Missing, Adam Nicholls [book recommendations website txt] 📗

Mason was discharged after leaving his statement and headed straight to Downadays Bar to meet Evie. It had been their favorite place to drink for years now, a quiet little spot in an even quieter location. The music was mediocre and the food ordinary, but the service was good and the drinks were cheap. What else mattered?

Evie was waiting for him when he pulled up. Her hair was down, and her eyes had dark bags beneath them. She definitely needed sleep.

“Took your time,” she said.

“I had some things to do,” Mason retorted, stalking across the lot.

“Some things?”

“Yeah, some things.”

The moment he opened the door, they were assaulted by blaring youthful music. It was awful—some high-pitched guy singing about how a woman had let him down—but at least it had an upbeat rhythm. They took a seat at the bar, Mason dumping a file in front of him and Evie removing her purse from her shoulder.

“So, did you talk to the teacher?” Mason asked, signaling for two beers.

“Dead end. How’d things go at the crime scene?”

“Actually, we found a body.”

“Well, duh.”

“No, I mean we found another body. A hidden one.” Mason shoved the file her way.

Evie flipped it open and looked at the picture of a man. “You got an ID already?”

“Sure did. His wife is on her way back from New York right now. I’m collecting her from the airport tomorrow morning. I’ll weave in my interview during the journey.”

“That’s how I know you’re my brother,” Evie said, looking up with a grin.

Two bottles of beer appeared in front of them, and Mason handed over some cash. “You’re welcome to publish that. A gift, from me to you.”

Evie beamed. “You’re sure?”

Mason nodded.

“Mase…”

“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” He took a long slug of his beer.

“Well then, Mason, did you talk to Sandra yet?”

“No, and I have no intention to.”

Evie closed the file and twisted in her chair to look at him. “Listen, I won’t tell you what to do. But I will say that if I were you, I would make my feelings known. Nothing aggressive, just one adult to another. At least then I’d be able to see Amy.”

Mason drank the rest of his beer, trying not to think about his daughter. The last thing he needed right now was to be reminded of his family—or lack thereof.

“Hey, sweetness.” A man appeared to Evie’s right side. He was scruffy. Stocky, but not tall. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was far too greasy to go unnoticed. “How ’bout I buy you a drink or two, and then you can come back to my place?”

Mason just stared at him.

“No, thank you,” Evie said.

“Aw, come on. You don’t gotta be like that,” the drunk said, looking her up and down.

Evie turned in her chair. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m here to discuss work with my brother. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back to it.”

Just as she was turning back, he grabbed her wrist.

Mason shot to his feet and stepped around Evie, grabbing at the man’s coat and pulling him forward. He was lighter than Mason had expected. “Keep your dirty little mitts to yourself.”

The drunk gawped at him, obviously intimidated. After being silenced for a few seconds, he cleared his throat. “Whatever. Bitch probably got crabs anyway.”

Mason shrugged him off and watched him leave.

“Some people, huh?” Evie laughed.

“It’s not funny. People like that don’t know what no means.”

“Relax. He’s not the first creep to try it on with me.”

Over the next hour or so, they discussed the case and caught up on the day’s events, and when done Mason tipped the bartender as they headed for the door. They were making their way to the Mustang when Mason heard footsteps behind him.

But he was a second too late.

“Yo, big guy.” It was the slurring drunk, and he was swinging an iron pole.

Mason turned and raised his wrist in time to block it, but it rattled his arm and he cried out in agony. There were more of them this time. Three, it seemed, in the haze of adrenaline. One of them grabbed at Evie, and she wriggled and squirmed.

Mason’s arm was on fire with pain as he saw a lazy haymaker coming his way. He ducked, dropped to a knee, and punched as hard as he could into the guy’s balls. Mason knew it was a temporary stun at best, so he shot back to his feet, grabbed the man’s head, and drove his knee upward into the man’s nose.

The drunk was too stunned to react and fell onto his back with a crippled moan. One of the other thugs stepped forward. Mason glanced right to ensure Evie hadn’t been hurt.

But she was doing better than he was.

She was holding her knife in a steady fist and even stood in the stance Mason had taught her. She and the assailant were both poised, one ready to attack, the other preparing to defend, and both were figuring out which was which.

The second guy went for Mason, landing a sucker punch on his eye. It rocked him, but not enough to bring him down. After all, Mason had more than a few inches on him. Assessing the guy’s weight, Mason stomped forward and shot a left jab at the man’s rib cage, then quickly lifted him by his throat with his right hand. He came off the ground with ease, and Mason brought him down even easier.

There was an audible crunch when his spine hit the ground.

Evie.

Mason turned to his sister, who was being closed in on. Unprepared to let his sister get hurt, he dashed forward and grabbed the guy, pinning him against the Mustang. He hadn’t realized his friends had been taken down, because when he saw them he stopped resisting and let go of Mason’s arms.

“You picked the wrong day to fuck with us,” Mason hissed through gritted teeth. “You give me one goddamn reason why I shouldn’t rip your head off right now.”

“Mason,”