Come Find Me

by Casper Valentine

  •••

  As soon as Nate entered his quiet apartment, he took off his boots, pulled his T-shirt over his head and pitched it over a chair.

  He turned on some music, a country artist singing about broken halos. Knowing some alcohol was his only chance of getting a few hours of sleep, he made his way to the kitchen, desperate to quiet the voices in his head.

  Nate was under no illusions; the longer Ruby was missing, the less chance of finding her alive. Standing at the counter, he took the first sip of whiskey, and closed his bloodshot eyes. Ruby's words, come find me, were once again rolling through his mind.

  Nate drank in the kitchen until he felt a slight buzz. He made his way to his bedroom and sat on the bed. For the first time in his life, he felt truly alone.

  FOURTEEN

  September 30, 2015

  Nate put on his Oakleys to block the bright morning sun shining through his windshield. He was once again driving up and down every street in Highpoint, praying to find a lead, or perhaps someone who knew Ruby.

  When he got to the house where Junk Man lived, he pulled to the side of the road.

  The windows were boarded up, and only half the house peeked through the overgrown weeds and foliage. Most of the old tires and hubcaps were barely visible through the tall grass and vegetation.

  Nate's phone rang, and he was happy to see that it was Rosales and not Boniva. "Hey," Nate answered.

  "Any luck last night?" Rosales asked.

  "It was a dead end. I don't think he had anything to do with it," Nate said.

  "Damn. I'm at the precinct. Is there anything I can do?" Rosales asked.

  "You can go see Sergeant Peterson, head of missing persons. I haven't heard anything so there's probably nothing new, but it wouldn't hurt if you went over and rattled the cage a little bit. I'm snooping around in Highpoint. I need to find a man who was following her, after her volunteer work."

  "She was followed?"

  "Some creepy guy trailed her until she went into a carry-out. I talked to the girl working at the store, and she said Ruby was pretty spooked."

  "Was she married, or did she have a boyfriend?" Rosales asked.

  "She lived with this asshole. I've talked to him twice and his story has stayed consistent. I'm going to head over that way to check on baby Keith," Nate told her.

  "I'll follow up with missing persons. See you later, at the bunker, for briefing."

  "Thanks, Esperanza," Nate said, and hung up. He got out and walked toward the abandoned house.

  Along the side of the driveway, he noticed a tire mark that had made an indent in the soft ground. It was close enough to the road that it could have been someone pulling in to turn around.

  Nate crept around the side of the house, hoping to find a window to peek into, but even the basement windows were covered. His stomach knotted. The house was so close to Ruby's, and even though it was unlikely, he couldn't shake the thought of Ruby being trapped inside. He didn't want to imagine it but couldn't help thinking of the possibility she was being raped and tortured. Come find me echoed in his mind again.

  •••

  "Well hello, Nate," Scarecrow said, his lollipop sticking out of his mouth.

  Sarge kicked a chair out from the table. "Have a seat," he said.

  Nate sat down between Scarecrow and Rosales.

  "You guys missed the press conference. The captain is already taking credit for our hard work. Talking about bringing down a major operation in record time," Sarge said.

  "We're the poster boys now," Scarecrow added.

  "I don't care what we are. We're going to put the fear of God in these assholes," Sarge said.

  Rosales looked at Nate and shot him a smile.

  "I got some good news," Nate said.

  Scarecrow leaned forward. "Do tell."

  "I got a call from my boy Jeff Roe, in county, and he was able to get me a meet with one of the Armenians. His name is Arik, and he owns one of the new college bars in The Rhine. I'm meeting with him there."

  “How soon?” Sarge asked.

  “A few days.”

  "Fantastic," Sarge said, clasping his hands together.

  "Why don't I stay close by the place in case Nate gets in a jam," Rosales added.

  "Go for it. I'm impressed; this is one hell of a crew," Sarge said.

  "I'm doing a roundup in Price Hill tonight," Scarecrow said, a sneaky smile flashing his Chiclet teeth.

  "Sweeps. Always a good time. I'll join you," Sarge said. "Check in with me tonight after your meet, Nate. Until then, let's all go home and get some rest."

  "But, first a burrito," Scarecrow added, patting his stomach.

  "It's not even noon. How do you stay so thin?" Rosales asked.

  "Everyone in the Mason family has a high metabolism," Scarecrow said, grinning again.

  FIFTEEN

  October 1, 2015

  Boyd was working overtime, ten days in a row, and this morning he finally got to sleep in. He woke up feeling good and was relieved his niece, Boniva, hadn't burned the house down.

  Boniva's mother died when she was ten. Her father, Boyd's brother, was an over-the-road truck driver and Boniva was often left home alone, to fend for herself. Boyd tried to help as best he could, but he was raising two teenage daughters of his own. Even at an early age, he knew Boniva was trouble. He didn’t want his own daughters exposed to her.

  Boyd’s plan was to run a couple errands and work in his toolshed, until his wife got off work. He got out of bed, dressed and headed to the kitchen for coffee.

  Boyd expected to see Boniva, passed out on the living-room couch, but there was no trace of her. He figured maybe Nate or one of her friends picked her up, sometime in the middle of the night. He made coffee and poured it into a large travel mug before searching for his keys. The keys weren't on the kitchen counter, their normal spot. He checked in the laundry room, the living room, and all his pant pockets.

  Boyd opened the door, stepped outside, and blinked his eyes. "Shit!" he said out loud, when he saw his truck was missing from the driveway.

  •••

  "She stole my damned truck!" Boyd said over the phone pressed against Nate's ear.

  "Calm down, Boyd. Who stole your truck?" Nate asked as he and Rosales were walking out of the precinct.

  "Boniva, damn it. Look, I don't want to file a report and get her arrested, but I need my truck back. You have to find her, Nate."

  "I don't have time for this shit," Nate said.

  "If you don't help, I'll have to report it."

  "I'll make some calls and see what I can do," Nate said, wondering how Boniva had become his responsibility. "Are you sure it was her?"

  "She's been here since you dropped her off. I woke up and both Boniva and my truck are gone. It doesn't take a cop to figure it out."

  "I'll find her," Nate said, and hung up.

  Rosales looked at Nate. "What was that all about?" she asked.

  "A crazy girl I know. She stole her uncle's truck. He wants me to get it back.”

  "You get the plate number?" she asked as they strolled along the walkway in front of the police department.

  "I don't want to put anything out yet. She has major issues, but I grew up with her, she's a friend. I'll track her down," Nate said. "I'll call you later and we'll set up a time to meet up before I go see the Armenian," he added.

  "Sounds good. I'll see you later," Rosales said as they parted ways.

  •••

  TC's was a biker bar, and Nate could smell the cigarette smoke as soon as he opened the door. The bar was Nate's second stop after trying Boniva's phone again. He didn't see Boyd's truck in the lot but figured she might have been there and left.

  Everyone at the bar turned their heads when Nate walked in. When they didn't recognize him, they turned their attention back to their drinks.

  Nate knew Boniva liked this place because she could score coke. He also knew better than to walk in and start asking questions right away
. He sat down at the end of the bar, next to a heavily tattooed man, both arms sleeved. Nate ordered a beer from the bartender, a forty-something woman trying to pull off the look of a twenty-something, wearing a tight shirt that spilled low and a pair of cutoff denim shorts.

  "Bottle or draft?" she asked, her voice low and gravelly.

  "Bottle," Nate said. When she turned around, he looked back and scanned the room. It was quiet other than a couple of guys shooting pool near the back.

  When the bartender sat his beer down in front of him, Nate took off his jacket and threw it over his leg. He leaned forward and rested his head on his hand, making sure Tattoo Man could see the four-leaf clover that covered most of his forearm.

  "You Irish?" the man asked.

  "I was born here but my grandparents came from Belfast," Nate answered.

  "You probably know how to drink then," Tattoo Man said.

  "A couple Jameson's neat, for me and my friend here," Nate yelled out to the bartender.

  "Never seen you in here before," Tattoo Man said.

  "Just passing through this part of town. You come here often?”

  “I stop in from time to time.”

  “A friend of mine told me about this joint. She was supposed to be here, I must have missed her. A young, pretty blonde named Boniva."

  "Bleached almost white? There was a cute one here not long ago," Tattoo Man said as the bartender brought their Jameson.

  "That’s her. Did she leave with anyone?" Nate asked and tipped back his whiskey.

  "You’re not spying on your girl, are you? I don't want to get anyone in trouble," Tattoo Man said.

  Nate gave a coy grin. "No, she's more of a come and go type of girl if you know what I mean," he said and rubbed his nose.

  Tattoo Man drank his whiskey. "I see where you're coming from. She was in here trying to score, but this place is dry as bone right now. Hell, this whole county is running low. Someone told her to try that strip joint over the river."

  Nate tossed back the rest of his whiskey. He was pissed he’d just missed her, and the last thing he wanted to do was make the twenty-minute drive to the strip joint in Kentucky. Nate slammed his glass down on the bar. "Nice talking to you."

  "Thanks for the drink," Tattoo Man said.

  •••

  The air held the odor of cheap perfume and old ashtrays. A topless woman was on the stage, dancing offbeat and clumsily in her clunky shoes.

  At a club that was shut down three times for various violations, it didn't take Boniva long to find someone with coke. As a bonus, she found Caleb attractive—she thought his eyes were dreamy.

  "I'll do anything you want," she whispered into his ear.

  Caleb nodded and stood up.

  Boniva took Caleb's hand and he led her toward the door.

  Animal was slouched into a corner booth, watching the two of them. He'd been there for over an hour.

  "I'm parked over here," Caleb said, leading Boniva across the parking lot, toward a white Lincoln.

  When they got in the car Boniva leaned forward, crossed her arms and pushed up her breasts. "Nose candy," she said, giving Caleb her best seductive smile.

  Caleb reached over her lap, opened the glove box and pointed to a small bag of white powder. "All you want, baby," he said.

  Boniva snatched it up and tore it open like a kid with a Christmas present.

  "Be careful, that's good stuff," he said as Boniva poured a bump on top of her hand.

  After she snorted it, Caleb laughed and wiped the excess powder off her nose. "You like that, I see," he said, unzipping his pants. "I have something else you might like."

  As soon as Boniva's head fell to his lap, Animal was banging his thick fist on the passenger side window.

  "Who the hell are you?" Caleb asked, rolling the window down just a portion.

  Boniva straightened up. "Can't you see we're a little busy here?"

  Animal curled his upper lip. "I don't know who you think you are, lady, but they don't like you stealing away customers."

  Caleb jumped out and rounded the back of the car. "Look, you creep, she can leave the club with whoever she wants."

  Animal pulled a knife from his jacket. It had a curled tip, intended for tearing through the meaty insides of whatever it was plunged into. "The girl's coming with me," Animal said, opening the passenger door.

  Boniva should have been scared, but the coke was kicking in. "Do you know who my boyfriend is?" she screamed.

  "Out of the car," Animal said, his big hand grabbing at her arm, the other pointing the knife toward Caleb.

  Boniva dug her fingernails into his flesh. "I'm not going anywhere! Fuck you!" she said, clawing toward his eyeballs.

  Nate pulled into the parking lot. When he got out of the car, he could hear Boniva screaming. He drew his gun and ran toward the commotion. Once he got close, he hunkered down, staying out of sight.

  "Drop the knife," Nate yelled when he was one car away. He was ducked behind it with his gun pointed at Animal’s head.

  Animal spun Boniva in front of him and wrapped his free arm around her torso, putting the knife to her neck. "I'll slit her throat!" he yelled as he stepped backwards, pulling Boniva with him.

  Keeping Animal lined up in his sights, Nate eased forward as Animal continued dragging Boniva back. "Drop the knife," Nate yelled.

  Animal released Boniva, spun around and ran.

  Nate gave chase, but Animal was too close to his car. Nate could only watch as he jumped in and sped off, slinging dust and gravel.

  Nate went back to Caleb's car; Boniva tried to embrace Nate, but he pushed her away. "Jesus, Boniva! What were you thinking? You think I have time for this shit?" Nate looked a Caleb. "Get lost, asshole!" he shouted.

  The rush was wearing off and tears ran down Boniva's cheeks, washing away her makeup, making her look like a sad, slightly coked-up racoon. "I'm sorry, Nate. Thank God you showed up," she said, still trying to hug him.

  "Do you even give a shit about finding Ruby alive? You need to get Boyd's truck back. You're lucky he called me and didn't file a report," Nate said. "Boniva, where did you park?" he asked.

  "Over there," Boniva said, pointing to the other side of the lot.

  "Straight back to Boyd's. I'll be right behind you," Nate said.

  "Do some blow with me, please," Boniva begged.

  "For crying out loud. I need to keep my head clear and find Ruby."

  Boniva wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked toward Boyd's truck.

  Nate wanted to push her arm away and tell her things were over between them, but he didn't have time for her to throw a fit. He needed her to get Boyd's truck back to him, so he could stay focused on finding Ruby.

  •••

  Ruby came out of the haze and could sense someone in the room.

  He moved in close, and his pungent breath, which smelled like spoiled milk, burned her nostrils.

  Ruby's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim overhead light, and she could see the curves of her captor's face. She struggled to make out enough detail to recognize the man who was kneeling in front of her, his soulless eyes staring at her like she was a piece of meat.

  "Are you ready to play?" he asked, stroking her matted hair.

  Ruby could almost recognize him; she tried to recall faces that were tucked away in corners of her mind, but the drugs were erasing recent memories, and she had lost all sense of time. "Who are you?" Ruby asked, her voice quivering and her body trembling.

  "I'm the man that has what you need," he said, holding up a loaded syringe.

  Ruby was no longer tied up, and she wanted to stick her arm out for the needle. She could feel a sickness rising from her guts; she needed the drugs. "Fuck you," she said, refusing to give in.

  "You'll come around," he said, pulling at both of her arms, lifting her from the chair.

  Ruby was weak, and she could barely stand. Her legs wobbled as she tried to support her frame. Her mind was clouded, and her equilibriu
m was off.

  The creep released her arms, and she leaned forward to catch herself on an imaginary sink. He pushed both hands against her chest to hold her upright.

  "Over there," he said, pointing to a filthy mattress in the dark corner.

  "Oh no," Ruby said, shaking her head.

  The captor took his hand away from her chest, and she crumbled to the cold concrete floor. He grabbed her by the feet and started dragging her toward the grimy mattress.

  Ruby could only raise her voice just beyond a whisper "What are you going to do to me, you sick bastard?"

  He leaned down and positioned her on the stained mattress. His face was inches from hers, and Ruby could smell his foul breath. The odor was like rotten eggs, and it was more than she could handle.

  She turned her head to the side and vomited, sour stomach acid.

  "You're going to be my play doll," The monster said.

  Ruby could take no more; she closed her eyes and stuck her arm out. She felt the familiar sting and welcomed the darkness that would soon follow.

  SIXTEEN

  October 2, 2015

  Nate and Rosales parked and walked the sidewalk, along the vacant buildings and college bars. The area was a mix of smiling twenty-somethings, and smelly vagrants they crossed the street to avoid. Nate nudged Rosales, and they watched a young couple in trendy clothing and designer glasses, laughing their way into the adult-novelty shop.

  "Maybe you should look around in there, until the meet is over," Nate said with a wide grin.

  "I could use some new toys," she answered, catching Nate by surprise.

  They stopped in front of a little joint next to a barber shop, called The Speakeasy. Nate pointed down the street to a place called Spark. "That's the Armenians’ bar."

  "I'll wait in this place. Do you think they’ll get mad if I only drink iced tea?" she asked with a smile.

  "They won’t mind a pretty girl like you, drinking iced tea. I'll see you soon," Nate said. He loved her smile, and the way she spoke, and was shocked that for a moment, he wanted to kiss her. Nate pushed away his irrational feeling.