The lost pieces of Tad surrounded me. His scent, the feel of his callused hand on me, his dark demands, the sound of his step thudding down the hall at night to take a piss.
I did not want to believe Taylor’s story, yet he had stirred in me a sliver of doubt. I knew so little about Tad. I had to find him and I knew that in finding him I would find the truth. I realized that losing both Tad and the project would be too much. From that I would not recover.
I was dressed, nursing a martini as evening came, preparing to hunt the bars when Darrin called. He was shouting over music.
“Are you still in Vegas?” I said.
“Yes. Did you fix this?”
A shrill woman’s laughter, the sound of shouting.
“Don’t f**k this up, Atticus. They told me you would fix this. Let’s get this going again. We need th
