Chapter 161

#Chapter 161 – Mind to Mind Victor stays in Alvin’s room that night. At some point, Burton had brought them up bowls of soup and rich crusty bread, but Victor hadn’t eaten his. He was pleased, though, to see that Alvin still had an appetite.

The boy had been hungry and clearly was not nearly so devastated as Victor was. Victor couldn’t really understand why – Alvin was just a six year old kid who had just lost, apparently, his mother and his brother. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

They watched some television passively, Victor letting Alvin pick whatever he wanted. Only Alvin watched, really. Victor, instead, watched his son.

“Are you okay, kid?” Victor had asked, reaching out a hand to palm the back of Alvin’s head, stroking his soft dark hair.

Alvin had turned to him with a shrug. “I’m sad,” he said, considering it. “But it will be okay.”

Victor had frowned at him, confused. He had no such confidence – in fact, everything felt absolutely the opposite of okay right now. Everything felt deeply, deeply doomed.

“What do you mean?” Victor asked.

Alvin just shrugged again, turning his attention back to the television. “Don’t worry, dad,” he had said, leaning back into his pillows and staring at the screen. “Ian and I have a plan.”

Victor had laughed a little at this. It’s not that he didn’t take Alvin seriously – it’s just very sweet that his two little boys had a plan in action. God, how were they only six?

And it’s not that he didn’t believe that his sons really did have a plan – but this problem was so much more complicated and big than Alvin or Ian really knew or could understand. There’s no way they could have a real solution. Still, if it brought Alvin comfort to believe that things were under control, then Victor wasn’t going to disturb his peace.

“Thanks, kid,” Victor had said, leaning back against the pillows himself. “I knew I could always count on you.”

Alvin nodded lightly as his dad closed his eyes to rest, just for a minute…

It’s dawn when Victor wakes up, a curse on his lips. s**t, s**t. He hadn’t meant to sleep that long –

there were things that he needed to do.

Blinking, Victor looks around to see that Alvin is curled up next to him, his head pillowed on Victor’s arm. Victor takes a minute to smile, considering his son’s face, and then slowly begins to pull his arm away, doing his best to make sure Alvin’s head has a soft landing on a pillow.

Alvin stirs, but doesn’t awaken.

Victor sits up, yawning, and grabs his phone from the table next to him. About a million messages are there from his Beta teams, all reporting, giving reconnaissance about Amelia’s whereabouts, information about insurance on the house…

He skips through them all, looking…

But no. No messages from Evelyn. s**t.

He opens their text thread and sends a brief one to her. Anything, really, to get in touch.

Victor: Evelyn?

He waits a few moments before the phone beeps back a report.

Undeliverable.

s**t. s**t. What had she done?

Victor swipes through his phone to the tracking app that he and Evelyn had added to their plan through mutual agreement months ago, after the stalker had broken into their house. It had been a safety measure, but now, could it tell him where she went?

He clicks into it, selecting Evelyn’s phone. The app whirrs for a moment, but then it, too, returns disappointing results.

No location. Track latest updated location?

Victor curses internally and then selects Yes.

The phone zooms in on a map, showing a gas station about an hour east of the cottage. That must have been where she changed the settings on her phone, maybe picked up a new sim card. He checked the timestamp on the phone. Yesterday – early. s**t.

She could be anywhere by now.

Victor sighs, putting his head in his hands, wondering about his next steps. He’d have to get his Betas on it – his data team pulling any and all records of Evelyn’s personal data. Maybe she’d used a credit card somewhere, or checked her email – there were a thousand ways they could find her –

But he also knows she’s aware of all that. She disappeared before, she’s no amateur.

Quickly, he checks her bank account to see that she’s taken out thousands of dollars in cash. Part of him is glad that she’s got the funds but damnit. Cash helps you disappear.

Alvin stirs next to him and Victor turns to look at him, sorry if, somehow, he’s woken him.

“Daddy?” Alvin says, rubbing his eyes. “Is it time to get up?”

“If you want it to be,” Victor says. “But you should sleep more, if you’re tired.”

“If you’re up, I’m up,” Alvin says, smiling at him and sitting up in the bed. “Can we have breakfast?”

“Sure,” says Victor, standing up and putting out a hand for Alvin. “Pancakes, or cereal?”

Alvin considers for a minute as they head out the door. “Are you cooking?” He asks. “Or Burton?”

Victor smirks down at him. “Just me today, probably. Burton’s still asleep, I’m sure.”

Alvin makes a subtle little disappointed face. “Cereal, then.”

Victor laughs at this, swooping down and picking up his son, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of grain. “Youuu traitor,” he growls and Alvin shrieks with laughter as Victor bounces down the stairs, jiggling the little boy as he goes.

It’s a little thing – and Victor honestly didn’t know he’d have the urge or the energy to play after such a horrible day yesterday, but the little boy’s laughter goes right to his heart, warming it. Damnit, but at this moment he’s so grateful for his son.

Luckily for Alvin, Burton is indeed awake.

“Sir,” Burton says, dressed in his full livery.

“Burton!,” Victor says, smiling as he puts Alvin back on his feet. “What are you doing up so early?”

Burton just blinks at him a little. “It is my job to be up when you are up.”

“But how did you know?” Victor asks, putting his hands into his pajama pockets.

“It is my job to know,” Burton says, smiling cryptically. Then he turns his attention to Alvin. “And is the young master ready for his breakfast?”

“Yes.” Alvin says decisively, his hands on his hips. “I will have the pancakes, please.”

Burton stands up very straight then, a very tiny sneer just barely on his face. “I’m afraid pancakes are not on the menu,” he says. “I will make you crepes.”

Alvin shrugs, not really caring, and goes to sit at the table. Burton looks at Victor inquisitively and Victor nods, communicating that he, too, will have the crepes.

As Victor sits at the table, Rafe and Bridgette come down the stairs. When she sees him, Bridgette hurries her pace and comes quickly to the table, wrapping her arms around Victor from behind. Victor blinks in surprise – he and Bridgette weren’t very close. He hadn’t realized they were at the hugging stage of their relationship.

“Poor baby,” she croons, giving him an extra little squeeze before sitting down next to him at the table.

“How are you doing, are you okay?”

Rafe sits down next to Alvin, looking at Victor and waiting for an answer. Victor looks between them, confused.

“Did you…” Victor says quietly, frowning a little as he looks between them, “did you sleep in me and Evelyn’s bed?”

Rafe smirks and shrugs. “Well, you weren’t using it.”

Victor opens his mouth to say that he got them a hotel room for a reason and ask what the hell they were doing here, but Bridgette interrupts.

“Have you had any word from her?” she asks, her eyes wide.

Victor closes his mouth and shakes his head no, looking down at the table, not really wanting to have this conversation.

“And you’ve tracked her phone?” Rafe asks, accepting a pitcher of orange juice and four glasses from Burton. Rafe fills the glasses and passes them around the table.

“Of course,” Victor says, glaring at his brother as he accepts the glass. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?”

Rafe just shrugs. “In grief, one can forget the most basic things. So, no trace of her?”

Victor just shakes his head no, clenching his teeth in frustration.

Alvin looks between the three adults sitting at the table as he takes a sip from his orange juice. “Well,”

he says, cheerfully. “I know where she is.”

Victor blinks, shocked, and just stares at him. “What?”

Alvin nods eagerly and smiles at them all.

“How…how do you know?” Victor says, his whole body suddenly tense.

Alvin taps his temple with his finger. “Ian told me.”

“Ian called you?” Rafe asks, confused.

“No,” Alvin says, rolling his eyes at Rafe. “Ian told me. In our minds.” He squints his eyes a little, concentrating hard. “It’s hard to tell, because it’s mostly pictures, this far away.” He concentrates harder. “But they’re at a beach…Rock something? Rock…”

“Rockport?” Bridgette offers, saying the name of a tourist town about five hours south.

“Yes!” Alvin says, throwing up his hands in celebration. “That’s it!”

As one, all of the adults in the room stare silently at Alvin.

When he realizes he’s the only one celebrating, he slowly lowers his hands and looks around at each of them. “What?” he asks. “Did I do something wrong?”