“Do you know where he is or not?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Jake admitted slowly.
“So, where is he?”
Silence.
“Guys.”
Uneasy looks and more silence.
I heard a door open behind me. “Xander.”
I turned to see Cait standing in the doorway to her office. “What?”
“Come in,” she said. “You boys keep it down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the four of them called back.
“Cait,” I began, but she gave me a look. “Fine.”
I went into her office, closed the door, and was quickly reminded why she came to visit me and not the other way around. Her office was cramped, and I could barely squeeze into the small chair in the corner as she took a seat at her desk, drawing out another bottle.
“I was going to give this to you for your birthday on my next visit, but this seems like as good a time as any,” she said, opening it and putting a glass down to fill and hand to me.
“Jesus, did he die?” I asked, heart skipping at the possibility. “Like Christ, did he go for a walk and break his skull on a rock or something?”
“No, he didn’t,” she began, and shook her head. “I forgot how you can freak out sometimes.”
“I’m not freaking out, but all of you are tempting me to,” I said with a glare. “What the fuck?”
“I’m not going to go into too much because I want to respect Colin,” she said slowly. “But he was…he was clearly not doing well after he left your cabin.”
“What? Why?”
“He didn’t say, but I think the reappearance of Mona certainly didn’t help.”
“Which is why I want to talk to him.”
“Well, he doesn’t want to talk to you…or anyone for that matter,” she said, pouring herself a small bit of the whiskey and sighing. “He looked like a kicked puppy, but he was extremely sure that he didn’t want anyone bothering him. And don’t even say it, because yes, I clarified that meant you too. He wants to be alone.”
“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head. “If I could talk to him…since when the fuck doesn’t he want to talk? He always wants to talk, that’s all he does half the fucking time!”
“How long has this thing between you and him been going on?”
“What?”
“Don’t play stupid; that’s everyone else’s job, remember?”
I glared at her. “Does it matter?”
“I think it does…to him,” she said thoughtfully, swirling her small whiskey around in the glass. “Does it matter to you?”
I frowned, not sure what she was asking…or maybe not willing to admit it to her.
“I think maybe you should give that some thought,” she said seriously. “Because I’ve known you for a long time. You’re not a heartless man, but you can be a dense, thoughtless one sometimes. To the point of stepping on other people.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.