Chapter 23: FRANTIC SEARCH

My dad flopped heavily into the chair, with a stunned expression, while Mom stood, wringing her hands, her eyes staring hauntingly into mine.

Hoping to break the tension, I grabbed my cell. "It's not them. Let me call Ziggy."

I pressed speed dial while Dad rose from his chair again, grappled around for his phone that was buried under some newspapers on the table.

"Calling Kayden," Dad said as, a female report's excited voice sliced through the room. "It went to voicemail," he informed us, stone-faced.

"Calling Ziggy," I told them as another female reporter's voice cut in.

Ziggy's cheerful voice answered, "Hi, if you're getting this, you're not getting me. I mean, you will eventually, I'm just not taking your call right now. Probably because I'm doing something better than talking on the phone. Leave a message. If I like you, I'll call you back when I'm bored. If you don't hear from me well, that'll probably be because I don't."