Come Find Me

by Casper Valentine

  Nate sat behind the desk. "I'm working on a few leads. I'm surprised to see you down here."

  Mick was fidgeting in his seat. "I know it probably doesn't show, but I love Ruby. I'm lost without her."

  "Lost without someone taking care of you."

  "No, Nate, not just that. Ruby's a real good gal.”

  "A good gal?"

  Mick rubbed his pudgy belly; his normal white tank top was replaced by a Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer T-shirt. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't of blown up on her and stormed away—"

  Nate cut him off. "It is partially your damn fault. She deserves better than some hillbilly asshole like you. You knew that damn drug dealer could have come back, and you still left her alone."

  Mick dropped his head and stared at his boots. "I'm going to change, Nate. I know it's no excuse, but this pain I live with… It's making me mean. I wasn't always this way."

  Nate stood up and pointed at Mick’s face. "I'm going to find Ruby, and you’d better pray I find her alive."

  Mick looked up at Nate, his face begging for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry. Please, tell me if there's anything I can do."

  "Make sure Ebony and Keith don't need anything. Just take some groceries to them."

  Mick got up. "I can do that, Nate."

  Nate put a hand to his forehead, until Mick walked out.

  •••

  Nate's anger was turning to rage. Talking to the neighbors of Junk Man’s place was leading nowhere. The house on Fifth Street was already abandoned before any of the new neighbors moved in. Nobody knew anything about Dorothy Jenkins.

  Nate was driving around in circles. When his phone buzzed and it was Boniva, he hesitated, but figuring she'd just keep calling, he finally answered. "Yeah," he said into the phone.

  "Nate, I'm glad you finally took one of my calls. Anything new with Ruby?"

  "Not really."

  "This is just awful. Ruby was so sweet."

  "Don't say it like that."

  "What?"

  "Ruby was so sweet," Nate said, emphasizing the word was.

  "I know you'll find her. Who's looking after baby Keith?"

  "Ruby's mother, Ebony," Nate said.

  Can you come over to TC's bar?" Boniva asked.

  Nate turned out of Highpoint, onto the main road. "I'm not just going to sit at a bar and drink."

  "But I need you," Boniva said, shifting to her best sad and pathetic voice.

  Nate squeezed the steering wheel; he could feel his blood pressure rising. "What could you possibly need me for? I'm busy."

  "I've been drinking here all day and now my credit card is getting declined. I don't have the cash to pay my bar tab," Ruby said.

  "You have got to be kidding me."

  "I'm sorry, Nate. I know you're really busy and worried about your sister, but if you’d just stop by and pay my tab. It won't take long."

  Nate stomped the gas pedal. "I'll come pay your bill if you'll leave me the hell alone for a while. I don't have time for your bullshit anymore," Nate said, his voice rising.

  "Thank you," Boniva said softly.

  •••

  As soon as Nate walked into TC's tavern, he spotted Boniva's head full of blonde hair. She was sitting alone at the bar.

  There were a few other customers, most of them staring at their beers. The room was quiet, except for “He Stopped Loving Her Today,” playing from the jukebox.

  "Thank you so much for coming," Boniva said as Nate sat down beside her. "I know you're busy, just pay and we'll get out of here," she said, sliding the bar tab in front of him.

  "No, we need to talk," Nate said and waved the bartender over. "I'll take a Miller Lite and a sidecar of Jameson," he said, recognizing the forty-something bartender, in the same tight shirt she was wearing when he was there before.

  "What is it, baby?" Boniva asked.

  "It's us. We've had a lot of fun together—"

  "We sure have," she said, cutting him off.

  Nate waited for his beverages. "I think it's best if we don't see each other for a while," he said and took a drink of beer.

  "So now that you're a big narcotics detective you're too good for me?" Boniva asked, again in her most pathetic voice.

  "That's not it at all," Nate said.

  "You don't care about me anymore," Boniva said, looking away.

  "I do care. That's just it, I care too much. Why the hell else would I even be bailing you out of a jam again? I just can't handle it anymore—the task force, your bullshit."

  "My bullshit!" Boniva said, raising her voice.

  Nate tossed back his whiskey. "We've known each other since we were kids and I care about you. I really do, Boniva, but we're only good together when we're doing one thing. I have to move on."

  "So, you're just tossing me away like a bag of trash," Boniva said, as a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

  Nate brushed away the tear. "Don't cry. It's not like you'll never see me again. We've been through too much together."

  Boniva grabbed Nate's arm. "I love you, Nate. You're all I have."

  Nate was still annoyed with Boniva, but it was breaking his heart to see her like this. "I'll still be here for you. I just need to keep my head straight right now, and it's becoming quite a chore. I'm involved with some Armenians, and soon the Bandidos, on top of searching for Ruby."

  "You do look tired," Boniva said, putting her hand on his cheek.

  "I get a few hours’ sleep here and there."

  "I'm sorry I've been such a pain," Boniva said as she stood up.

  Nate put his arm around her waist and gave her half a hug. "Just try to stay out of trouble."

  "I will, Nate. I'll try hard," she said and walked away.

  "One more Jameson," Nate said to the bartender. With no more leads to check on, and nothing else he could do for the night, one Jameson led to the next, until last call.

  •••

  Ruby came out of her haze again. Her growing need for the poison that flowed through her body was consuming her mind and soul. She tried to stay focused on baby Keith. Thoughts of her son the only thing keeping her connected to this hellish reality. She knew she had to endure, had to somehow remain coherent, even against her brain’s natural desire to shut down.

  Each time Animal would come in to feed her barely edible scraps of food, she studied his face, until she finally remembered who he was. It seemed like a distant memory, but she knew he was the man who followed her from the volunteer center.

  He hadn’t attacked her yet, but she figured it was coming before long. The last time Animal came for a visit he was wearing a full leather bondage outfit, complete with a mask covering all but those monstrous eyes—his eyes, she knew she would never forget their soulnessness, like staring into an abyss.

  She drifted in and out, until Animal came in.

  He didn't speak, just sat on the ground next to Ruby, tilting his head to the side, glancing up and down her body.

  He seemed to be looking at her with a sense of childlike wonderment, despite his sinister appearance. "Are you ready to play yet?" he asked.

  Ruby could barely speak; her tongue was swollen. She parted her dry lips when Animal put a straw up to her mouth. She sucked the room temperature water, and her tongue absorbed every drop like a sponge. "More, please," she begged.

  "Are you ready to play?"

  "Please, can you just take me outside first?" Ruby urged. "I just want to see some sunlight, and get some fresh air," she continued.

  "Not until you play with me," Animal said.

  Ruby wanted him to stop using the word play. His low, gravelly voice, speaking childlike phrases, was making her sick.

  Finally, she forced herself to ask. "What do you want to play?"

  "We could play doctor."

  "Oh no, I don't like that game."

  "Then sing to me."

  Ruby was confused. He’d never acted like this. She was willing to do anything to keep him from hurting her. "What would you like me
to sing?"

  "Do you know, ‘This Little Light of Mine’?" Animal asked.

  "Yes."

  “Then sing to me, you fucking whore,” Animal screamed.

  Ruby started singing, low but melodic. "This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine, this little light of mine..." While she was wanting, needing, veins throbbing for an injection, she was trying to remember the words, and hold down the sickness rising from her guts—she just kept singing.

  She kept reminding herself that the drugs were a false escape. There was still a shred of hope in her, that she’d find a way to escape the damp, dark basement that had become her hell.

  Ruby thought back to a night when she managed to crawl around on the cold concrete floor. She was able to make it to a set of steps that night but had no idea if two days, or two weeks had passed since then. Panic and fear deep in the pit of her stomach took over, and she crawled back to her corner. She knew she was weaker now, and she was unsure if she could make it again.

  Ruby kept singing and praying her nightmare would soon end.

  EIGHTEEN

  Oct 5, 2015

  Rosales was busy with the Bandidos, so Scarecrow was accompanying Nate on the buy from Arik. "Care if I connect my iPod to your car stereo?" Scarecrow asked as Nate took the on ramp to I75 South, heading toward the Rhine.

  "Be my guest," Nate said.

  Scarecrow set up the Bluetooth connection. When a hip-hop beat started playing, he cranked up the volume and started rapping over the music. "Life's a game, it's a scene. Nate dog, the American dream."

  Nate shook his head.

  Scarecrow looked over. "What? Never heard a white boy rap like me?"

  "Can't say that I have," Nate said.

  "You're always so serious. You need to lighten up."

  Nate wanted to tell Scarecrow about Ruby. He wanted him to know why he was acting the way he was, but he knew it wasn't the right time.

  Scarecrow turned down the volume. "So, Rosales has really worked her way back into the Bandidos? I don't see how she does it. It's not like they're a jolly group of assholes that love outsiders."

  "She has a way about her," Nate said.

  "Is she banging them?" Scarecrow asked.

  Nate tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "No, she's not banging them. She's helping them with things. Accounting, setting up parties. Esperanza has lots of talents and she knows how to use them to her advantage."

  "Calling her Esperanza? Sounds like you two are getting pretty close."

  "She's a special woman. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like her a lot," Nate said.

  "Damn boy, you got it bad for this girl, don't you?"

  Nate ignored the question and took the next exit.

  "Pull down Front Street and I'll hop out there," Scarecrow said.

  "Why not wait and let me drop you off when we get closer to the business district?"

  Scarecrow showed his Chiclet teeth with a wide grin. "I'm trying to run into this girl that goes by Carmel. Me and her go way back."

  "All right," Nate said and pulled down Front Street. "Do you have any speed?" he asked as he pulled to the curb. Nate was starting to resort to anything to keep him going.

  "Sure, Nate," Scarecrow said, pulling a baggie of white powder from the pocket of his peacoat.

  •••

  Nate parked in the alley behind Arik's bar. When he slung a black duffel bag over his shoulder and turned around, a bearded man was holding the back door to the bar open. Nate looked up and spotted the security camera.

  "Arik is waiting for you," the man said.

  Nate followed him inside, down a dark hallway, and into Arik's office.

  "It's good to see you again. Set the money on my desk," Arik instructed. "Now have a seat," he said after Nate laid the duffel bag in front of him.

  Nate sat down at the table in front of Arik's desk and watched as he unzipped the bag and laid out stacks of cash. "It's all there," Nate told him. The speed had his brain buzzing, but his words and actions were smooth and calculated.

  "I will count the rest. Go ahead and load him up," Arik said to the bearded man, and nodded toward the door.

  "No, you stay put," Arik said when Nate stood up.

  "How do I know I'm not getting ripped off?" Nate asked.

  Arik handed Nate a tablet computer. Nate could see his car over the camera feed.

  "You can watch them load from here," Arik said.

  Nate nodded, and sat back down. He just wanted the deal to be over, so he could put his focus back on his sister.

  •••

  The bar area was quiet, and Nina was trying to clean up between serving drinks. It was near the end of her shift, and after a full day at school and an evening at the bar, she was tired, and her feet hurt.

  "I bet you like to play," Animal said to Nina as he planted himself at the bar and glared at her with his tiny, sunken eyes.

  Animal’s face, his voice, and the way he said the word play made Nina want to run and hide, but she held herself together. "I don't know what you mean by play and I'm not sure I want to know, but welcome to Spark. I'm Nina.”

  Animal smiled, revealing jagged teeth, full of mushy decay. “Hello, Nina.”

  “What can I get you?" she asked, brushing strands of long black hair from her dark-skinned shoulders.

  Animal leaned in close. "What do you recommend, Nina?"

  "How about a Grasshopper. We make ours with crème de menthe and Malibu Rum," she said, stepping back to avoid his stale, hot breath.

  "OK, Nina, I'll have one of those then," Animal said.

  She wished he would stop saying her name.

  When she turned around, he took off his old stained jacket and flipped it over the back of the chair.

  "Have you worked here long, Nina?" Animal asked when she returned with a light green concoction in a martini glass.

  "A few months," she said, nearly gagging when she caught a whiff of his foul odor. The cheap cologne he wore couldn’t cover up the sour scent of armpit sweat, seeping through his shirt.

  “I bet you make a lot in tips.”

  “I do OK.”

  Animal planted his elbows on the bar and leaned forward. "I own that little adult store across the street. You should come in for a new toy sometime," he said, and curled up his top lip.

  "I know the place. I’ve seen the lovely sex doll in the window.”

  “Stop in anytime.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass," Nina said as she walked away, praying the creep wouldn't stay long.

  •••

  The bearded man returned to the room and waited for Arik to finish counting the money. "He's loaded up," he finally said.

  Arik looked up at Nate and flashed a smile. "You are all set, my friend."

  "It's been nice doing business with you," Nate said.

  Arik folded his hands. "You come back to me when you need more. No more doing business with those Dixie Mafia hillbillies, OK?"

  "Of course," Nate said, standing to leave.

  "I'd pay close attention to the speed limits and those traffic signs, with that H in that trunk of yours," Arik said.

  "I'll be very careful," Nate assured.

  •••

  Nate had kept a storage unit for two years at a quiet facility, with no history of break-ins.

  He’d already packaged the heroin into a couple big boxes and covered it with some old clothes. He backed his pickup to the roll-up door and hopped out. After making sure nobody was around, he moved the boxes into his unit.

  Before he got back in his truck, his phone rang. “Hello,” he said, after seeing it was Boyd.

  “Nate, I just wanted to thank you for getting my truck back.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Boniva told me about Ruby. I’m sure you’ll find her.”

  Nate got into his vehicle. “Thanks. There’s not much to go on.”

  “I’m really sorry. There’s nobody more caring than Ruby.
You let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “Hopefully Boniva will stay out of your hair. She’s been moping around like she just lost her best friend. You let me know if you hear anything.”

  “You got it,” Nate said as he started his truck and drove away from the facility. The speed was wearing off and Nate’s mind was back on Ruby. She was still alive, he could feel it, but he knew she could be hurt, or even worse, tortured. He needed answers.

  NINETEEN

  October 6, 2015

  "Who here is Sergeant Peterson?" Nate asked, storming into the missing persons department.

  "I am," said Peterson, standing up from his desk chair and straightening his necktie.

  "I'm Detective Randolph. You're working my sister’s case."

  "Yes, we're working very hard. Please sit down."

  The other detectives left the room.

  "I don't need to sit," Nate said. He thought Officer Peterson looked like a Boy Scout, and wondered how long he'd been a cop. "Where are you at with the case, leads?" Nate asked.

  "We're focusing on the boyfriend. We find that in most disappearances a husband or boyfriend is involved."

  Nate rolled his eyes.

  Peterson continued, "He doesn't have a very strong alibi. Mick said after their fight he went to a local tavern, had a few too many, then slept it off in his car.”

  “It was Ruby’s car,” Nate said.

  “You’re right, sorry. Regardless, we can't track down anyone that can verify any of this."

  Nate shook his head. "You're wasting your time with Mick. He's an asshole and a clown, but he didn't have anything to do with this. Please tell me you have something else?"

  Peterson sat down behind his desk. "We found a few spots that had some video surveillance, along the route Ruby walked. I ran a couple of plates, but so far nothing substantial has turned up."

  "That’s it? It's going on two weeks."

  "I'm sorry, Detective Randolph, I just don't have a lot to go on."