Page 141 of What We Bury

Milo goes still. “Shit. I know that guy.” He shifts, moving so Knox partially obscures Tyler’s view of him. “That’s Tyler, Sage’s roommate’s boyfriend. He saw me with Sage. If he sees me here, the cover’s blown.” He tugs his cap down to shade his eyes. “What is he doing here?”

“Met with Hudson,” Knox supplies.

Milo’s eyebrows go up. “Really?”

We all turn our attention to Tyler on his phone. He types. Pauses. He types again. His thumbs come off the screen, and he picks up his drink to take a sip.

Milo’s pocket buzzes.

We all stare at it.

“Could be coincidence,” Milo says.

“Could be.”

Tyler is still standing at the high-top. He picks up his phone again. He types something else. Sends.

Milo’s pocket buzzes a second time.

“Coincidence twice?” Knox says.

Milo finally pulls the phone out of his pocket, holding it tilted so we can both see the screen.

The text bubble at the top reads STEPHEN.

Stephen

I know you’re seeing these.

Call me or I’ll start escalating, and you know what that means.

“Stephen,” I say, mostly to myself.

Milo glances at me. “Yeah. Same Stephen we’ve been talking about for weeks. Why are we saying his name like that?”

“Because I just realized I’ve been filing him as background noise when I should be looking at him as a problem.” I keep my voice low. “I think he might be the ‘friend’ pushing Davis’s parents on the missing person case.”

Milo lets out a breath. “I definitely see him as a problem. He’s been needy as fuck this whole time—no respect for Brock’s boundaries.”

Knox quirks a brow. “The dead guy has boundaries?”

“Obviously. We can’t sell the story he’s alive if he doesn’t. And as far as Stephen is concerned, Brock has texted him several times asking for space to get his head straight, and the fucker won’t let up.”

Knox makes a low noise, like he’s cursing internally but can’t be bothered to use actual words.

“In the last week alone,” Milo continues, “he’s called from three different numbers and now he’s texting every few minutes. Only reason he hasn’t shown up in Santa Cruz is a 5 a.m. text fight Thursday where I talked him down. Friday he threatened to ‘start looking for answers himself.’” He scrolls his phone, jaw tight. “I know you said wait. He was pissing me off.” His eyes lift to mine.

“And?”

He shrugs. “Fucking nothing. Guy’s a ghost.”

I watch Tyler drain the rest of his drink. He isn’t watching the room, but the set of his shoulders says he’s waiting for something. After a decade on the job, you get a sense for the way people manage time in their bodies: the difference between a man who’s bored, a man who’s nervous, and a man who’s been told to go somewhere and wait.

“Stephen’s a codename?” I ask, looking up. Tyler has set his phone down. Another member, an older woman who looks like she spends her days on a tanning bed, has approached and they’re chatting.

“That’s my working theory,” Milo says, eyes trained on Tyler. “This guy’s top of my candidate list at the moment. He’s been making the most noise about Brock leaving. And he just sent two texts.”

Knox frowns. “Reply to him. Test it.”