Mother's Milk by Charles Atkins

kid.’
    â€˜Fine,’ she said, trying to use humor to battle her mounting fear. ‘I’ll stay in my office and hide under my desk.’ But her every thought triggered fresh waves of jitters. She’d put herself in harm’s way, albeit for the best of reasons, Jerod could have gotten shot … or someone else, and she had a baby to take care of, and she’d pissed off Janice more than she’d ever done, and it was clear that snaky Hugh was lobbying for her job, and at the rate she was going he’d probably get it too.
    â€˜Good, then I’ll know where to find you.’

FIVE
    A t twenty-five, Chase Strand, a Department of Family and Youth Services social worker, could have been a model in the magazines to which he was addicted. Sitting in his small corner office that smelled of citrus zest, he glared at the cover of
Men’s Vogue
. Normally, he’d spend an enjoyable half-hour flipping pages while comparing his looks to those of the men in the glossy ads for Prada, Hugo Boss, Calvin Klein, Abercrombie’s, and all the rest, commenting aloud, ‘He’s pretty good looking,’ ‘I’m better looking than him,’ ‘I’m much better looking than him,’ ‘How does that guy even get work?’ And then he’d think through the possible surgical solutions that might improve the model’s looks, a rhinoplasty, perhaps a chin implant. He’d evaluate the bodies of the underwear models and compare their features to his perfect abs, chest, shoulders, and legs, toned by daily workouts in his state-of-the-art home gym. He’d peer intently at each page as though his gaze could melt through the airbrushing, trying to see who’d had calf or pec implants.
    But not now. As he waited for his next pathetic excuse for a human being client, he was worried; his thoughts were dark; and he was furious, shit was coming undone, and he hated this feeling of things being out of his control. Making certain his door was locked, he reached into his Gucci briefcase and pulled out a prepaid and untraceable cell phone. He dialed Marky, and as soon as the phone picked up, laid in to him. ‘Where is he?’
    â€˜He was running,’ Marky said, sounding winded. ‘He knew I was looking for him.’
    â€˜Why would he think that?’ Chase pushed. ‘Why was he even with those two? You should have made sure they were alone.’
    â€˜Chase, I don’t know what Jerod was doing there. He’s been hanging around them, doing stuff for them … I think he was into that girl Carly. He was spouting some sort of bullshit about her being kidnapped. It didn’t make any sense.’
    Chase felt rage. ‘Don’t fuck with me, Marky! Where is he?’
    â€˜I don’t know, I’ve been looking everywhere for him. I swear I’ll find him.’
    â€˜You better, and take care of him.’
    Chase wanted to hit something, or someone. Every word from Marky reeked of carelessness and stupidity, but he had to pull it back. ‘OK, Marky, I know Bobby had one of the regular cells, and I know you didn’t retrieve it. It’s either with the body or somehow that nutcase got his hands on it. There’s also one missing from my loft; it’s not meant to go with the family kids, it’s for something else. Do you know anything about it? There were half a dozen on the living-room table next to the leather sofa. When I looked there were only five. Did you take one?’
    â€˜Oh shit! I thought that was one of the ones I could take. I thought you’d gotten new phones, and I needed one …’
    â€˜So you have it?’
    â€˜No, oh shit.’
    â€˜Who has it?’
    â€˜I’m so sorry, Chase, please don’t be mad … I gave it to Bobby; he said his wasn’t working. It was right before … I didn’t want him to be suspicious.’
    Chase looked down at his perfectly manicured nails