess him on that point later.

Instead, he took down Floyd’s vital data—name, age, address, occupation (Not currently employed)—and asked Donnie a few more questions about Floyd’s acquaintances and usual habits. Nothing useful came to light.

“Have you got a recent photo of your brother?”

Donnie reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an old hunting license. It had expired over four years ago. “Only this.”

Ben studied the picture. It showed a man in his mid-forties, according to the date of birth, but he looked ten years older than that. Life had not been kind to Floyd Saunders.

“All right if I keep this?”

“Sure.” Donnie shrugged.

Ben clipped the license to the file he had just started, then faced Donnie again and fixed him with a level gaze. He had to be the cop now and not let his emotions show, but it wasn’t easy.

“Mr. Saunders, we will look into your brother’s disappearance. But I have to tell you this: A man in Floyd’s...situation, it’s likely he doesn’t want to be found.”

Donnie’s eyes were so sad Ben had to look away for a moment. “I know,” Donnie said in his quiet voice. “Just...try?”

Ben steeled himself and nodded. “Of course we will. We’ll check all the hospitals.” At that, Donnie’s expression turned dark with fear. Ben frowned. Surely the other man must have known that, unless Floyd had decided to disappear on purpose, the most likely scenario was an accident. Ben was glad he hadn’t mentioned morgues.

He felt Jason’s curious eyes on them and pressed on. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help us track Floyd down? Anything that might make him memorable?”

An aura of furtiveness and fear seemed to emanate from Donnie, but then he just shook his head. Ben was at the end of his tether now. What was Donnie not telling him? Something was definitely off here.

But he merely said, “All right. We’ll be in touch if we hear anything.”

For a moment, Donnie didn’t move, just chewed the inside of his mouth, his expression one of desperation. Then he got up with a mumbled thanks and left.

Jason watched Donnie walk from the incidence room, then turned to Ben, leering. “A hundred bucks.”

Ben forced his gaze away from Donnie’s retreating back and looked at his partner. “What?”

“A hundred bucks says he put on that show for us. Guy knows where his brother is. We should go dig up his yard right now, not waste tax dollars on looking for another useless bastard.”

Ben glared at Jason. When had his partner become so callous? Or maybe Jason had always been like this, but it had never hit so close to home for Ben. “Do your paperwork, Jason, before the captain gives you another official warning.” Jason often was the last one in the office, cursing the mountains of files on his desk he somehow never managed to get ahead of. He scowled at Ben but then pulled a stack of reports toward him without a word.

Ben finished off the missing person’s report and went to scan the old photo of Floyd to add it to the electronic file. When he came back to his desk from the office scanner, his phone flashed with a new message. Ben tapped the little screen.

Sorry, Donnie’s message read.

Ben sent off the electronic report to the central incidence bank, from which the grunt work would be delegated to more junior officers. Then he took his phone and walked out into the parking lot, to find a secluded spot off to one side of the station building. There he dialed Donnie’s number.

“Ben.” There was the sound of an engine in the background on Donnie’s end.

“No driving and talking on the phone,” Ben said before he could stop himself. Muffled sounds of brakes that needed checking, then a sudden silence as the engine cut off.

“I stopped.” Donnie sounded exhausted.

Ben rubbed his eyes, fighting the urge to get into his car and go after Donnie.

“Listen—”

But Donnie interrupted him. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t just have come like this. It’s just, I...” He broke off.

Ben gave a sigh. “I get it. You’re worried about your brother. Never mind what he did. Kin is still kin. You did the right thing to come in.”

There was silence at the other end, then, “‘I’m scared, Ben.”

“Of Floyd coming back?”

“Yeah...and him not coming back, as well. It’s stupid—”

“No, it’s not stupid.” Ben had a sudden longing to hold Donnie tight and take away some of this despondency that was so hard to bear. But, right now, that just wasn’t possible. “Listen, I got to take Laura tonight, and all day tomorrow. But I can come to you Monday?”

“I’m going back to the daycare Monday. Come to meeting? You really should, you know. You haven’t been all week.”

Ben didn’t think Donnie was ready yet to go back to work with the little ones. He hadn’t looked at all well just now, and the kids would take no heed of broken ribs. But he didn’t say anything. Donnie was a grown man. He didn’t need lecturing. And Ben was touched that Donnie worried about him missing the AA meetings.

“All right, I’ll be there Monday. Go home and rest now, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Thanks, Ben, for everything.”

“My pleasure. Speak later.”

“Bye, Ben.”

Ben hung up, staring across the parking lot, unseeing. There was something Donnie wasn’t telling him about Floyd. It had to be important, or it wouldn’t scare Donnie so. Ben hated the fact that he had no idea how he could get at the truth without making Donnie even more miserable.