by A M Huff
Harrison gave Justus a look that reminded him of his father. It was a look that his father gave whenever he knew Justus was not telling the truth.
“I’ll be fine in a minute. Please take that flower out of here.”
Harrison seemed to hesitate for a moment but finally picked up the vase. “Okay,” he said. “If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.”
Justus watched him leave and with him, the flower. He sat back in the chair and took several deep breaths before trying to stand up again. He walked around to his desk and sat down again. He reached for the telephone to call Scotty but realized it was too early. Scotty did not start work until nine. Instead, he switched his CD player on. Instantly the room was filled with the sound of Anita Ward’s voice belting out a ‘70s disco song that sounded like an old telephone company ad. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the music erase his stress.
Time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Justus busied himself refiling stacks of account folders and logging them into his computer system. It was not until Harrison stuck his head in the doorway and told him it was time for lunch that he realized he was hungry.
The two crowded into the elevator and headed down to the main floor, to the small café in the indoor courtyard. Ever since Justus started working with Harrison, the two of them had lunch together. Always at the same little café and always the same thing: chicken rice bowl, no veggie, light sauce, and a large Coke. Justus never tired of the food or desired to change it up. He liked it. It tasted good. Plus, most days he was able to get Harrison to pay for it.
He snagged a table by the window of a boutique store that sold incense, candles, and perfumed oils. One of the employees was taking down the Saint Patrick’s Day decorations and hanging up paper bunny rabbits with baskets and mesh eggs of various sizes and colors. He waved at the young man who smiled back.
Harrison returned carrying a tray with two plastic bowls and two large cups of Coke. He set the tray on the table.
“Friend of yours?” he asked.
“I saw him at the club once and no, we didn’t hook up,” Justus quickly added.
“I never said you did,” Harrison said, sounding a bit defensive. He pulled out a chair across from Justus and sat down with his back to the window. “Speaking of the club, are you still planning going out tonight?”
“Yes,” Justus answered.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, what about Dean? Isn’t he going to be there?”
“Probably, but I’m gonna see if I can talk the guys into going to CC’s instead.”
“That would probably be a good idea.” Harrison nodded. He took a drink of his Coke.
Justus looked at Harrison and a smile spread slowly across his lips. “You have no idea what CC’s is, do you?”
Harrison looked up at Justus. He shook his head. “No, not really.”
“It’s a country-western club on 12th across from the Presbyterian Church. It’s not as busy as Stumptown and the music isn’t my taste, but we can still have a fun time.”
“I see,” Harrison answered. “So, have you talked to any of them yet?”
“I tried calling Scotty, but he didn’t answer. He’s probably busy. I can’t call Dale at work. One day you’ll have to meet his boss. He’s really hot. He has a long—”
“Okay, eating here,” Harrison interrupted. He held up his fork covered in rice and teriyaki sauce.
“I wasn’t going to say anything bad. His boss has a long list of rules for everyone and one of his rules is no personal phone calls, texting, or emailing. What did you think I was going to say?” Justus grinned when he noticed Harrison was blushing.
“Never mind. So, what about your friend Mark?”
“You mean Marcus?” Justus corrected. “I haven’t been able to reach him. He’s not answering at home or at work.”
“Have any of the guys talked to him?” Harrison asked.
“I don’t know, I haven’t asked. I’ll see him tonight,” Justus answered. “So, change of subject, have you heard from Dani yet?”
“No.” Harrison sat back in his chair. “I got an email from Robert though. He still insists that I know where she is and has threatened to have my phone records subpoenaed.”
“Can he do that?”
“I don’t really know,” Harrison answered. “But, then again, I don’t really care. Let’s eat.”
Justus knew Harrison too well. He knew even though Harrison claimed otherwise that he was worried, worried about Dani and about what her husband would do. He took a sip of his Coke and continued to eat his lunch.
Chapter Nine
For the second time that week, Justus parked his car in front of the Presbyterian Church on SW 12th Avenue. It was not hard to get Scotty to agree to change venues for their Friday night get-together after his ordeal the previous Monday, but convincing Dale took some doing. After that, Justus sent a text to Marcus.
When Justus opened the solid wooden door to the nightclub, he was immediately struck by the twang of some country-western singer bemoaning the loss of a love or his broken-down pickup, Justus was not sure. This was not his favorite music. He walked up to the bar and, after showing his ID to the bartender, ordered a rum and Coke.
While he waited for his drink he looked around. CC’s décor was rustic like Stumptown’s but featured pub tables made of small wagon wheels topped with round glass. Saddles were hung on the wooden fence that separated a small dance floor from the sitting areas on both sides. Modified kerosene lanterns with amber lightbulbs hung from large nails hammered into the sides of the decorative wooden support pillars. As tacky as it was, it was a welcome change for Justus considering what he had been through that morning.
The bartender set a rum and Coke down on the bar and quickly made change for Justus’ twenty. Justus stuffed the change into his pocket and picked up his drink. He looked around the club for his friends and spotted them across the room.
Marcus was seated beside Scotty and the two were talking. Dale sat across from them with a sour look on his face.
“Hi guys,” Justus greeted. He pulled out the empty chair next to Dale and sat down.
“I still don’t see why we had to change and come here for our night out?” Dale grumbled.
“I explained it to you on the phone,” Justus answered, not in the mood to go over it again.
“Yeah, well, shouldn’t we have voted on it or something?” Dale continued.
“No one is forcing you to come here. Justus is being stalked by a crazy man,” Scotty answered in Justus’ defense.
“What?” Marcus gasped.
“It’s a long story, but what Scotty said is true,” Justus admitted and then gave them a quick, abbreviated version of what had gone down that morning. “Dean has been sending me flowers and today even showed up where I work.”
“If he’s bothering you, why don’t you go to the police?” Marcus asked.
“A lot of good that would do. They can’t even find Jack or the other two missing guys. They won’t do anything.”
“True,” Dale agreed. “So, speaking of Jack, what are we going to do? How are we going to find him?”
“What can we do?” Marcus asked. “We don’t have any suspects yet.”
“Well, Justus said the man has dark hair and bought drinks for that Cody guy,” Scotty spoke up. “Based on that and what happened to me, my money is on Andy.”
“We can’t rule out Dean, either,” Justus added.
“But we need more to go on than that,” Marcus said and shoulder bumped Scotty beside him. “We need more proof, maybe someone who could positively identify the guy.”
“Patrick,” Justus spoke up.
“Patrick? Who’s Patrick?” Dale asked.
“He saw the guy Cody left with,” Justus answered and looked around the club. Across the dance floor he spotted Curtis talking to a cowboy. “Be right back.”
Before anyone could stop him, Justus jumped up and headed across the club. Weaving around the cluster
s of men standing about, Justus reached the other side of the dance floor but lost sight of Curtis.
“Damn!” He looked around and then approached the bartender. “Hey, did you see where Curtis went?”
The bartender continued to fill a tall mug with tap beer. He scanned the crowd then shook his head.
“Thanks.” Justus returned to the table where his friends were seated.
“What was that about?” Scotty asked.
“Last Monday, when I heard about that Cody guy, his two friends Curtis and Patrick were coming here. I saw Curtis a second ago and tried to catch him. Maybe he knows something.”
“Did he?” Dale asked.
“I lost him,” Justus admitted.
“Well, before we go around asking people for information, maybe we should get a picture of Andy and Dean to show them?” Scotty suggested.
“How can we do that?” Justus asked. “They don’t allow people to take photos in the clubs. It’s a sort of a what-happens-in-here-stays-in-here rule.”
“Well, they can’t stop all of us. We can all try and whoever gets a pic can text it to the rest,” Scotty explained.
“I’m good with that,” Marcus spoke up, a bit distracted by someone across the room. “See you later,” he said and left with his drink in hand.
“Well, there he goes again,” Dale groused.
“What do you care?” Scotty snapped.
“I thought we were supposed to hang together tonight,” Dale answered.
“Come on guys, don’t argue,” Justus interrupted. “We all know what Marcus is like. We can still have fun.”
“Whatever,” Dale said and took a drink of his beer.
“I need another Coke,” Scotty said and looked around for the server.
“When are you going to have something stronger?” Dale asked.
“I don’t need anything stronger,” Scotty answered. “Alcohol makes my head hurt.”
“Then you aren’t drinking enough of it,” Dale teased, though it sounded more like a jab to Justus. “Honestly, how do you ever expect to find yourself a man and get laid if you don’t loosen up a bit?”
“I don’t need a man,” Scotty said while he stared at someone or something across the bar. Justus turned to see but only saw Marcus talking to some rugged cowboy-type guy. He looked back at Scotty who appeared sullen.
“What are you doing in a gay bar then?” Dale continued.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scotty asked.
“The only reason to come here is to pick up a guy.”
“Maybe for you, but I like watching people and the music and—”
“A voyeur!” Dale shrieked and laughed. “You little perve, you! All this innocent act—”
“I didn’t mean like that,” Scotty snapped. He turned and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “I’ve had enough. I’m going home.”
“No, wait!” Justus said. He grabbed Scotty’s arm and stopped him.
“I’m sorry, I was only teasing,” Dale said.
“Well, it didn’t sound like it.”
“Scott, you know I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe I don’t,” Scotty answered.
“I’m sorry,” Dale apologized and then quickly took a gulp of his beer. Justus figured it was to wash the bitter taste of apology out of his mouth. He laughed inside.
Scotty stood with his jacket in one hand and Justus’ hand still gripping his other forearm. “Fine,” he said and returned to his seat.
Justus spotted a server heading toward them. He signaled for him.
“Howdy, gents, what can I get you?” the blonde-haired man asked. Even though he was dressed like a cowboy, Justus thought he looked too pretty to be a real one.
“I’ll have a rum and Coke,” Justus ordered.
“Another beer for me,” Dale said.
“And a Coke for our friend,” Justus added and looked pleadingly at Scotty.
Scotty slipped his coat over the back of his chair.
“Coming right up,” the server said before heading back to the bar.
“Thanks, Scotty,” Justus said.
“No problem.” Scotty sounded depressed.
“Wasn’t the Saint Paddy’s Day Bash crazy?” Dale spoke up.
Justus’ mouth dropped open and he elbowed Dale in the ribs.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Dale grimaced and rubbed his side.
“We’re not talking about that,” Justus snapped.
“Oh! I totally forgot. I’m sorry, Scotty.”
“Forget it. I’m over it,” Scotty said indifferently and shrugged his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t be,” Dale continued. “I mean, talk about your psycho, Justus, Scotty’s guy should be at the top of the list!”
“Really, Dale?” Justus said, sounding exasperated.
“Yes. The way he lured poor Scotty to his house in the West Hills, the way his mood changed when Scotty put on the brakes, that screams crazy man.”
The image of Andy outside Stumptown flashed in Justus’ mind. Andy did have dark hair and was not too bad looking, but there was nothing memorable about him. Maybe Dale had something?
“Here you go,” the server greeted, interrupting Justus’ thoughts and Dale’s rambling. The server began setting the drinks on the table.
The three pulled out their money to pay for them. The server took Justus’ and Dale’s money, but when Scotty tried to pay for his, the server held up his hand.
“No, it’s on the house.”
“But—”
“We here at CC’s let designated drivers drink for free, as long as it’s nonalcoholic.”
“Well, thank you,” Scotty said, sounding surprised and pleased at the same time.
“Don’t mention it,” the server smiled and gave him a wink before heading off to another table.
“Looks like you hit the jackpot here,” Justus said.
Scotty shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his Coke. His cheeks turned a little darker shade of pink.
“So, what do you think?” Dale asked.
“About what?” Scotty asked.
“About Andy?”
“Can we drop it for now,” Justus interrupted.
“Fine,” Dale said but sounded anything but. “What do you suppose he does with them?”
“Damn it, Dale,” Justus groaned.
“Hey, we need to talk about this if we’re going to find them.”
Justus looked at Scotty who gave him a nod. “Okay. I don’t know.”
“Well, didn’t you say the guys who abducted Harrison’s friend were part of a ring that sold their captives into slavery on fishing boats?”
“Yes, but we’re not on the coast,” Justus said.
“We don’t have to be. He could haul them off to Astoria or someplace in the back of a semi or moving van.”
Scotty’s eyes widened.
“No, I don’t think it’s the same thing,” Justus answered. “As much as I hate to think about it, I think it may be worse.”
“Worse? What could be worse than being knee deep in fish guts in the bottom of a stinking ship?” Dale asked.
“Dead,” Scotty said, the color draining from his cheeks.
Justus nodded. He was glad he did not have to say the word. It had been in his mind ever since day one. He had no reason to think it. It had merely been a gut feeling he had kept to himself, until now.
Dale glared at Scotty. His jaw tightened and his lips pressed thin in an angry frown. Only his eyes, damp with tears, showed his true feelings.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped. “Neither of you!”
He jumped to his feet, grabbed his drink and pushed through the small crowd.
“Dale!” Scotty called to him, but Dale did not respond.
Justus watched him walk over to the bar and gulp down the rest of his drink before giving the bartender his empty glass. They said something to each other and Dale turned around and left the club.
&
nbsp; “I didn’t mean to upset him,” Scotty said.
“It’s okay. I think we’re all thinking the same thing. Only we didn’t want to admit it out loud.”
“Do you really think Andy has something to do with this?”
“I don’t know. You did say his house smelled, so maybe. But, it could be Dean.”
“Why are all the pyschos so hot?”
“I don’t know. Most killers are. I remember when I was in middle school; there were two girls in my class who were murdered by a neighbor. It was all over the news. He was even interviewed when the first girl disappeared. I don’t remember his connection to them but he killed them and then buried them under his patio.”
“Under his patio?”
“Yeah,” Justus agreed. He drank the rest of his rum and Coke. “He told the police he was enlarging his cement patio when they did a search of his property. They had no idea he was really covering up where they were buried.”
“How’d the police figure it out?” Scotty asked.
“I don’t remember. I think he was turned in by a family member or someone. The police never suspected him as far as I knew.”
“Do you think Dale remembers that?”
Justus looked across the club at the door. “I have no idea.”
The clock in the dining room struck eleven when Justus walked through the front door. The light in the living room was on and the TV was airing Harrison’s favorite movie.
“You’re home early,” Harrison commented from the sofa. “Is everything okay?”
Justus walked over to the archway and leaned against the threshold. His arms were folded over his chest. Harrison sat up and turned the volume on the TV down.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“That didn’t sound like it. What happened? Did you run into Dean again?”
“No. Thank heaven. Remember I told you about a third guy who’s missing?”
Harrison nodded. He turned the TV off and set the remote on the coffee table.
“Since the police don’t seem to be doing anything about it, the guys and I were talking about what we should do.”
Harrison started shaking his head. “No. No,” he said. “Justus, stay out of it.”
“I think it’s a little late for that.”
“Why? What have you done?”