by A M Huff
“Nothing. . . yet. One of Cody’s friends saw the man he left the club with.”
“Has he given a description to the police?”
“No, and I don’t think he will as long as he listens to Cherry Royale and Curtis. As I was saying, based on the description Patrick gave me and what we know about the first guy that disappeared, we’ve narrowed the suspect list down to two guys, Andy and Dean.”
Harrison looked confused. “Why them?”
“Well, after what happened to Scotty, Andy is creepy enough and the way Dean is stalking me, need I say more?”
Harrison let out a loud sigh. “Justus, I don’t like this. You should tell the police what you know and let them handle it.”
“Isn’t that being a little hypocritical? I mean, you didn’t leave it to them to find Thomas.”
“That was different.”
“Dale doesn’t think so. He thinks these disappearances might be tied in with the people who took Thomas.”
Harrison shook his head again. “I seriously doubt it. Judd Hanks and his family are all locked up somewhere.”
“Yeah, but couldn’t it be another—”
“No,” Harrison interrupted. “It would be too risky to run an operation like that this far from the ocean or a seaport. Besides, the Feds assured me that Portland wasn’t on the list of cities where men were being shanghaied.”
“Oh.” Justus nodded in agreement. Inside, his fear that Jack was dead grew stronger. “That’s what I thought, too.”
“You did? So, what do you think happened to them?” Harrison asked with a puzzled look.
Justus took a deep breath and let it out slowly in the hope that it would calm him somehow. It did not. “I don’t think we’ll ever find them—alive, anyway.”
Harrison nodded. It was not the reaction Justus had expected.
“What? You don’t think so either?” he asked.
“I haven’t said anything, but that thought has crossed my mind.”
“It’s also crossed the others, even though Dale won’t admit it.”
“Why? What did he say?”
“It’s not so much what he said as what he did. When Scotty said what we all were thinking, Dale got upset and left. He had tears in his eyes.”
“I see,” Harrison said. “But this is all speculation at this point. Who knows, these disappearances could be totally unrelated. Jack could have had enough of Portland and decided to move on. Those other men, I don’t know. I don’t know them.”
“Yeah,” Justus agreed but inside he could not shake the bad feeling he had.
“Just give it more time,” Harrison said. “Let the police do their thing.”
Justus did not say a word. He turned around and headed for his room upstairs.
“Good night,” Harrison called after him.
Chapter Ten
The week seemed to fly by for Justus. Friday arrived and it was time to put their plan into action. The gang had agreed to meet at Stumptown, a decision that pleased Dale and he had not been shy about letting everyone know it. However, Justus was not sure if Dale understood the purpose of their return or how much help he would be in executing their plan. At least he could count on Scotty and Marcus.
The heavy beat of the classic dance music that greeted Justus when he entered the club felt like a giant hug. It was a far better feeling than the one the country-western crap at CC’s gave him. He quickly made his way over to the gang’s usual table and sat down. He was the first to arrive.
“What can I get you?” The server was standing on the dance floor and with his hand on the rail.
“A Captain Morgan’s and Coke,” Justus answered.
The server nodded and headed across the club to the bar.
While he waited for his drink and the others to arrive, Justus looked around the club at the other men who were standing about with their drinks in hand. Their faces were familiar even though he did not know most of their names. He had seen them here and thought of them as regulars. There was no sign of either Dean or Andy.
“Here you go,” the server said, setting the plain glass tumbler on the table in front of Justus. “So where are your friends tonight?” he asked.
Justus quickly pulled his money out of the pocket of his tight, skinny jeans and unfolded it for the server. “They’re coming.”
“No pun intended?” the server grinned.
Justus laughed and gave the server the once over. “We’ll see.”
“Okay. Let me know when you’re ready. . . for another drink.” He winked and then moved on to the next table.
Justus watched him for a moment, letting his mind undress the guy. He had a nice, well-defined body, in Justus’ head anyway.
“Hey there,” Dale called while he crossed the dance floor with his beer glass in hand. He ducked under the rail, something the bartenders and staff frowned on, and slipped into his chair.
“Well, you seem in a good mood,” Justus greeted him and gave him an air kiss on both cheeks.
“Where’re the others? I thought Scotty and Marcus would have been here by now.”
“Don’t know. Have you tried texting them?”
“Nah,” Dale grunted and took a drink of his beer.
“So, can I count on you to help with our plan?”
“Sure,” Dale answered but his body language did most of the talking. Justus nodded to himself knowingly. Dale was not going to help at all.
“Hi guys,” Scotty said when he arrived at the table. He sat down across from Justus, leaving the chair between him and the rail for Marcus. Marcus loved to keep his eye on the crowd and sitting near the rail to the dance floor gave him a better vantage point.
The server came back and took Scotty’s order. He winked at Justus again which caused Justus’ groin to stir even though it was confined in his tight jeans.
Marcus arrived after the second round of drinks. He offered no excuse for being late but settled into his usual place at the table. Justus noticed that he seemed distracted and not by some hot guy somewhere in the club.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything’s great,” Marcus answered. Justus did not believe him but decided not to pursue it. Instead, he watched Marcus look around the club. “Are you sure they’re going to show?”
“I hope so,” Justus answered. He glanced at the bar and felt less positive. There was still no sign of either of them.
The four drank and chatted. The more Dale drank the more he tried to tempt Scotty into having something stronger than Coke. To Justus’ surprise, Marcus did not leave the table to seek out his next conquest. He seemed content to stay with the group, something he had never done before. It was beginning to worry Justus.
Dean walked into the club at half past ten. Marcus was the first to notice and silenced the others. They watched while Dean walked straight to the bar and collected a drink. Justus felt his body vibrate deep inside.
“Okay, who’s going to do it?” Marcus asked.
No one moved or answered. The three looked at Justus.
“He’s your friend—”
“No, he’s not!” Justus snapped at Dale. “But since you’re all chicken, I guess I’ll do it.”
Justus took out his phone and readied the camera app. He tried to discreetly hold it up from his seat but in the dim light, he was too far away to get a clear shot.
“Be right back,” he said and stood up.
“Be careful,” Scotty warned. “If you’re caught, they’ll confiscate your phone or throw you out.”
“I will,” Justus answered. He slowly made his way through the crowd, keeping one eye on Dean and the other on the bouncer by the front door. Dean turned and began talking with someone beside him which gave Justus a good shot of his face. Justus held up his phone and readied his finger over the camera icon while he waited for it to focus on Dean.
“Oh no, you don’t!” someone said from beside him and grabbed the phone out of his hand.
Justus turned sh
arply and looked at the person. It was the cute server.
“Give me back my phone.”
“You know the rules,” the server said through tight lips. “No pictures.”
“I know,” Justus admitted. “But I need to get this shot. He could be the guy responsible for the disappearances.”
“Disappearances?” the server repeated and looked past Justus in Dean’s direction. “Are you sure?”
“No, but I know someone who is and I need to show him that guy’s picture.”
The server looked at Justus and smiled. “I’m sorry. Those are the rules and if I let you do it, then I could be fired.”
“Fine. I won’t take his picture,” Justus answered. “You can give me back my phone.”
The server slipped the phone down the front of his rather tight jeans. “You can claim it later,” he said and winked at Justus. “See me in the back hall in twenty minutes. I have a break then.”
Justus’ jaw dropped and his mouth gaped. He could not believe this guy.
“Fine,” he answered and headed back to the table.
“So?” Scotty asked. “Did you get it?”
“No,” Justus said and dropped down into his chair. “That server caught me and took my phone.”
“You were warned,” Dale said in an I-told-you-so sort of way, but Scotty, not Dale, had been the one to warn him.
Justus ignored him and looked at the empty place next to Scotty. “Where’s Marcus?”
“Don’t know. He left right after you did,” Scotty answered.
“Got it,” Marcus said while he walked up to the table and took his place again.
“What? How?” Justus asked.
“While you and the server were playing hide the phone, I was able to get a clean shot of your guy.”
“Great!” Justus said. “Text it to us—No, not yet. The server has my phone in his pants and I have it set on vibrate.”
Dale laughed and pulled out his phone. His thumbs rapidly tapped at the screen.
“What are you doing?” Justus asked.
“You’ll see,” he answered. “Where’s the server?” Dale looked around. “There he is.”
Before Justus could grab Dale’s phone, Dale hit the send icon. Justus looked at the server who stood by a table balancing a tray of drinks in one hand. Suddenly the server jumped and the tray tipped. The glasses fell over, splashing the nearest guy who jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair. There were words exchanged, but Justus could not hear what was said. The server quickly grabbed the bar towel that hung from his belt and handed it to the man. He glanced over his shoulder toward Justus and glared before stooping to clean up the mess.
Dale roared with laughter. Justus punched him hard in the shoulder.
“You trying to get me kicked out of here, asshole?” he snapped.
“Hey, he’s the one who put your phone down his pants.”
“I don’t care. That’s not funny,” Justus said while Dale continued to laugh.
When the server finished cleaning up the floor and replacing the drinks, he walked over to their table.
“That will be twenty-five dollars,” he said and held out his hand.
“For what?” Dale asked in a snide tone.
“For the drinks you caused me to drop.”
“Hey that’s on you,” Dale answered and laughed at his own pun.
“It’s either that or you all get thrown out of here and banned from ever coming back.”
“You can’t do that,” Dale objected.
“Wanna bet?” the server answered.
“Pay him,” Marcus said, looking straight at Dale.
“Me? Why me?”
“You sent the text,” Justus answered.
Dale looked around the table. “Fine,” he answered and pulled out his wallet. He handed the server the money.
The server reached down the front of his jeans and pulled out Justus’ phone. He set it on the table. “Forget about meeting me,” he said. “Next time, I’ll call the bouncer.” He walked away.
“That was really stupid,” Scotty said, turning to look at Dale.
“Why? It didn’t cost you anything and Justus got his phone back.”
“Yeah, but you nearly got us all kicked out of here.”
“Eh, forget it. He wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Marcus spoke up. “We still have to get a picture of Scotty’s Andy. Look around. Do you see him?”
It was nearly closing time and Andy had not showed up. Justus felt good that they had gotten Dean’s pic. He could find Patrick and show him that at least.
“I’m going to call it a night,” Scotty said and started to put on his jacket.
“Yeah, me too,” Marcus said. “Need a cab, Dale?”
Dale looked up with half-closed, glassy eyes. “Huh?” he grunted.
“I take that as a yes,” Marcus answered.
“I’ll take him home,” Justus offered.
“Okay,” Marcus said while he stood up.
The four made their way outside to the quiet of the street. They said their goodbyes and headed off in different directions. Justus helped Dale into the passenger seat of his car.
“I can drive,” Dale slurred and leaned toward the steering wheel.
“Spoken like a true drunk,” Justus said with a hint of anger in his tone. He shut the passenger door and hurried around to the driver’s side.
“Hi, Justus,” a deep voice said from the shadows.
Justus recognized it immediately and shuddered. He looked up right when Dean stepped out of the shadows.
“Picking up drunks now?” Dean asked, sounding a bit hostile.
“No. I’m taking my friend Dale home. You remember him.”
Dean bent down and looked thought the window. “Ah, yes,” he said and laughed. “Had a little too much tonight.”
“And every week since one of our friends went missing, but I suppose you have no idea about that,” Justus said in an accusing sort of tone. He felt a little bolder with the car between them.
Dean furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, I don’t. I heard talk about some guys. When? What happened?” he asked.
Justus heard the concern in Dean’s voice. It sounded sincere and for a moment threw him off. He did not know what to say. Dale suddenly honked the horn and caused both Justus and Dean to jump.
“I’ll let you go,” Dean said. “Good night, drive carefully.”
Justus did not respond. He threw the driver’s door open. “Get back over there,” he said while he pushed Dale back over onto the passenger’s side. He slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Looking out the passenger window, he did not see any sign of Dean. He was gone.
It was well past four in the morning when Justus pulled up to the curb in front of Harrison’s house in Northeast Portland. He shut off the engine and sat for a moment listening to the quiet and looking around the neighborhood. Everything seemed peaceful, with the still cars parked in the many driveways and against the curb, and the dark windows of the houses. In the distance, Justus spotted someone on a bicycle coming toward him. He watched the paperboy tossing his load of newspapers one at a time while he rode up the street. Justus stepped out of his car and waited on the curb.
“Morning,” he called as the boy drew near and readied to throw Harrison’s paper toward the house.
The boy was startled. He swerved and for a moment lost his balance, but righted himself at the last moment before falling over.
“Sorry,” Justus apologized and felt bad for the boy.
The boy threw the paper but did not respond. It landed on the walk behind Justus. Then he pedaled away a little faster.
Justus turned around and picked up the paper. While he made is way up the walk, he fumbled with his keys. It was not until he started up the front steps that he noticed a light on inside. That’s odd. Harrison never leaves a light on for me. Opening the front door, Justus heard a raised voice coming from the k
itchen. Harrison sounded angry at someone. Justus slowly closed and locked the front door behind him.
“I don’t care what you believe. I told you, I haven’t heard from her,” Harrison shouted.
Justus cringed. He tiptoed toward the stairs. The floor creaked loudly and he stopped. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Harrison stood leaning against the archway between the kitchen and dining room with the telephone to his ear. He nodded when their eyes met and then stood up sharply.
“Why would I do that?” he snapped at the caller. “Don’t give me that, you know damned well you’re not innocent. How many times—I don’t care if you are their father. That doesn’t give you the right to lay a hand on them. —You’re right, I wasn’t there and you should be thankful I wasn’t because chief of police or not—Oh grow up, little man.” Harrison sneered then disconnected the call. He walked back into the dining room and slammed his cell phone face down on the table.
Justus put off going upstairs and slowly walked over to the dining room. He stood behind his chair at the end of the table and put his hands on its back.
“I’d hate to be the person on the other end,” he said and tried to smile. “I take it that was your brother-in-law?”
Harrison nodded and took a deep breath. “That’s right,” he said. “He still can’t get it through his pea brain that I don’t know where Danika is. He thinks I’m lying.”
“Why did he call so early?” Justus responded, not knowing what else to say.
“He was out drinking with his buddies, and then called me, drunk,” Harrison said and shook his head. “He thought if he caught me off guard I might slip and tell him where she is. That’s not going to happen!” he shouted at the dead phone on the table.
“Because you don’t know where she is, right?” Justus asked.
Harrison looked at him. “No, I don’t know where she is,” he answered in a calm but worried tone. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell him.”
“I guess it’s a good thing he’s calling you—”
“What?” Harrison snapped and gave Justus a sharp look.
“It means he has no clue where she is either. So she’s safe.”
“Oh,” Harrison said. The creases between his eyebrows relaxed and his eyes sparkled a bit in the dim light of the chandelier. “You’re right.” He grinned. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”