The Arrangement

Chapter 1 - Vianna-3

Maybe some of it was my fault. Since I didn’t bother to date a guy more than once or twice, she never had the chance to see a healthy relationship. Maybe her mother’s guys left Sage thinking terrible relationships were the only relationships you could have. Hollywood certainly reinforced that with so many movies about cheaters and broken marriages. Sure they would have a happily ever after at the end, but everyone knew those guys were perfect and complete fairytales.

Okay, so maybe I was a cynic myself, but I did know there was more to a woman’s worth than what she could provide for a guy. I had been trying to reinforce that into her mind for years now, basically since I took her in. The problem was that Sage didn’t see her own self-worth. One time, a few months after the adoption had been made official, I had found her crying in her bed late at night. It took her several minutes to calm down enough to tell me what was going on. Basically, she hated herself because her mother had picked drugs over her. And I wasn’t proud of my response, but I talked a lot of smack about her mom. Her mother had damaged Sage, and I did my best to try to heal her. Sage refused to see a therapist, so I had to be mom and boss and therapist and friend all in one. I did the best I could, but now I was trying to figure out where I had failed her.

There had been only so much I could do, though. After all, I couldn’t live her life for her. She would grow up and make mistakes and hopefully learn from them. God knew I made a lot of mistakes myself.

Hopefully this was all just a mistake, and not one that would cost Sage something dear.

I parked, locked my car, and held my purse tight to me. I wasn’t the kind of woman to own a gun, but right now, I wished I did have one. I’d feel safer if I did.

I kept my eyes peeled, looking all around as I made my way to the front door of the apartment complex. The parking lot was almost full, but I didn’t see Trenton’s car. That didn’t surprise me. I had a strong hunch that he hadn’t been around for as long as Sage’s been gone. I wanted to confirm that, or, better yet, I wanted to find him, and Sage, too.

The stench of garbage, drugs, and body odor could’ve knocked me over as soon as I opened the front door and stepped inside. A shiver ran down my spine. I did not want to be here. Something seemed off about this place, but that just had to be my imagination, right? Either way, this place was the pits.

But what else could I do? What other option did I have? The police hadn’t even been sure I needed to file a missing person’s report yet considering I contacted them as soon as I saw Sage wasn’t home and hadn’t answered her cell. They assured me they were doing everything they could, but they had to be busy with other pressing matters, and honestly, I wasn’t making any major headway myself, and this was my only pressing matter. Yeah, sure, I wasn’t an investigator, but I was the one most desperate to find her.

Sage and I hadn’t even fought recently. We had been on really good terms—mostly because I had kept my mouth shut this time around with her latest re-hook up with Trenton. I had been trying to get her to prove herself at the restaurant. I desperately wanted to promote her to being a waitress, but I also didn’t want to play favorites, and honestly, she didn’t deserve it yet. She just wanted to be a girl, to not have a lot of responsibilities, and I understood that. She had to shoulder a lot and basically had to take care of herself for a long time before her mom ended up in jail. Her childhood hadn’t been ideal, and now she was trying to be a typical rebellious teen. She had never gotten into any real trouble, so I couldn’t complain too much.

Or maybe I had given her too much of a leash because I wasn’t a fit mother. I had a lot of sleepless nights when I first decided to adopt her. I had only babysat for one summer before I started at the restaurant as a waitress and started my way up the ladder almost immediately, making my way up to hostess at eighteen and then to manager by twenty. Two years later, I was the owner. I was a go getter. One day, Sage would be one, too.

I hoped.

I closed the door to the apartment complex behind me and appraised the long hallway lined with doors. Now the only question I had was how to figure out which apartment was Trenton’s.

Loud music blasted from the door on the right. I knocked, but no one answered. They probably couldn’t hear me, so I knocked again, harder and longer this time, but still no one answered. I wasn’t about to try the doorknob because who knew what kind of person or people might be on the other side, so I kept on walking down the hall, knocking on doors.

Always the same result. No one answered.

To say I was getting frustrated would be an epic understatement.

Not sure what else to do, I headed back toward the front door. Maybe I could learn who the landlord was and find out Trenton’s apartment’s number from him. Maybe I could even convince him to use his key to open the door. He had to have a skeleton key, right? Hopefully the landlord was an okay guy. Given the state of the place, he allowed his tenants to trash the place, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were bugs creeping around. If he didn’t care about the building, he probably didn’t give a rat’s ass who he had living inside the walls, so long as he got his money. Well, if he wanted money, I had some squared away. I could give him a Benjamin and maybe then he would be willing to help me out.

Through the window, I spied an old car rolling up. It took the driver a few times to squeeze into a spot and then climb out. It was an older woman. She was the first soul I’d seen since I arrived. Hopefully she would be willing to answer a few questions.

Trying my best not to get my hopes up and failing, I opened the door and walked out to her. “Excuse me. Hi. I’m Vianna Klein. I’m looking for Sage Farron. Do you know her? She’s—”

“The girl of that Trenton Young fellow.” The woman eyed me, tilting her head to the side. Her permed white hair didn’t budge. Her eyes were shrewd, and I found myself a little unnerved to be the subject of her scrutiny.

“Yes. Have you seen her recently? Or him, for that matter?” I held my breath as I waited for her answer.

“Why you asking? They owe you money or something?” She sounded so disgusted I had to grimace. She didn’t care for Trenton, or Sage, and that made my heart hurt.

“No. Nothing like that,” I said to reassure her. “Sage’s my daughter.”

Her light eyebrows shot up, and she looked me up and down. “You’re not old enough to be her mother.” The disapproval in her tone and her pursed lips that caused thousands of tiny wrinkles to appear left me agitated. She wasn’t the first to cast judgment on me once they learned I was Sage’s mother. They figured I must’ve gotten knocked up at thirteen. I could see it in their eyes, and this woman clearly thought it, too. I hated their judgment, resented their assumptions. Even if I had Sage while really young, what business was it of theirs?

But I couldn’t lash out at her. I swallowed my pride and offered her a tight smile. “Adopted mother,” I clarified, my cheeks flushing. “Please. She hasn’t come home, and I’m worried about her.”

“You should be.” She wagged a gnarled finger at me. “That Trenton boy. Didn’t you discourage that? He’s not good for her, not good for anyone.” The old woman shook her head, lips still pursed.

I grimaced but tried to keep my cool. I really didn’t need her judgment, but I really did need her help. “I did discourage it, but there’s only so much I can do. Do you have children?”

The woman finally relaxed her pursed lips. After a long moment, she slowly nodded. “Yes. You’re right. Kids, daughters especially, tend to do whatever they want, which is often the opposite of what you want it to be. They’re trying little brats. Oh yes, there are those who claim their gifts, but, honestly, they can try even a saint’s soul.”

My impatience burst through. I didn’t need her to ramble on about kids. I needed to know about one kind in particular—my daughter. Tapping my foot and crossing my arms, I asked, “Have you seen either of them?”

She rubbed her chin. She had a few whiskers. She had to be in her seventies. The woman kept squinting at me as if she couldn’t see me even though I was standing right in front of her. The idea of her driving did not sit well with me, but that she hadn’t answered my question yet sat even worse. The woman nodded again, the movement halting. “I think I saw them a week ago,” she said. “Yes. They were talking and laughing. Actually looked happy for once. Sometimes they would argue, quite loudly at that. Your girl can be headstrong.”

“Don’t I know it.” I grinned despite myself. Sage had showed determination and patience when she wanted to. Like the fancy blue gown she wanted for prom. I told her if she saved up for half of it, I would pay for the rest. She ended up saving for all of it, so I bought her heels and a purse. She could be mature and responsible. If only she picked better friends. Corinne wasn’t the best of influences, but I’d pick her over Trenton any day of the week. She just needed to continue to set goals for herself because when she did, she shattered them. “A week ago,” I repeated glumly. A week meant I had seen her after that point. Damn it. “Exactly a week?” I pressed. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. I saw them walk into his apartment. I had come home from playing bingo. I didn’t win anything. Not that time. I swear it’s rigged. I won every week for the first month that I started going, but ever since, not once. Not one time! They just want my money. They rig it so you win at first, just enough to hook you in, and then they rig it so you lose and—”

“Which apartment is his?” I interrupted, not wanting to be impolite but wanting answers badly enough to risk offending her.

“Rude,” she huffed under her breath. “Interrupting like a no good...Number 352. His friends dominate that entire floor. Not any of them are any good. They’re so loud and obnoxious and just plain bad news. I’ve thought about calling the police on them a few times, but I’m too scared of them to. Maybe I should call anonymously. But if they did trace it back to me—”

“Sage isn’t like that,” I said, sliding toward the front door.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The woman shrugged. She coughed slightly into a trembling hand. Sounded deep and tight to me, like a smoker’s cough. “I’m Georgia Henderson. I live in 212.”

“Thank you, Georgia,” I said warmly. Overtalker or not, she had given me some help, and I was so appreciative for that. “If you could call me or the police if you see her, I would be so grateful.” I dug into my purse and removed a slip of paper. I jotted down my number and handed it to her.

Georgia looked it over and nodded. “I will. I am sorry you can’t find her, and I do hope she’s all right.”

“She probably is.” I forced a smile. “Maybe they went on a vacation and don’t have cell access. A spur of the moment type deal.”

But I didn’t believe it. Sage wasn’t the kind of girl to not check in. The longest she’d gone between checking in when she had gone away on vacation with Corinne had been two days. Two days compared to five. And I knew there was no way she would deliberately not check in.