Come Find Me
Page 11
•••
Nate put a brown bag on Arik's desk and sat down at the table across from him. "Just a little gift."
"You shouldn't have," Arik said. He pulled a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve from the bag. "This is very expensive bourbon."
Nate removed his Ray-Bans and laid them on the table. "Worth every penny."
Arik filled two rock glasses.
He stood, turned the radio up, and handed a glass of bourbon to Nate.
"‘Jungle Boogie,’ I don't remember who did this one," Nate said as he took the glass of expensive bourbon.
"Kool & The Gang, 1973."
"I wasn't born yet."
Arik smiled. "Me either," he said and held his glass in front of Nate. "To our new business venture."
They bumped glasses and took a sip.
Nate gave a coy grin. "I like my bourbon just how I like my women, twenty years old." He nearly cringed at such a terrible joke.
Arik laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "I like you. I like your style. Speaking of women. Why don't I get some over here, to party with?"
"You have some in mind?" Nate asked.
"I have connections. You just tell me what you like, blonde, brunette, redheads."
"I like them all," Nate said and sipped his drink.
•••
Ruby's arms and legs were shackled to a chair; her torso was all she could move. She rocked back and forth, watching helplessly as Animal tied Nina's arms together and held her down against the filthy mattress on the floor. Ruby turned her head and could hear Animal loosening his belt.
When Ruby forced herself to look, she could see Nina's glossed-over eyes as Animal positioned himself on top of her. Guilt was pulling her down, she was powerless, and knew what was happening to Nina was punishment for her escape attempt. Ruby turned away again when the screams came, ashamed that she wanted the sounds to stop. They were becoming unbearable, and she wished she could cover her ears. Her only refuge was closing her eyes and thinking about her sweet baby boy, Keith.
Nina's screams were turning into gargled moans. Panic rose in Ruby's chest as she started thinking it would soon be her own turn. She was picturing herself, lying on the mattress, pinned by Animal, his foul breath filling her nostrils, while his hips were violently thrusting.
She latched on to an image of Nate. She could see his face, wearing a big smile, the day he told her he was graduating from the police academy. She tried to stay focused on sweet moments from her past, but Animal's moans, and Nina's little whimpers kept pulling her back to reality.
Ruby craved the needle. She wanted to beg for it. She closed her eyes and squeezed her lids tight.
Nina grew silent, and Ruby's entire body began shaking. She opened her eyes; Animal was approaching her, and she let a low weeping escape from her trembling lips.
Animal leered at Ruby until he curled his lips into an ugly smirk. He unlocked Ruby's shackles.
Ruby shivered and held her breath. "I'll be good," she finally said.
Animal turned and walked away.
A heavy breath of air escaped Ruby's tight chest when she heard the stairs squeaking under Animal’s steps, and finally the latch of the upstairs door.
•••
Sarge kicked his feet up on the old metal desk while a shirtless Scarecrow was on the weight bench, pressing the bar, loaded with a forty-five-pound plate on each side.
“We have our hand on the pulse of this city right now. I couldn’t have dreamed things would go so well,” Sarge said.
Scarecrow grunted, pushed the weights up and racked the bar. “It’s going to go down and it’s going down hard.”
“For now, we just keep taking pictures and documenting. I hope Nate can hold it together.”
Scarecrow sat upright. “At some point we need to wire Nate up.”
Sarge grimaced. “Put it off as long as we can. He’s got too much on his mind.”
Rosales walked into the bunker, stopped, and eyed Scarecrow. “Looking good there, Captain America.”
Scarecrow pulled a T-shirt over his head. “We were just talking about your boyfriend.”
Sarge nodded. “We’re worried about him. It’s on you to make sure he’s holding it together.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’ll do what I can.”
“You’re a good cop, Conejito,” Sarge said.
“Wow, that means a lot coming from you.”
Sarge grinned. “Like I always say, kill ’em with compliments.”
“I think it’s supposed to be, kill ’em with kindness,” Scarecrow said.
Sarge took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. “Seriously, Conejito, top notch work with the Bandidos. They trust you a lot to let Nate in like they’ve done.”
Rosales smiled. “And if things don’t work out here, I can get a job as an accountant or business consultant.”
Sarge gave his boyish grin. “You’re right about that. If this doesn’t work out, we’ll all be looking for new jobs.”
TWENTY-FOUR
October 12, 2015
Nate was at Spark, waiting for Arik at the bar. The pretty blonde bartender was replaced by a thin, frail young man, Nate figured to be in his early twenties.
"I'm Matt but everyone calls me Mattie," he told Nate, before he started chatting Nate's ear off. "I just started here on Tuesday."
Nate nodded.
"It's been OK so far."
Nate took a drink of his beer and nodded again.
"It's a hip place."
"It's unique, that's for sure," Nate replied, staring down at the bar.
"People here tip well."
Nate took another drink of his beer.
"I hear there's a high turnover rate," Mattie said, lowering his tone from high to normal.
"Any idea why?" Nate asked.
"I hear the owner can be a real jerk,” Matt said.
"Comes with the territory, I suppose. Right?"
Mattie's voice was growing loud again. "It must be extra bad. The girl that worked the bar before I came along left one night and never came back."
"Really," Nate said, and focused more attention on Mattie.
"Arik tried calling her for days. She didn't answer, not one of his calls. I guess she didn't want to talk to the big jerk."
"Did you know her?" Nate asked.
"Only met her a few times."
"Do you know her name?"
"I think her name was Nina."
"Last name?"
"No idea. She was pretty, beautiful mocha-colored skin, and I heard she was smart. She probably found someplace much better."
Nate wanted to ask about her age but didn't want to raise any suspicion. A few moments later, he caught a glimpse of Arik making his way toward him. "I'm ready to talk—bring your drink to my office," Arik said, greeting Nate with a sly smile, and rubbing his dark beard.
"It was nice talking to you," Mattie said, as Nate grabbed his drink and stood up.
"You too," Nate said, and followed Arik toward the back office.
Arik sat down and threw his feet up on his desk. "You moved all that H very quick."
Nate sat at the little table in front of Arik's desk. "They lapped this shit up down south. Said it was a lot better than the Dixie Mafia brand."
Arik laughed, deep and raspy. "Of curse my stuff is better than that hillbilly shit. How much more can you move?"
"At least fifty," Nate said.
Arik took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. "Fifty?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
Nate nodded, and there were a few moments of silence, as Arik studied his face.
Finally, Arik spoke. "I want you to meet my brother Malek."
Nate leaned back in his chair, trying to hide any traces of excitement. In his mind, he could see the photo of Malek and hear Sarge saying his name.
"Malek is the head of our operations. Moving that amount of H would make you one of our top-tier distributors. He will de
finitely want to meet you in person."
"I'd like that. Give me a time and place, I'll be there," Nate said.
"He's having a little get-together at his home this Saturday. I'll have my driver pick you up. Are you familiar with the area of West Chester?" Arik asked.
"A little," Nate replied.
"Good, then it's all set. You'll have fun, Nate. There will be plenty of women there, willing to do anything to quench your appetite."
Nate smiled. "Looking forward to it."
Arik stood up, offered a handshake, and Nate obliged.
Nate left the office and gave Mattie a friendly wave as he walked through the bar area and exited the building.
Once outside, he phoned Sarge as he was walking toward the next block.
"What's the word, Nate?" Sarge said, over the line.
"You're not going to believe it. I've been invited to the home of none other than Malek," Nate said, forcing his voice to remain calm.
"That a boy, Nate."
"There's something else. The bartender mentioned a woman who worked there, and never showed up for her shift. They weren't able to get in touch with her," Nate told Sarge.
"Think there's a connection?" Sarge asked.
"She was dark skinned like Ruby. That may be more than a coincidence."
"You get a name?"
"Only a first name, Nina," Nate said, switching his phone to speaker as he approached his car.
"Do you think Arik could have something to do with Nina's disappearance? Like maybe she overheard something she shouldn't have?" Sarge asked.
"My hunch tells me Arik had nothing to do with it. But I did find this pendant at Ruby’s. A local pawn shop said it was Armenian. I don’t know what to think of that."
"The pawn shop could have been full of shit. It sounds like we have a lot to talk about. I'll see if there's been any Nina's reported missing. I'll round up the rest of the gang. Let's meet at the bar, same one we went to after the bust,” Sarge said over the phone speaker.
"I'll head that way," Nate said, hopping behind the wheel of his pickup truck.
•••
Sarge, Scarecrow, and Rosales were sitting at a high-top table when Nate walked into the sports bar. It was the middle of the day, and most of the customers were staring at the rows of large wall-mounted TVs.
Sarge threw his leather jacket over the back of his chair. "The man of the hour," Sarge said, when he spotted Nate.
Scarecrow smiled as wide as he could, and his teeth seemed brighter than ever. "Already meeting the big dog," he said.
Nate sat down next to Sarge and smiled at Rosales.
"That's good work, Nate," she said.
"First things first, Sarge—did you get anything on Nina? With no new leads, I'm grasping at straws," Nate said.
Sarge gave Nate a grin. "Nina Martin. Her family reported her missing a few days ago. They said she had an apartment a few miles from where she worked and liked to walk there. Sound familiar?"
Nate sat up straight. "I want to talk to the family. Maybe Nina mentioned someone following her around or anyone out of the ordinary."
"I don't know, Nate. I'm sure they would have mentioned it when they filed the report," Scarecrow said.
Sarge rubbed his bald head. "I agree, but I got no problem with you talking to them. Take Conejito with you; it might be easier for them to talk to a female."
"Good idea," Rosales said.
"If it was the same guy, there has to be a reason he was in that area," Scarecrow said.
"What do you mean?" Nate asked.
"You said your sister was followed by some creep in Highpoint. The Rhine is a good thirty miles away. I mean, if he's just into dark-skinned girls, there's no need to go out to the Rhine."
Sarge rubbed his chin. "That's a good point."
"One of the areas could be where he works," Rosales added.
Scarecrow gave a smile. "That's what I was thinking."
Sarge leaned back. "That's not a lot to go on. Hopefully we can find out more. We need to discuss Nate meeting Malek."
"Got an invite to a swanky party, eh, Nate dog?" Scarecrow said.
"Out in the suburbs," Nate added.
Sarge leaned forward. "I don't feel comfortable wiring you up." He took a drink of beer. "Not yet—the Armenians are going to be very cautious.”
"Build some trust first," Scarecrow added.
"Wiring him up for the first visit could easily get him killed," Rosales said.
Nate leaned back. "No wire. I need to make sure I procure the heroin and keep the Bandidos happy."
"We're in deep now, boys," Sarge said.
Nate swallowed a big gulp of beer. "I'll keep everyone in the loop."
"You two crazy kids go see what you can find out from Nina's family," Sarge said.
"We'll keep banging on doors," Scarecrow added.
Nate finished his beer, then he and Rosales left the bar.
•••
"My husband is working, but please come in," Mrs. Martin said, after Nate and Rosales introduced themselves and showed their credentials.
The house was a small split-level. Inside it was warm and welcoming. Mrs. Martin offered a coffee, but Nate and Rosales declined.
"Have a seat," she told them, and they sat down at the small kitchen table. Her voice was groggy. "I'm glad someone is actually doing something. At first, they were acting like my daughter might have just up and decide to take a trip of some sort. She didn't go anywhere on her own—her car is still there. On top of that, she would never go off without telling us. She knows how much we worry about her."
"I'm sorry they made you feel that way. I promise, we are taking this case very seriously," Rosales assured her.
"You mentioned that Nina often walked to work. Did she ever say anything about being followed or feeling like she was being watched?" Nate asked.
"No," Mrs. Martin quickly replied.
"Please take some time to think about it. Maybe it was even a long time ago," Rosales said.
Mrs. Martin closed her eyes. "I don't remember her ever saying anything like that," she finally answered.
"She never felt threatened by anyone?" Rosales asked.
"No, not that she ever mentioned."
"Did she always walk alone?" Nate asked.
Mrs. Martin nodded her head. "I told her she shouldn't be doing that. It's not safe for a young girl in that area. Anyone could have grabbed her up. Please find her."
"What about work? Do you know if she had any issues with anyone who worked at the bar? Did she ever say anything about the owner?" Nate asked.
"She said the owner rarely came out of his office. And everyone loved Nina. She was a sweet girl," Mrs. Martin said, and began to cry.
"When she walked to work, do you know if there were any places she might stop at, along the way?" Nate asked.
Mrs. Martin shook her head. "I don't think so."
"We're sorry to put you through more questions," Rosales said.
"No, if it helps, I don't mind," Mrs. Martin said between sobs. "She didn't like working at the bar," she added.
"Do you know why?" Rosales asked.
"Nina didn't drink. She didn't like serving liquor, but the tips were good, and she liked working at night. It gave her a chance to take extra classes during the day. She still found time to take me to church on Sundays."
"Every Sunday?" Nate asked.
"No, not every week. The last time she took me was three or four weeks ago. She was telling me about this terrible sex store near the bar. Nina was outspoken when she felt women were objectified, and she didn't like it one bit, when the store put a blow-up sex doll in the store window. Can you believe they would do such a thing?"
"Did she tweet about it or petition against them?" Nate asked.
Rosales could see the confusion on Mrs. Martin's face. "Social media, like Facebook."
Mrs. Martin's eyes widened. "Oh, she used the Facebook, but I don't know if she mentioned it on there. She d
idn't do anything about it, as far as I know."
Nate looked at Rosales. "Might be worth stopping in and speaking with the owner."
Rosales nodded and put a hand on Mrs. Martin's shoulder. "That's really all the questions we have. Everything else we need is in the report.”
"We appreciate your kindness," Nate added.
•••
Nate and Rosales were chatting on his cozy king-size bed. Nate was on his back, under the covers, his head on a stack of pillows. Rosales was on top of the bedding, on her belly, with her head propped up by her elbows.
"Thank you for staying with me. It's just hard to be alone right now," Nate said.
Rosales looked Nate in the eyes. "I know you're going through a lot. I admire your courage."
"My courage?"
"Sticking with the task force, despite Ruby's disappearance. It takes a strong man to do that."
"I need to stay busy."
"When we find Ruby, the three of us should go to a baseball game," Rosales said.
"Baseball game?"
"You're not a Reds fan?"
"I like the Reds. I just wouldn't have pegged you as a baseball fan."
"I love baseball! And the food there is amazing," Rosales said, smiling.
Nate raised his eyebrows. "Amazing?"
"Yes. Hot dogs, pizza, and jumbo pretzels."
"Oh, I see, you like junk food. Cheeseburgers, chips, popcorn—"
"Eww, no, I hate popcorn," Rosales said, crinkling her nose.
"Really? You hate popcorn?"
"I hate how it gets stuck in my teeth. And I hate peanut butter. I don't like the way it tastes or how it feels in my mouth."
"You're a strange one," Nate said.
Rosales giggled. "I haven't seen you consume anything other than booze and the occasional protein shake." Her buzzing phone interrupted a laugh. She snatched it off the nightstand and checked the caller ID. "Shit, Nate, it's Diego Sanchez," she said, her voice rising and her eyes widening.
Nate sat up and listened carefully.