The Lies That Bind

20: Scavenger Hunt

"Vincent," Cooper repeated stiffly. "Where is he?"

Calla's initial worries faded to bemused puzzlement. "Is that what you're so wound up about?"

"Yes."

She shrugged. "I don't know where he is. Why does it matter? Maybe he went downstairs."

Cooper shook his head, adamant. "We were just down there."

"Okay, then he's in the bathroom. Or maybe he's dead on the third floor—"

"That's not funny," he hissed, and she was surprised to hear real panic in his voice. "Just...stay here."

She frowned after him as he took off for the stairs, shoving people out of his way without any regard for their disgruntled murmurings. Stay here. Like hell she was just going to stand around while he made a fool of himself—

Someone tapped her shoulder before she could follow after him. "Hi," Natalie said, lifting a red solo cup in greeting.

Calla pasted on a quick smile. "Hey." It was hard not to notice the absence of a six-foot-six quarterback on her arm, especially after the scene Cooper had just caused. "Where'd Vincent run off to?"

She gestured to the windows, indicating the cold night beyond. "No idea. He said he had to step outside—"

Calla grabbed her arm, her earlier skepticism forgotten. "When was this?"

"Huh?" Natalie glanced down at her arm, caught off guard. "I don't know. Maybe ten minutes ago. Why?"

"Calla—" Cooper skidded to a halt, glancing between the two girls. His hair looked as if he'd been dragging his hands through it, over and over again. "What's up?"

"Vincent stepped outside," Calla intoned lifelessly. "Ten minutes ago."

They exchanged a significant look. Calla had mastered the art of arranging her features into a pleasant enough mask, but Cooper, who carried his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see, couldn't quite disguise the stark horror on his face. Natalie stared up at him, confusion giving way to fear. "I don't understand. What's wrong? What's going on?"

"Nothing," Calla assured her, shooting Cooper a warning look. "We'll be right back. Call us if Vincent turns up, alright?"

"But—" Whatever else Natalie might have said was lost in the crowd as Calla and Cooper hurried over to the stairs, their echoing steps and the throaty hum of music reverberating through the wall the only sounds in the stairwell.

"Calla, what if he's—" Cooper started.

Calla shushed him. "Not yet," she said, glancing at the group gathered in the kitchen. He trailed after her, brimming with a nervous energy she could feel, causing the hairs at the back of her neck to prickle.

"Cooper—" Calla warned once they were safely outside. But he either didn't hear her or, more likely, he didn't particularly care what she had to say, because he surged down the sidewalk without a backward glance, jogging blindly into the night.

She followed after him with a swift curse, heeled boots slamming into the concrete. "Cooper!" she called, easily matching his pace. Passerby edged out of their path, watching them hurry off into the night with curious eyes. "Maybe Natalie's right," she tried to reason, though the words sounded false to her own ears. "Vincent's probably right around the corner—"

"Not this corner," Cooper shot back, the streetlights overhead casting his eyes in shadow. They stopped at the next intersection, breathing hard. Beside them, a family of four waited on the light to turn, their takeout bags smelling faintly of Chinese. Calla's stomach growled.