by Aven Jayce
A few of the regulars are at their usual table and one raises his glass while the others call out my name. I shake their hands and then check that everything’s okay at the bar, sending Haverty to inspect the private rooms. We have three scheduled parties, including a meet and greet corporate mixer and a bridal shower. He usually keeps his eye on the back area while watching over the bar as well. With Hollis at the front and Soph and my mother on the floor with the other workers, our customers are settled, laughing, and spending money. And that’s what it’s all about. We’re more than happy to take their green. Drink away my little pretties... damn, I’m starting to go insane without any alcohol in my system. I was fine at dinner, but now a hundred people surround me with a drink in hand.
“You doing okay, buddy? Your eyes keep gazing at the bottles instead of at the customers.” Haverty brings me out of my daydream while pulling me away from the bar. “Maybe you should be in your office tonight instead of on the floor. There’s got to be some big boy paperwork waiting for you up there. We’re okay. It’s busy, but everything’s under control.”
“Since Sunday, I’ve only had a couple of swigs from my flask, and that was only because it was the night I lost my shit. This is the fourth day. My hands are a shaky mess,” I exhale and run my fingers through my hair. “I should’ve opened a restaurant and not a wine bar.”
“More than likely, you’d still be serving alcohol at a restaurant,” he says.
“Okay... then an art gallery.”
“You’d still be...”
“Hav, shut up.”
“Okay, come on.” With his hand on my back, he leads me to the stairwell and points. “Go!” he demands. “You need to work in your office for a few weeks until you get over your cravings. We’ve got this. Now go.”
“I’m going to talk to Sophia first... who the fuck’s our DJ tonight?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Haverty says with an eye on the speakers. “Didn’t know you liked The Raconteurs,” he laughs.
“Just tell whoever it is to stick with the playlist, or maybe you should go over there and put Nina back on, this heavier sound will drive people away.”
“I happen to like this heavier sound,” he starts to sing as he walks toward the DJ’s booth. I do too, but not during business hours.
Without batting an eye, Sophia rushes past me with a bottle of wine and a stack of folded Dark Scarlett t-shirts in her hands. I pull her close so she can’t escape, in need of another kiss before I withdraw into my office for the night. I brush my nose across her cheek and our mouths meet.
“You look hot this evening, Soph,” I whisper in her ear.
“It fucking took you long enough to tell me that. You’ve got fans by the way. They asked me if you were single,” she points to a table of well-dressed business women who smile and wave. I nod my head and wink then return my gaze to my wife. “Ha,” she moves her body closer to mine. “I’ve never seen you act so charming at work. Do you think you can handle all ten of them if they want to do the nasty with you?” she teases.
“Do the nasty? You mean, help with my paperwork?”
She wrinkles her nose and flaunts her best pouty face. “Are you leaving us already? You’ve only been down here for a minute.”
I nod and tuck her hair behind her ears in a loving gesture. “I need to move away from the alcohol for a while,” I whisper.
She nods and turns back to the women. “I’ll come up and visit you in a bit, but first...” she sways her ass as she walks away, placing a few t-shirts on their table and the bottle of wine. I can tell by their expressions and laughter that they realize I’m “unattainable,” and it looks like they have an excess of questions for my wife. She’s in a playful mood, so she’ll probably tell them anything they want to know about me, or what she believes they want to hear. It’s time to disappear so I don’t have to deal with the awkward stares as she speaks.
I wonder why the hell Haverty hasn’t resolved the music issue. Jack White’s voice is still heavily filling my ears, only the DJ moved away from The Raconteurs and on to The White Stripes. What gives?
With a pile of job applications in one hand, and my cell in the other, I sit next to the balcony railing to keep an eye on the front door while still accomplishing some work. Damn, these kids are young. There’s an application from a sixteen-year-old for Christ’s sake. I let it float to the floor and move on to the next. Shit, you’re kidding me. Marcus Wild? Alyssa’s voice pops into my head saying for realz?
It has a Las Vegas address, his employment history at Jameson Industries, and lists Sophia, David, and Paul as his references. What an ass.
The form’s one of our online applications. My mother must have printed it and left on my desk. I can’t believe this crap... and his number’s on here as well. I shake my head take out my cell. Fucker. I want to know where he is and when he’s coming by tonight.
It’s actually ringing.
“Salvation Army, can I help you?”
“Listen, dickhead.”
“Sorry to offend you, pissant, I meant Seven Nation Army. Did you know Jack White used to mispronounce that word, salvation, when he was young?”
Shit, he’s here. He knows what’s on the sound system. I stand and look around the room... Sophia’s still talking to the women, Haverty’s by the bar, where the hell is he?
“Do you trust in me completely for your salvation?”
“You’re not God, Marcus.”
There he is. He has his back against the bar, glass in hand, and is looking into the lounge at my wife, still wearing the sport jacket and jeans he had on at the Arch, but now in a Cardinals hat that covers his blonde hair.
“Nice place you got here, Cove. Good wine too. Expensive though, I should get a discount don’t you think?” he laughs. “And you might want to know that your DJ’s not the most loyal person in the world. All it took was a fifty to get my music...”
“I have your check, come upstairs or get the fuck out.” I look down at Haverty to see that he’s taking a call. He knows he shouldn’t be on his phone unless it’s an emergency.
“This is sad,” Marcus says. “We only saw one another a handful of times during my trip. Perhaps if we’re in the same city again we can go out to a movie together, or fishing, or hang out with your family and play board games, or even better, we can have dinner at your bodyguard’s house. He is your best friend, right?” His eyes are glued to Sophia as he speaks. “How much do you know about James Haverty, Cove?”
“More than you’ll ever know. Don’t even try to fuck with my head.”
“I think you know very little about your alleged best friend whose home you’ve never visited. Your pal. Your protector. I’m trying to teach you a few things about life and you’re fighting me every step of the way, now be a man and take care of your family and friends,” his voice rises over the music and the crowd of people gathered around the bar. “Let me give you a little advice as I continue molding you into the man you need to be for that woman of yours.”
“I’m coming down. You’re just as fucked in the head as...”
“As Paul. I know. That kind of hurts my feelings, dickhead.” He opens fire with his middle finger without even turning his head. “Listen, why the fuck wasn’t I invited to your wedding?”
“Haverty!” I call out over the noise. I want Marcus escorted upstairs but Hav’s still on his goddamn phone and when I yell down to him again, he holds his finger in the air for me to wait. Damn him. I watch as he disappears down the hall to the private rooms, and it’s at that moment my heart stops and my feet become concrete blocks. I can’t move. I’m frozen in place as Marcus turns to me with a wicked grin. Son of a bitch.
“This is gonna be good,” he says and drops me from the line.
“Haverty,” I whisper.
Marcus sets his wine glass on the bar and starts to dance. The hair on the back of my neck rises as he inches closer and closer to my wife. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I said I’d
take care of this nutcase.
Hollis becomes aware of the scene but only laughs when he sees him circling Sophia with such pathetic dance moves. He’s a freak around her, like a baby bird flapping it’s wings in a frantic state as it’s learning to fly. A look of fright covers her face when she becomes aware of him, but her expression changes to anger in a split second. She pushes him away only to have her wrist grabbed and her body pulled toward the door.
“Sophia!” I yell, in pursuit down the stairs. My fight response has finally kicked in after five seconds of paralyzing hell. Marcus crushes Hollis against the wall while forcing Sophia out the door; leaving both Hollis and myself stunned by his quick moves. I reach the front, shove my shithead of a doorman out of the way, and charge toward the black Chrysler. “Sophia!” I call out again, only to be horrified when she looks back with her hand up, about to speak, but is pulled into the car and hustled away.
“Fuckin’ A!” I shout. My mother hurries outside to see what happened as I pace and run my hands through my hair. “Fuck! Hollis, you piece of shit! Call the police now!” He takes out his cell as my mother has a worried look on her face. “Now, Hollis! Call the cops!”
“Cove, what happened?” she asks.
“The fucker... goddamn... asshole.” I’m beside myself and can’t get the words out. She wraps her arms around my chest to halt my movement but I break free when I see Haverty step outside. “Where the fuck were you?” I shout and slam him violently against the front of our building. “You asshole, Haverty! Where the fuck did you go?”
“I’m sorry, Cove,” he says in a soft voice. “I need to leave.”
“That’s right, you do, and don’t come back. Get the fuck out of my sight.” I step away in an uncontrollable crazed state, and stroke my hair; the motion that has become my security blanket.
“Haverty,” my mother approaches him in her usual sensitive way. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Sophia’s gone, mother! Shit, Haverty, give me the keys to the Escalade.”
She turns to Haverty and rubs his shoulder then looks at me, torn as to what to do. I can see now in his wounded eyes that something’s gone terribly wrong. What’s going on?
Our customers start to gather outside as a police car pulls alongside the bar. Haverty has the keys to the Escalade in hand and disappears around the corner without saying another word.
He’s gone, along with my wife.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My finger circles the rim of the coffee mug as I gaze out into the wet streets from the front window of the Scarlett. It’s a habit that appears whenever I’m nervous or distraught, and right now, that’s putting things mildly. To hold Sophia, to have her safe in my arms would be all I’d ever need for the rest of my life.
Rain started to fall and everyone gathered inside to speak to the cops. I went straight for the bar, only to throw the shot glass against the wall in frustration. It was my mother who sat me down with the coffee, and who is staying by my side, rubbing my back, offering comfort and strength to a man who’s nothing more than a helpless prick.
“I should’ve jumped over the balcony to stop him.”
“What, and break your leg? Be realistic,” she says.
“No, I didn’t act. I was my usual asinine self, and then I treated Haverty like a piece of shit.”
My parents and I have all tried calling Haverty’s cell, but haven’t had any luck. He’s never done this before, just walked away without telling me why, and now I have him on my mind, along with Sophia.
The police are still questioning a few of our customers, and most are saying they didn’t see or hear a thing. Everyone’s eyeing me as if I’ve gone mad. I’ve heard of this happening before... someone gets beat up, or kidnapped and people don’t do shit. They stand around like statues, watch, and then walk away as if it were an everyday occurrence. A desensitized generation of robots; deadened and numb.
When my father arrived, he immediately started shutting the place down for the night, and now he’s making sure the remaining people are on their way out.
The cops separated us for questioning, but I overheard Hollis say he didn’t react because he thought ‘the guy’ was just goofing around and didn’t perceive the situation as dangerous, that my wife never called out for help or screamed. What the fuck?
“Just find her, alright? She’s carrying our child.” I cut one of the officers off as I’m being asked the same questions I was twenty minutes ago.
“Mr. Everton, we’re treating this as a high-risk missing persons case, and we’re doing everything...”
“I already told you the guy could’ve killed David Rosen, and now he has my wife. You have the descriptions, isn’t that enough to get in your car and find them?”
The officer I’m speaking to is young and it’s clear he hasn’t been on the job for long. I’d say only a few months. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has to flip through a police procedures manual to figure out what to do next. Shouldn’t there be a crime scene investigator here, or a detective? Why is this so half-assed?
“Does your wife have a cell phone on her?”
“I already told you, she left it inside her purse, which is in my office. No, she doesn’t have her goddamn cell phone on her!”
“Cove, calm down. They’re trying their best to help us,” my mother frowns at my impatience. What does she expect? I can’t stand sitting on my ass doing nothing, but no one will let me leave. I’m trapped and suffocating in this room. “Cove, darling, breathe. Your face is turning red. Breathe.”
The cop raises his hand in the air as a warning that I need to calm down while my father walks over after hearing my disturbed tone.
“Cove, I still have Marcus’s number saved on my cell. The police are trying to contact him now and Detective Ferguson, who’s been working on David’s case, is on his way. If Marcus is the new head of Jameson Industries, he’ll be easy to find. He can’t just abandon the business and leave his house and everything else behind. He’ll have to go to Vegas at some point.”
“Not with Sophia.”
My father doesn’t respond. He stares straight ahead, his eyes on the city streets, thinking, perhaps trying to find the right words to console me, only nothing comes.
“I need to be searching for my wife and not playing the waiting game inside the bar. I’ve never felt so dependent on another person in my life. I need her, and I’m at the mercy of whatever it is that Marcus Wild wants,” I say to my parents.
My father understands, and I realize what I’m feeling must be close to how he felt when Paul would take me away. Only, I have no idea what’s happening to Sophia or where she is, and because of that, my imagination gets the best of me.
“The police should have his real name soon and it will be easier to track him... track them, down.”
I nod and close my eyes while my fingers massage my forehead. The afternoon and evening with Marcus repeats in my head. He asked what Soph was going to do with the money, then he followed us in the city, showed up at the restaurant, and then here. He wanted me, he touched me, asked me about my friendship with Hav, criticized my marriage and the way I treated my wife, and then he took her away. And whatever happened to that guy, Evan, the one that kept texting her. Was he here tonight?
“What?” my father asks. “You’re thinking about something.”
“Something’s off about Marcus. There’s no reason for him to take Sophia. He’s spent the past two days fucking with me, not her.”
“He wants the check, Cove.”
“He could’ve had it earlier. Last night as well. He’s not after the money.”
“Then what?”
Detective Ferguson walks through the door, his black raincoat dripping with water, and his skin’s cold and wet as he shakes my hand.
“I wasn’t serious last night when I asked you if I’d be back here again today, Mr. Everton.”
“This isn’t a joke,” I reply with a face of distress. His smile disappears as he takes
a seat at the table and pulls his wet pants away from his skin.
“You’re right, I apologize. I didn’t mean to treat this subject lightheartedly,” he says. “Let me get to the reason for my visit. You mentioned to an officer earlier that you believe this man who exited with your wife may have killed David Rosen?”
“Marcus didn’t exit with my wife, he pulled her by her wrist out the door and yanked her into a car.”
“Well, we’re getting mixed reports on that scene.”
“I was the one who had my eyes on him the entire time, no one else. My wife pushed him away and he restrained her.”
The detective lifts his chin and scratches his neck with his lips puckered out as if he’s looking for a distraction from my words. It wouldn’t surprise me if his next move were to put his feet up and lean back in his chair.
“As I was saying,” he continues. “There’s no evidence of foul play relating to David’s death and I’m confident the autopsy results will affirm it was a suicide. ‘Marcus Wild’ was found in David’s list of contacts on his phone, and the two were supposed to have a meeting together the evening David took his life. That was also scheduled on David’s cell. We’ve already contacted him, questioned him, and he’s in the clear.”
“Why would he...” I exhale and shake my head. “Damn him, I can’t comprehend...”
My father scoots his chair closer to the table and takes my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. I know both my parents are just as concerned as me, but they’re keeping their wits about themselves for my sake. My emotions are teetering between an angry outburst, in which case I might use my fist to break this new window next to us, or curling into the fetal position under the table and wailing like a baby who’s unable to communicate his needs.
The Detective’s voice pulls me out of the violent and depressing images in my head and back into the conversation.
“Marcus arrived in St. Louis hours after David’s death. It’s all documented with the airlines and he’s on the airport security cameras getting off his flight. I don’t know why you believe he may have murdered David, but it’s not the case.”
