If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 41

Saturday 9:30 am

Jean woke up, confused.  Where was she?  Then she saw a grey sweater hanging in the partially open closet door.  Silver, like his eyes, she smiled.  For a few minutes, Jean relived being tucked inside Matt's arms last night, but then the reason behind the hug hit her: Megan.  Instantly, Jean sat upright, grabbing for her phone.  Damn, she'd forgotten to recharge it last night again.  Searching for Matt, she found him in the kitchen.  He looked up from his bagel in surprise. 

"Jean, don't you want to get dressed?"

"No, I want a phone."

"Here," Matt flipped her his cell.  Jean almost dropped it.  He found himself disappointed.  Watching her bend over and pick up his phone would have been a good way to start the morning.  He took a few more sips of his coffee.  He had the feeling he was going to need to be as awake as possible in a minute.

Fingers suddenly sweaty, Jean punched in the number then her password.  One message.  She held her breath, but it was only Toby asking about Megan.  The message was dated yesterday.  She cursed, slamming the phone on the table.

"Hey!" Matt cried out, "careful!"

"Sorry," she replied.

"Want some coffee?"

"No, I want some answers.  Is your idiotic roommate up yet?"

Obviously not a morning person, Matt thought.  He chugged his coffee, wiped his mouth.  "Tell you what, I can get ready in about half an hour.  How about we head to the police, and then you can come back and grill him to your heart's content.  Wake the guy up before 10:00 and you're liable not to survive," he teased, but Jean didn't smile.

It was not what she wanted to hear, not any of it.  She did not want to go to back to the police or to security.  That policewoman yesterday had cared more about a missing dog than a person!  No, no way, she repeated in her mind, absolutely not.  They would never listen to her for at least two reasons.

One: she wanted to lay some of the blame on the wrong guy.  Not wrong because he was innocent, Paul wasn't innocent.  He knew something about Megan's disappearance, she was convinced of that.  No, he was the wrong guy to accuse, because the jerk was close to being a sports hero.  No one was going to believe that their winning team captain was a kidnapper in disguise.  Especially after they found out she had a grudge against the guy.  Paul's honor committee involvement was the final nail in the coffin.  His reputation was spotless; hers was not.   She had no desire to accuse him of any wrong doing, not in public.

Two:  Jean had decided that she'd probably overreacted about Erik.  Not only did she have no proof, she didn't even know the guy, whereas Megan did.  Sure, Jean wasn't happy if he had tricked Megan that night.  But Megan had been laughing when she'd left, besides, if there was one thing her roommate could do, it was talk her way out of a situation.  If Megan was still missing, it was probably because she wanted to be, reasoned Jean.  All in all, handling this quietly was in everyone's best interests.  Going to the police would just bring up questions none of them would want to answer, now or later. 

But she didn't want to explain her thoughts to Matt, especially the ones about Paul.  "You weren't there," she told him. "The police aren't going to help us.  They don't even like us.  I'm not going to waste time begging for their help when I could be out looking for Megan."

"You're being unreasonable.  They're trained professionals."

"Hah!  They're trained idiots.  They said I had to report it to the Campus police first.  Can you imagine how they'll handle it?  Just think what they're going to say when we tell them where Megan was that night.  What she was doing.  They'll never take this seriously!  Can you picture trying to explain the Game to those morons?"  Jean snapped upright, hand to her head in a salute.  "Yes, sir, officer sir," she playacted, "the night my roommate disappeared, we were playing a game with squirt guns.  And yes, sir, officer sir, it does involve winning lots of beer."  Jean's hand fell back to her side.  "They'll laugh their asses off."