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Thread of Betrayal

Page 11

by Jeff Shelby


  “No exceptions?”

  “None. Ever.” She shook her head, emphatic. “It’s corporate policy and I can tell you we adhere to it. We regularly have high-school-aged students come here, looking to stay the night for a dance or other activity. Unless there is an adult over the age of eighteen, we cannot and will not accommodate them.”

  That made sense. It was a liability issue as well as smart business. If teenagers were trying to snag a hotel room, more than likely, it meant they were looking to do things that might get them in trouble if they tried to do them at home.

  “Do you have a policy as to how you handle any minors looking to check-in?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Generally, we just politely decline them. If they get angry, we remind them that we can call the authorities. That’s usually all it takes.”

  “But if a teenage girl shows up here all alone?” Lauren asked. “With no one else and no belongings? You’d just send her away?”

  Beltran pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes. We would. It’s not our place to police. And while I’m not passing judgment on the young girl you’re looking for, you’d be surprised at what kids will attempt to do to obtain a room. They’ll claim to be alone, when they’ve got six friends outside. They’ll claim that their parent is on their way, or that their parents made the reservation. They’ll try to pull every scam you can think of in order to get in here.” She shook her head again. “They can be very resourceful. But our policy is to decline, plain and simple. We don’t police because we can’t.”

  Lauren looked away, not bothering to hide her disgust.

  I understood what Beltran was saying, though. Elizabeth was the exception rather than the rule. What the front desk saw was a bunch of spoiled teenagers trying to sneak into a room. They didn’t need help or to be policed. They just needed to be sent away. They couldn’t be expected to investigate every kid that walked in and wanted a room.

  “Is it possible to find out who she spoke to at the desk?” I asked. “To see if anything was said or if she might’ve said where she was going to go instead?”

  Beltran frowned. “I’m not sure we could be of any help.”

  “Still. You never know,” I said.

  “And I’m not sure the hotel should be involved.”

  Lauren turned back to her. “Are you fucking kidding me, lady? We’re asking to talk to an employee about a girl who has been missing for nearly ten years who came to your hotel and you turned her away because of policy. We aren’t looking to tarnish your reputation.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you don’t let us talk to whomever turned her away, I can guarantee you, I’ll personally call every local TV station and hit every Internet site I can find, letting people know she was here and you dismissed her and then wouldn’t grant a simple interview. What do you think that will do to your occupancy rate?”

  I couldn’t have said it better myself.

  Beltran looked stuck, unsure what to do. She pulled nervously at her earring.

  We waited.

  “Give me just a moment,” she said, then disappeared through the same door the original desk clerk had gone through.

  “Well done,” I said.

  “Idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m surprised you haven’t punched out more people.”

  “Bail gets expensive.”

  “I would’ve wired it to you,” she said.

  I glanced across the lobby. Anchor was still on the phone, but he was standing, looking out one of the front windows.

  Beltran reappeared. “I’ve located the employee that spoke to the young woman. He’ll be here momentarily.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded. “If we could have you perhaps move over there to the chairs, he’d be happy to speak with you and answer anything he can.”

  I nodded and we walked over to where Anchor was standing. He pulled the phone from his ear and punched it off.

  He looked at me. “Any luck?”

  “We’re waiting to speak with someone who spoke to her,” I said. “But she’s not here.”

  “Alright,” he said. “I need to run outside for a moment and chat with Ellis. I’ll be back.” He excused himself and headed out the main entrance.

  “What’s his deal now?” Lauren asked.

  “No clue,” I answered.

  Beltran approached us, accompanied by another college-aged kid, this one stocky, with thick black hair and nervous eyes.

  “Mr. Tyler, this is Will Thorton, one of our front desk agents,” she said. “I believe he was the one who had contact with your daughter. He’ll be happy to answer what he can.”

  I offered my hand and he shook it unenthusiastically. He nodded at Lauren. She just stared back.

  “Young girl was in here just a few hours ago,” I said. “You recall?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his expression flat, showing me nothing. “I remember.”

  “I assume she was here looking for a room?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. But she didn’t have ID.”

  “She give you her name?”

  He shook his head.

  Lauren pulled out a photo she’d taken from Elizabeth’s room in Minneapolis. “This was her, though?”

  He looked at it, waited, then nodded. “Yeah, that was her.”

  “So, when she couldn’t produce ID, what happened?” I asked.

  Will glanced at Beltran, then looked at me. “Nothing, really. I told her she couldn’t have a room without ID.”

  I waited.

  He stayed quiet.

  “And that was it?” I asked. “She just turned and walked out?”

  He glanced again at Beltran, then shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  We all stood there silent. Beer bottles clanked in the bar behind us. A phone rang behind the counter. A horn honked outside.

  “Will, I’m going to be very direct,” I said, staring at him. “I think you’re lying your ass off here.”

  His face immediately colored and his eyes danced everywhere except near mine. “What? No, I’m not. Really. I don’t…”

  “Here’s what I think is happening,” I said, interrupting him. “I think there was more to your interaction with our daughter. I’m not sure what, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t just turn and walk out. See, we know more about what happened to her right before she walked in here and I’m pretty confident she didn’t just say thanks a lot and walk.”

  Will chewed hard on his bottom lip.

  “And I’m starting to think that whatever you did, it might get you in trouble with your boss here,” I said, glancing at Beltran. “I think you’re worried about saying something in front of her. Because you look like you’ve got spiders crawling up and down your legs, you’re so nervous.”

  Will glanced again at Beltran, who was staring at him, her eyebrows raised, waiting on him.

  “And here’s the deal,” I continued. “I get it. You don’t want to get in trouble. But let me explain something to you. Outside, there are two guys who brought us here. They like lying even less than we do. And they’ll sit out there and wait for you to leave the hotel and then they’ll insist that you talk to them and you won’t have a choice because they won’t give you one. You’ll tell the truth and believe me when I tell you that it’ll be far worse than anything that Ms. Beltran can do to you.”

  Will’s cheeks flushed again and both he and Beltran looked past us, toward the entrance. I knew they didn’t see anyone and they were probably trying to decide if I was lying or not. He was going to be in a world of hurt if he didn’t believe me because I’d turn Anchor loose if that’s what it was going to take.

  “Will, if there’s more to say here, I think you should,” Beltran said.

  Will caught his lower lip between his teeth, biting down so hard I thought he might draw blood. His eyes shifted between me, Beltran and the big glass doors at the entrance, like he couldn’t figure out which battle he wanted to fight.

  He expelled a deep breath.
“I passed her to Aaron.”

  “Aaron?” I asked.

  Beltran’s face soured. “Aaron Simmons?”

  Will nodded.

  “Who is Aaron and what do you mean passed her?” I asked.

  Will shoved his hands in his pockets and went back to chewing on his lip.

  “Mr. Simmons is a former employee here,” Beltran said. “He was relieved of his duties about a month ago.”

  I nodded, still watching Will Thorton.

  He finally sighed. “Okay, alright. Aaron and I have a deal.”

  “A deal,” I repeated.

  “Girls show up here, I call him,” he explained. “Just give him a shout if they’re single or looking to hook up or whatever. They gotta be hot.”

  Beltran’s face was growing redder with each word.

  “So when that girl came in here and I told her we couldn’t give her a room, she got pretty upset,” Will continued. “Not like mad, but just upset. Said she had nowhere to go. So I told her I had a friend who might be able to help her out.”

  “Jesus,” Beltran whispered, her mouth set in a hard, angry line.

  I took a deep breath. “So he came and picked her up or what?”

  Will shifted his weight, the imaginary spiders still crawling up his legs. “Yeah. She said okay. I called him and he got here in maybe ten minutes.”

  “And she just went with him?” Lauren asked, incredulous.

  Will shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “So then what happens?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?” Will asked.

  “You call him,” I said. “Tell him there’s a girl. He comes over and meets them or picks them up or whatever. Then what happens?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders. “They just go to his place, I guess. I don’t really know.”

  “And what do you get out of this?” I asked.

  Will sighed. “Fifty bucks. Hundred if he hooks up.”

  Lauren’s fist shot out and caught Will Thornton square in the mouth. He stumbled backward and Anchor was immediately at her side.

  “You little asshole,” Lauren hissed. “Pimping her out.”

  Will’s hands were at his mouth, his expression more surprised than hurt.

  “You’re fired,” Beltran said, quietly. “You’re done.”

  Will frowned, but didn’t seem all that surprised.

  “Address,” I said. “I want an address for this guy.”

  “I don’t know his exact address,” Will said, dropping his hands from his mouth.

  “But you know where he lives,” I said.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” he said.

  “I can get an address out of his file,” Beltran said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hustled across the lobby.

  “He should accompany us,” Anchor said. “Just to make sure we find it.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  “Look, man, I’m not going anywhere,” Will said, shaking his head. “I just…”

  Anchor was next to him, his hand gripping Will’s arm, whispering into his ear. The color drained from Will’s face and, after a frozen moment, he gave a short, curt nod. Anchor released his arm and patted him on the shoulder.

  “He’ll be coming with us,” Anchor said, smiling at me.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “We have a small complication,” Anchor said from the passenger seat.

  We were idling in front of the hotel. Will Thorton sat pressed into between Lauren and myself in the back with Ellis behind the wheel.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Seems someone is following us,” Anchor said.

  Lauren glanced at me across a hunched down Will Thorton.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” Anchor said. “But we’re going to find out. So just bear with us for a moment, please.”

  I wasn’t sure what other choice we had.

  Ellis pulled the SUV away from the curb slowly, then made a U-turn at the end of the parking lot. We passed the front entrance and made a left out onto the street in front of the hotel. We drove maybe twenty-five feet before Ellis jerked the wheel, crossed the double yellow line and screeched to a diagonal halt in front of a car parked at the curb. Both he and Anchor were out of the car before we’d seemingly come to a halt.

  “What the hell is going on?” Lauren asked.

  “No clue,” I said, staring out the window.

  Anchor and Ellis were flanking a late model American sedan—Ford, Chevy, I wasn’t sure—but it looked like a rental to me. Anchor was on the driver’s side and Ellis was on the passenger’s side, perched on the sidewalk, eyes riveted to the car. I didn’t see weapons, but I was certain they were there and could get them out quicker than whomever was in the car that had apparently been tailing us.

  Ellis moved closer to the car and his hand snaked around to the small of his back.

  Anchor was in tight on the driver’s side window, his hand on the door.

  The door opened.

  Lauren and I both saw who it was at the same time, but she said it before I could. “What the hell?”

  I slid out of my seat, opened the door, walked around the front end of the car and said to Bryce Ponder “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Bryce was wearing the same clothes he’d had on in Denver and his chest was puffed out. “Looking for Ellie.”

  Anchor glanced at me. “You know him?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but he’s supposed to be back in Minnesota.” I switched my gaze back to Bryce. “I told you to go home.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” he said, lifting his chin.

  “The hell I can’t,” I said. “We told you. You took an unaccompanied minor across state lines. I guess I need to make that call now. I didn’t think you were this stupid.”

  The air left his chest and his shoulders slumped. “You can’t call the cops, man.”

  “Really? I can’t?”

  “Let me interrupt for a moment,” Anchor said, then motioning at Kitting. Kitting nodded and went back to the SUV. “I’m going to give you two a couple of minutes to get this figured out.” He looked at me. “Handle it however you’d like and let me know if you need assistance.” Then he turned to Bryce. “And I’ll say this one time. Do not follow us when we leave. Do not follow us again. I will see you. If I do, you won’t be able to follow anyone again for a very long time. In a car or in any other manner.” Anchor retreated to the car.

  Bryce Ponder swallowed hard, watching Anchor as he walked back to the SUV.

  “He’s not kidding,” I said. “And either am I.” I pulled out my phone.

  “Please don’t call the cops, man,” he said. “I just want to help find her.”

  I scrolled through my contacts and found the number I wanted, then punched it. “I’m not calling the cops.”

  Relief swept through him. “Thanks.”

  “I’m calling your parents.”

  His eyes went wide. “What? No, you…”

  The line clicked over and Ed Ponder said, “Hello?”

  “Mr. Ponder, this is Joe Tyler,” I said, staring at Bryce. “I’m going to put you on speaker for a moment.”

  I pulled the receiver from my ear and touched the screen. “Can you hear me alright?”

  “Yeah, I can hear you.”

  “I’m standing here with Bryce,” I said. “And I need your help.”

  “You’re with Bryce?” Ed Ponder asked. “In Colorado?”

  “No,” I said. “We’re in California.”

  “California?”

  “Yeah,” I said, staring at Bryce. Briefly, I recounted how we’d met up with Bryce in Denver and how he’d then followed us to California despite our telling him to return home.

  Ed Ponder muttered something under his breath. I couldn’t make out the words but they weren’t pleasant.

  “So, here’s my dilemma,” I said. “I can’t have him out here, getting in the way. It’s not going
to work. He told us he’d head back to Minnesota and he didn’t. My inclination is to call the authorities now. But I promised you I would do everything I could to avoid getting him in trouble with his probation. I’d like to keep that promise. So, I’m calling you.”

  A long sigh came through the phone. “I’m nearly inclined to tell you just to call the cops.”

  Bryce frowned and shook his head, chewing on his thumbnail.

  “But I guess I’d rather you not,” Ed said. “Everything being even, I’d rather you not.”

  “So what do we do?” I asked.

  “He’s there? He can hear me?” Ed asked. “Bryce you there?”

  I looked at Bryce.

  “I’m here, Dad,” Bryce mumbled.

  “I have no idea what you’re doing,” Ed Ponder said. “None. But it sounds like Mr. Tyler is willing to cut you a break if you’ll do the right thing for a change. We know you have the credit card your mother arranged for you. You still have it, right?”

  Bryce shuffled his feet. “Yeah.”

  “Go to the airport. Now,” Ed said. “Buy a ticket home. We’ll pick you up.”

  “My truck’s in Denver,” Bryce said.

  “We’ll worry about that later. Go to the airport and buy a ticket. If you can’t get a flight until morning, you spend the night there at the airport. You wanna do anything else, you’re on your own.”

  Bryce’s hands were balled up and I knew he wanted to lash out. Hit me, hit something. But he didn’t. He took a deep breath. “Alright.”

  “Call me when you get to the airport,” Ed said. “Mr. Tyler?”

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “Thank you,” he replied. “For calling and for giving him another chance to save his own rear end. My wife and I both appreciate it. You need anything else from us, please let me know.”

  “Will do,” I said and we hung up.

  Bryce and I stood on the sidewalk for a moment.

  “I wasn’t trying to cause trouble,” he said. “I really wasn’t.”

  “I believe you.”

  His eyes clouded over. “I’m just worried about her.”

  “Me, too. But the best way for you to help is to go home.”

 

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