Chapter 73: The half eaten pie 2 Ethan’s pov

continuation .....

At first I paid it no mind.

Then something about it felt familiar.

I looked again.

And immediately sat forward.

I knew that vehicle.

The realization hit me so abruptly that I almost laughed.

"No way."

I threw some cash onto the table, left a tip for the waitress, and headed outside.

The cold air struck me immediately.

Across the street, the SUV remained parked exactly where I had seen it.

I started toward it.

The engine started.

My eyes narrowed.

The vehicle pulled away.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

I broke into a jog.

The SUV turned the corner.

A minute later I was back in my car and following it through downtown traffic.

Whatever I had expected from the day, chasing a suspicious vehicle through Anderson Park hadn’t been part of it.

Traffic repeatedly separated us.

Red lights slowed everything down.

Several times I considered giving up entirely.

Then both vehicles stopped at the same intersection.

Finally.

I pulled over, climbed out, and walked directly toward the driver’s side window.

The glass remained tinted.

No movement.

I knocked twice.

Nothing.

Then I knocked again.

"I know somebody’s in there."

The window slowly lowered.

The moment it did, all the irritation drained out of me.

Because sitting behind the wheel was Raina.

She stared at me without the slightest hint of embarrassment.

"What exactly are you doing?"

I blinked.

For a moment I genuinely had no answer.

"What am I doing?"

"Yes."

Her expression remained completely unchanged.

"You chased me across half the city. I’d love to hear your explanation."

I rubbed a hand across my face.

"This conversation is not going the way I imagined."

"No?"

"Not particularly."

A horn sounded somewhere behind us.

Neither of us moved.

Raina continued watching me.

Not angry.

Not amused.

Just waiting.

Finally she sighed.

"You disappeared before sunrise."

The words were calm.

Too calm.

"I got a call."

"I know."

"You know?"

"I heard enough."

She looked away briefly before returning her attention to me.

"You looked upset when you left."

Something tightened in my chest.

Because beneath the irritation was something else.

Concern.

Real concern.

And suddenly I understood why she was here.

Not because she didn’t trust me.

Because she did.

Because she was worried.

The realization made it very difficult to stay annoyed.

"I wasn’t trying to worry you."

"No."

She nodded slightly.

"I know."

The light turned green.

A chorus of impatient horns erupted behind us.

Raina glanced toward the intersection.

"We should probably continue this somewhere that isn’t blocking traffic."

I couldn’t argue with that.

A few minutes later we were heading back toward Harrington together.

Writing

The drive back to Harrington passed in relative silence.

Not the uncomfortable kind, nor the easy silence that came from spending time with someone who required no effort to be around, but something that existed somewhere in between, shaped by unanswered questions and the lingering weight of a morning that had begun with the impossible and ended with disappointment.

Raina drove ahead of me for most of the journey.

Every now and then I caught sight of her SUV several cars up the road, its dark frame cutting through the winter traffic while my thoughts drifted back to the phone call.

The voice.

The address.

The certainty I’d felt when I heard the name.

The more I replayed it, the less certain I became.

By the time we reached her house, a headache had settled behind my eyes.

Raina let herself inside first.

I followed a few seconds later.

The house felt strangely quiet after the noise of the diner and the long drive home. Sunlight spilled through the large windows overlooking the backyard, casting pale reflections across the kitchen floor while somewhere upstairs the heating system hummed steadily against the winter cold.

Raina set her purse down on the kitchen island before turning toward me.

For a moment she simply stood there studying me.

Waiting.

I already knew that look.

She wasn’t going to let the subject go.

Not until she understood what had happened.

"Talk to me."

Her voice was calm.

Not demanding.

Not accusatory.

Just patient.

I pulled out one of the stools and sat down.

"There’s not much to tell."

One eyebrow lifted.

We both knew that wasn’t true.

I sighed.

"Someone called me last night claiming to be Felix."

"Claiming?"

The word didn’t escape her notice.

I leaned forward and rested my forearms against the counter.

"When I first heard the voice, I was convinced it was him."

The admission felt strange.

More strange than it should have.

"Now?"

I stared at the marble countertop for several seconds.

"Now I don’t know."

Raina remained quiet.

Allowing me room to think.

Allowing me room to speak.

It was one of the things I admired most about her.

She never rushed people into filling silence.

Eventually I continued.

"If it wasn’t Felix, then somebody knew enough about him to get my attention."

"And if it was Felix?"

I laughed softly.

The sound carried little humor.

"Then apparently he drove me an hour away to sit alone in a diner for three hours."

That finally earned the faintest smile from her.

Only for a second.

Then it vanished.

Because neither of us found the situation particularly funny.

"You really believed he might be alive."

It wasn’t a question.

I looked up.

"No."

The answer came automatically.

Too quickly.

Raina said nothing.

Just watched me.

And after a few seconds I found myself shaking my head.

"Okay, maybe I did."

The truth settled heavily between us.

"For a little while."

I leaned back in the chair.

"People don’t realize how difficult it is when somebody disappears."

My gaze drifted toward the windows.

"You never get answers. There’s no ending. No certainty. Just years of wondering."

The words surprised even me.

I hadn’t intended to say them aloud.

Raina’s expression softened slightly.

Not pity.

Never pity.

Understanding.

Which somehow felt worse.

"I can imagine."

No.

She probably could.

More than most people.

The thought crossed my mind briefly before disappearing.

For a few moments neither of us spoke.

The house remained quiet around us.

Peaceful.

Ordinary.

A sharp contrast to the chaos currently occupying my thoughts.

Finally Raina glanced toward the staircase.

"I should get ready."

I frowned.

"For the shoot?"

She nodded.

"Victor has already called twice."

That sounded like Victor.

"If I’m late, he’ll probably file a missing persons report."

"At least somebody would look for you."

A corner of her mouth lifted.

"That was terrible."

"It was."

I stood from the stool.

The heaviness that had followed me all morning remained, but it had lessened slightly.

Talking about it hadn’t solved anything.

It rarely did.

Still, it helped.

Raina stepped closer and adjusted the collar of my jacket.

A small gesture.

An absent-minded gesture.

The sort of thing she did without realizing it.

"You should get some sleep."

I looked down at her.

"That’s rich coming from you."

"I wasn’t the one sitting in a diner all morning."

"No."

A faint smile touched my lips.

"You were apparently stalking me."

That earned a look.

Not an amused look.

Not quite.

The look itself was enough.

I raised my hands in surrender.

"Fair."

Satisfied, she stepped back.

"I’ll be downstairs in twenty minutes."

I nodded.

"Take your time."

She turned and headed upstairs.

I watched her disappear around the corner before settling back into one of the stools.

The house grew quiet again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just empty.

My thoughts inevitably drifted back toward Felix.

Toward the diner.

Toward the voice.

The longer I sat there, the more frustrated I became.

Nothing about it made sense.

Whoever had called me had known exactly what button to press.

Exactly which name would guarantee I showed up.

The realization bothered me more than I cared to admit.

A few minutes later my phone vibrated against the countertop.

The sound immediately drew my attention.

My stomach tightened.

Instinct.

Nothing more.

Slowly, I reached for the device.

Unknown Number.

A familiar sense of unease settled over me.

I stared at the screen for several seconds before opening the message.

There was only one sentence.

Six words.

I hoped you liked the pie.

For a moment I simply sat there.

Reading the message.

Then reading it again.

The kitchen suddenly felt colder.

Because the significance hit me all at once.

The pie.

Not the coffee.

Not the diner.

The pie.

The half-eaten slice sitting on the table near the window.

The one I had ordered nearly three hours after arriving.

The one nobody should have known about.

A chill crawled slowly down my spine.

Someone had been watching.

Not watching from a distance.

Not guessing.

Watching.

Close enough to know where I sat.

Close enough to know what I ordered.

Close enough to know exactly how long I had stayed.

My grip tightened around the phone.

Upstairs I could hear faint movement as Raina got ready for work.

Normal sounds.

Ordinary sounds.

Yet suddenly they felt very far away.

Because the message changed everything.

This had never been about Felix.

Felix had been bait.

The diner had been bait.

The entire morning had been carefully orchestrated for a single purpose.

To prove a point.

To remind me that somewhere out there, hidden beyond my sight, someone was always watching.

And as I stared at the glowing screen in my hand, one thought settled heavily into my mind.

What exactly is going on?