Chapter 89: Collette
The afternoon light sat heavily on the street, and Liza parked a few spaces away from the row of old shops.
“I called earlier,” Liza said as she turned off the ignition. “The woman who answered said Collette finally showed up for work today.”
Del nodded once, eyes forward. “Good.”
They got out of the car and crossed toward the line of storefronts. Liza adjusted her sunglasses, walking slightly ahead before glancing back. “You alright?”
Del frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because,” Liza said, lowering her voice, “you’re about to meet Oliver’s ex. Most people would be, you know, at least a little weird about that.”
“I’m here to find out where he is.”
Liza gave a short laugh. “You could at least pretend to be nervous. You’d seem human.”
Del didn’t answer. She looked straight ahead, eyes on the narrow sign that read Canvas & Co. in fading blue paint.
As they walked, Liza tried again. “For the record, Collette’s fine. Not someone to stress over. Hot, sure—but she’s one of those girls who look better when they don’t talk.”
“That’s comforting,” Del said dryly.
“I’m just saying,” Liza added, “she’s no threat. You’re—what’s the word—interesting. Collette’s more… display art. Something super nice to look at.”
Del gave her a sidelong look, and Liza grinned at her reaction.
“What if she refuses to talk?” she asked.
“Then I’ll handle it,” Liza replied. “I can be persuasive.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I can annoy someone into talking.”
Del let out a quiet breath, and they turned the corner, the shop now in view—windows filled with canvases, paintbrushes, and racks of sketchbooks. The shop sat at the corner of a narrow street in SoHo, tucked between a secondhand bookstore and a café.
Liza slowed her pace. “Ready?”
Del adjusted the strap of her bag. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“See,” Liza said as she reached for the door, “you sound ready to interrogate someone.” She pushed the door open. A brass bell above the door gave a small chime.
Inside, the walls were lined with tall wooden shelves stacked with tubes of acrylics and jars of brushes, the colors forming uneven rainbows. Near the window, finished canvases leaned against each other in lazy piles—cityscapes, portraits, abstract bursts of color.
It wasn’t a busy place. Just one customer near the back, and a woman behind the counter, rearranging a rack of sketchpads.
“That’s her,” Liza said under her breath.
Del followed her gaze. Collette was taller than she expected—slim, with glossy dark hair that brushed her shoulders. Her outfit was fitted, intentional, black jeans and a blouse. Even her lipstick matched the muted red of her nails. She moved with the kind of ease that suggested she knew people watched her, and didn’t mind.
When she noticed them, her brow furrowed. “Liza?”
Liza smiled. “Hey. It’s been a while.”
Collette came around the counter, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Wow. You look the same.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Del, curious. “And who’s this?”
“This is Del,” Liza said. “She’s a friend of mine—and actually, she’s been living with Oliver. He’s renting the extra room in her house.”
The change in Collette’s expression was subtle but clear. Her smile faltered just a little before she caught it. “Oh,” she said, drawing the word out. “I see.”
She looked at Del more closely, eyes trailing from her loose charcoal trousers to the cream cotton blouse half-tucked at the waist, the soft knit sweater layered over it. Her sneakers were clean but worn, her only color coming from the faint sheen of lip balm.
She smiled at Del. “You must be the quiet type.”
Del met her gaze evenly. “I guess that depends on who I’m talking to.”
Liza grinned a little. “Told you she’s interesting,” she murmured, mostly to herself.
Collette looked between them. “So…my manager said you two women came by the other day,” she said, looking at Liza. “He called me three times.”
Liza grinned faintly. “That’d be us.”
“Yeah,” Collette said, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder. “I wasn’t around. I was out with my boyfriend.” She paused, letting the word land. “Tell Oliver that, will you? Tell him I’ve moved on. Hotter guy, better taste, no baggage.”
Liza’s smile faded. “That’s kind of the problem, Collette. We can’t tell him anything right now.”
Collette’s brows drew together. “Why not?”
“Because he’s missing,” Liza said. “He hasn’t shown up for work, hasn’t called anyone. It’s been days.”
Collette blinked at her, caught off guard. “Missing?”
Del stepped closer to the counter. “We’ve already reported it to the police. We’re just checking with people who knew him.”
Collette leaned back slowly. “Well,” she said after a pause, “the last time I saw him was the last time we fucked.”
Del’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but her face stayed still.
“Oh-okay.” Liza cleared her throat. “And when was that?”
“I don’t know. A couple of months ago, maybe?” Collette said, her mouth tightening. “We’ve broken up by then, but I was out. I called him. He still looked good and so one thing led to another. But that was it.”
“After that?” Liza asked.
“Nothing.” Collette shrugged.
Del asked quietly, “Did he ever mention anyone else he was close with? Friends?”
Collette shook her head. “Honestly? No. The only friends I ever saw him with were mine. He never brought me to meet his. If he even had any.”
Liza frowned. “Really?”
She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. We dated for a few months. It was good in the beginning. He’s charming, you know? Says all the right things. But after a while, it started feeling off. Everything was about me — what I liked, what I wanted. Sounds nice, right? But it wasn’t. He never gave anything back. Never talked about himself. I’d be sitting there realizing I didn’t actually know the guy I was sleeping with.”
Del listened quietly.
Collette continued, “It got boring. He was detached, like there was a wall somewhere I couldn’t get through. Still…” she smirked, tilting her head. “But the sex was great. Stupidly great. Like he's... he's really great in bed. So I kept seeing him, even after we broke up. And then one day, he just stopped answering my calls.”
Liza nodded slowly. “Really?” she said again.
“Yeah,” Collette said. “Maybe that’s just who he is. He shows up, makes you feel like you’re the only thing in the world, and then he vanishes when he’s done.”
Del’s voice came quietly. “Or maybe something happened to him before he got the chance.”
Collette looked at her then—really looked—and for a moment, the teasing left her expression. “If that’s true,” she said softly, “I hope you find him.”
Liza exhaled, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks, Collette.”
Collette nodded. “Sure.”