by Bryan Cohen
Chapter 30
It wasn't hard for Natalie to convince her parents she was sick – she'd watched Ferris Bueller do it at least 50 times in her youth. After she'd gotten over the weirdness of licking her palms, the clammy hands trick worked quite well. Since her parents both had jobs, she waited the customary half hour before washing her hands and leaving.
Natalie used to take the bus to the shady part of town to play pick-up basketball. Veo's was only a couple of blocks away from where she got into her first game at the age of 12. She remembered the cheers of the assembled crowd when she faked out a guy twice her age and laid the ball in the hoop. Nobody paid her much attention as the bus rumbled to her stop.
The affluence of the nearby suburb hadn't rubbed off on this part of town. If anything, the people who created the developments and strip malls filled with chain stores did everything they could to push the "undesirables" in this direction. There were a few small cues that rich people lived nearby, and Veo was one of them. Natalie nearly missed the place, as the front door was located down a nondescript alley. The fact that it was the only building that wasn't crumbling on the block should have given it away. Instead, it was the truck loading in keg after keg of beer in the back. After trying the locked front door, she figured her best way in was with the booze. Natalie hid behind a dumpster as she waited for an opening. A seven-foot center wouldn't faze her on the basketball court, but sneaking into a seedy club gave her pause.
"Remember, you're doing this for Ted," she said to herself.
The fear about breaking in made her question her motives as well. Did it really matter where Erica had been and what she'd been up to? Was it worth putting herself at risk to prove that she was bad news for her ex-boyfriend? Natalie didn't have time to answer the questions before she saw both beer guys go inside and leave the door propped open. For a tall girl, she prided herself on her elusiveness and she snuck in, hiding from the deliverymen with relative ease. She hid next to a cash register until the men left. The door shut behind them.
"I'm in this. No turning back now."
Natalie took a look around Veo. It looked much bigger on the inside than it had on the outside. It was more sophisticated than she imagined it would be. Veo felt like it belonged in a major city, but here it was on an abandoned block where the biggest nearby landmarks were a methadone clinic and a halfway house. Given the nearby attractions, few kids from school would try to come here even with a good fake ID.
"She must have had a reason for coming here," the would-be sleuth said to herself, continuing to scope the place out.
Natalie considered the options. Perhaps Erica was getting drugs. Or dealing drugs! Maybe she was getting involved with a gang or some kind of suburban mob. When Natalie found out, she'd leak word to the press. "Secret lover of Ted Finley is a drug mule," the article might say. If all went as planned, Erica would transfer or drop out, and Ted would be safe from her clutches. Natalie wandered into the main room of Veo's and saw a bartender wiping down glasses behind the bar. Natalie walked over like she owned the place and sat down in front of him.
"I'll have a milk."
The bartender hardly looked up from his task. He was the same height as Natalie but looked twice as thick.
"Get outta here, kid. I'll call the sheriff."
Natalie sat up a little straighter.
"I don't think it'll stick. I'm friends with his daughter."
The bartender gave her the slightest bit of attention, though he continued to wipe the glasses.
"What do you want?"
Natalie felt really tough. It was as if she was a real private investigator or something. She felt a different kind of rush from the one she got on the field or court.
"You served a girl here," Natalie said, taking out her phone and pulling up an image of Erica. "I want to know who she was here with."
The bartender must have realized he wasn't getting rid of Natalie. He put down the glass and the cloth and looked at the phone more closely. She could tell right away that he recognized her. It all became clear in the pause before he gave an answer.
"I've seen her on TV. Real hot stuff. Never seen her here."
Natalie smiled.
"What's your name?"
"Rick."
"Rick, this girl is 16 years old."
Rick the bartender now looked actively annoyed that Natalie was there. His best attempt to intimidate her by staring straight into her eyes wasn't going to fly with a state champion.
"I get proof she was here," Natalie said. "And the sheriff'll take your license so fast, you'll have to give out these glasses as keepsakes."
Rick grumbled.
"I don't like kids. That's why I never had any."
"But you're fine with giving them double shots of whisky, huh?"
The last line made Rick cave.
"The girl. She went by 'La' when she was here. Hung out with an off-duty deputy."
"From Treasure?" Natalie asked.
Rick nodded.
"Daly's his name. You didn't hear it from me and I never served anyone underage."
"Deal."
Natalie saw herself out and waited until she was back on the bus to do some online searching from her phone. It wasn't hard to get Daly's address. The bus would actually take her just a couple of blocks away from his place if she got off three stops early. She couldn't believe that, of all people, Erica was seeing a sheriff's deputy. A quick social media search showed that he was plenty active and in town during the last month. Did he have anything to do with her disappearance?
"There's got to be evidence at Daly's," she said. "I'll be in and out. No big deal."
Despite saying the words out loud, Natalie wasn't convinced. She got a hold of Daly's cell phone number from a classified ad he'd posted that was connected with his email address. She needed to see if he was home before she stormed in. After stepping off the bus, she dialed the number. Daly picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
She tried her best to raise her voice up and talk in as muffled a voice as she could.
"It's Erica."
There was a long pause on the other side. Natalie wondered if she should have pretended to be a neighbor instead.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"How are you still alive?"
That was not exactly what Natalie expected to hear. She was now only a block away from Daly's address.
"We need to talk. Where are you?" she said.
"I'm at the hospital. Cracked rib. Why were you at the office yesterday?"
It was a good question. What would Erica be doing at the sheriff's office?
Did she have something to do with the prisoners escaping? Natalie wondered.
"I wanted to see you," she said. "I'd been gone for so long."
There was a pause on the line before it went dead. Natalie knew she'd pushed it too far. The only way she was going to figure out where Erica had been was by getting the evidence from Daly's place. She reached the front door. She had one last bit of hesitation, before she realized why she was truly there.
"This isn't about Ted. It's about her. It's about revenge."
Natalie smiled.
"And I can get on board with that."
PART FOUR
