by Nella Tyler
“Very nice,” I tell her. “How was he?”
“Good enough to take home to mama,” she says loud enough for Carl to hear.
She comes across as a little overbearing to those who don’t know her, but she’s sweet to me. Carl beams a smile in her direction.
“I guess I just need someone to talk to,” I tell her as things take a more serious turn.
“What’s wrong, Trish?”
“My sister Sasha has gone missing. No one has any idea what happened to her.”
A tear escapes my eye.
“I am so sorry to hear that.”
“I just hate not knowing.”
She pats me on the shoulder.
“I know, honey, keep your head up, she’s bound to turn up somewhere.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say honestly.
“She will, I know it. Are the cops involved?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Hell, has it even been forty-eight hours?” she groans.
“No, not yet.”
“Damn. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for you. What a fucking shame. I will pray for your family.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
“Well, I didn’t mean to tear you away from anything, I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“You didn’t tear me away from anything. I’m glad you called.”
“Me too. But I really gotta run.”
“Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t!” I tell her.
I scrunch the pocketed napkin in my grubby little hands as a reminder that I’m here to investigate my sister’s disappearance. Teresa is a good broadcaster in that she gossips. Hopefully, she will be able to get the word out.
I sit on my bike patiently waiting for the Google Maps app to open up. I type in 109 Bober Street and let it lead me to my destination.
I say to myself, “If this asshole has my sister, I’m going to rip his fucking head off.”
I speed off, but slowly so that I can hear the computerized voice’s navigational turn-by-turn directions.
Thirteen minutes pass and I am at the rear of a boarded up looking shanty. It’s so back woods looking that I find myself curious if there’s electricity in there. It has one window completely ravaged by dust, but from a couple of feet closer, I can see a light inside.
I turn my headlight off and pull the key from the ignition. I leave the bike where it sits and walk over to the small building. In the shadows, I overhear two men talking as their voices get louder and louder. I crouch down in the shadow of a giant bush and peer through its rough branches to see Les and Frank.
Their ache in frustration and I try to inch closer, but make a noise in the process.
“Anyone out there?” Les asks, moving closer to my hiding spot.
I still myself and wait it out.
“It’s probably some animal, dipshit,” Frank tells him.
“You’re probably right,” Les says as he moves his blackened boot from my view.
They enter the place and turn on the rest of the lights.
I try to take a peek into the filthy window, but think better of it. I inch my way back to my Harley and push her down the dirt road. We arrive at a safe distance where the roar of her engine won’t set anyone off.
I turn the key in the ignition and ride away slowly.
When I get back to the Hinton Township sign, I pause to look around. Maybe Sasha is lying in a ditch somewhere? I take out my phone and see that I have a missed call. It’s Rodney’s number.
I dial his number before taking off.
“Hey,” I tell him sweetly.
“Hey yourself. Are we still on for our date? I mean, with everything going on?”
“Yes, we are still on for our date.”
“Oh, okay, ‘cause I’m at the Corkscrew now and I don’t see you anywhere.”
“Our date is Friday, silly,” I joke.
“It is Friday,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Fuck, it is Friday, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” he chuckles.
I shake my head silently and say, “Alright, I’m not far from there, I’ll be there soon.”
“Great.”
“Bye,” I tell him before I disconnect the call.
Riding through the streets, I feel the wind on my skin as I near the Corkscrew. I saw the familiar lit up blue screw in the window and a red LED “Beer” sign.
I walk in the door and scan the room. I really don’t want to be here, but I also don’t want Rodney giving me away to my father. I need to find out the type of person he is and having drinks is the perfect way to break down that barrier. Who knows, maybe he’ll end up helping me in my mission.
“Hey!” Lisa asks from behind the bar. Her hair is done up like it’s still the eighties and her makeup makes her look like she’s fifteen. There are roughly fifteen people in the bar, aside from myself. I study their faces, looking for Rodney.
From behind, a man wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes and take in his scent. It’s Rodney.
“Hey there hot stuff,” I say.
“Hey there yourself. Thought you forgot about me.”
He turns my body to face him and his eyes sear a hole right through me. He keeps his hands firmly on my hips and I realize that I want them there.
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I tell him.
“I can understand that.”
“What are we having?” I ask.
“My guess is that you’re probably a whiskey girl. Jack Daniels, maybe?”
He takes my smile as his answer. His body is breathtaking and being this close to him makes me want to do nasty things with him.
“Care to sit down at the bar or at one of the tables?” he asks.
I glance around the bar and point to a table off to the back of the place.
“Alright, I’ll bring our drinks over.”
I walk to the table and sit down, toying with my cell phone.
He strides on over and places two rocks glasses on the table.
“Don’t tell me that you’re drinking Jack, too?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Copycat.”
His plump lips form a smile.
I feel a bit woozy as the effects of the drink take hold of me. It makes me want to kiss his lips just to feel how soft they are. He’s delicious, I gather and his body is made of steel.
“So, how long has your father been in charge of the Dragons?”
“He’s a founding member, so like ten years,” I say.
“Never been challenged, huh?”
“No, his members are all one hundred percent loyal to him.”
“Your mom is interesting, but I take it she’s not a member?”
“No, she never asked to be a part of the club. Instead, she runs the family store down the way.”
“I just feel terrible that your sister is caught up in the mix,” he reveals.
“You think it’s club related?” I press.
“It very well could be. You never know.”
“She’s so young and innocent; she has no idea about anything to do with the club.”
“Whoever took her is a fucking monster,” he exclaimed.
“I’ll drink to that.”
I raise my glass with his and we clink them together. I throw back the rest of my Jack Daniels and grab his glass for a refill. I feel his eyes on me as I walk away.
Returning to the table, drinks in hand, I sit back down and nudge his over to him. He puts his cell phone down on the table and turns his full attention to me.
“So, I barely know anything about you,” he confesses.
“What would you like to know?”
I hate these questions and usually prefer to dispense with the niceties.
“Anything, really.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s see.”
I search my brain for little known tidbits about myself, but I find that I’m not that interesting.
“I used to be a cheerleader at the high school.”
“Ooh, do you still have the outfit?”
“Yeah, probably,” I brush him off. “I like Coke instead of Pepsi, country music and I’m very competitive. What about you?”
“I’m not much for anything but riding my bike and taking care of business. What have you done for work in the past?”
“I’ve been everything from a cashier and a waitress to a bill collector and a barmaid,” I list off my previous jobs.
“Would it have been easier to ask what you haven’t done?” He jokes.
“Yeah, probably.”
I take a drink of my Jack and he does the same.
“Are you afraid of anything?”
I think about my poor sister wherever she is.
“I think I’m most afraid of what’s going to happen to Sasha if we don’t find her in time.”
He places his hands over mine and holds them tightly.
“We are going to find your sister - that I can promise you.”
“I certainly hope so, I just wish that I could help. I feel so fucking useless,” I confide.
“I wish there’s something I could do about that.”
“There is,” I start with a rant. “You could just let me help out and keep your mouth shut about it.”
“And if your dad finds out? Then I’m out of the club on my ass and probably with an epic ass kicking on top of that. No thank you.”
“So, you basically tell me to stand up to my father, but you can’t follow your own advice?”
“He’s not my father, Trish. If you stand up to him, he can walk away or choose to respect your wishes. If I stand up to him, he’ll kick my ass out.”
“I guess you’re right,” I cave.
“I’m sorry. Let’s change the subject.”
“Alright. What do you want to talk about?”
“When that Missy chick came storming in the club, that was fucking crazy.”
“I wasn’t there, remember? My dad told me to get out.”
“She came in there like a bat outta hell demanding to talk to your father. Your mother stepped in and basically told her to go fuck herself.”
“Yeah, well that’s my mother for ya.”
“It was fucking hilarious,” he chuckles.
“I did run into Missy on the way out. She’s terrified about Sasha coming up missing. I told her I’d let her know anything I find out.”
“Won’t that piss your mother off?”
“Probably, but don’t you think it’s cruel to keep things from her? It’s her daughter, for fucks sake.”
“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.”
I lean in closer to Rodney and tease, “So, you really haven’t told me anything about yourself. I feel like I’ve been talking about myself all night.”
“There really isn’t much to know.”
“So that’s it?”
“Would you prefer I go into all of the boring details about where I grew up and the schools I went to? Or can’t I just tell you that it was of no special importance?”
“I just don’t get all of this secrecy. I like you, Rodney. Is that so bad?”
“A beautiful girl likes me and she wants to know if that’s so bad? Are you serious? I’m not trying to be secretive; it’s just that it’s all boring noise as far as I’m concerned.”
“That ‘noise’ you’re talking about is how normal people get to know each other better.”
I punctuate the word ‘noise’ in finger quotes, but he doesn’t appear amused at all.
He caresses my chin and lets his fingers glide against my cheek. I feel a rush of warmth all over my body. He stands over the table and reaches his mouth to mine. As he presses his fleshy lips to mine, I feel a tingle from my stomach to my nether regions. His lips part and he slips his tongue into my mouth. Together, they twist and move in a rhythmic motion.
I gently pull away with my temperature a few degrees higher.
“I really need to go,” I tell him.
“You do?”
“Yes. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while my sister is out there scared out of her fucking mind.”
“I know, babe. We are going to find her, I promise you that.”
“Someone better, because I can’t really focus on anything else,” I declare.
I focus on the napkin with Les’ address on it still sitting in my pocket.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say.
“Sounds good. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a phenomenal kisser?”
His charm wins me over again and I find that I can’t stay mad at him. It really isn’t his fault that my dad isn’t letting me help.
I smile in response and he bats those sexy eyelashes at me. I walk out of the bar leaving him inside and hop on my bike. I need to get home and to my laptop where I can utilize my investigative skills. I have skip-traced people in the past, so searches like these are second nature.
I take the winding roads slowly as I head back home. Once there, I hit the numbers on the keypad to raise the garage door. Safely inside, I hit the button to bring the doors down and head upstairs.
“I knew I should’ve given you an escort,” my father rants as I walk by. “Where were you?”
“Out with friends. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m grown and I can take care of myself.”
“Famous last words,” he chides.
Saving myself the misery of another argument, I say, “I need sleep, dad. I’m fine. Let’s all concentrate on Sasha, okay?”
He waves me off.
Once upstairs, I fire up the trusty old laptop. I need to find out more information on this Les guy. He’s creepy enough and that whole scene just reeked of something shady.
I navigate the browser to the Hinton County court docket search and begin looking for clues. Once I happen upon the address search, I type in “109 Bober Street” to see if there is a match.
A link pops up with a case number on the following screen.
“Fuckin’ A,” I say to the laptop. I hit pay dirt.
I click the link and find that Les’ full name is Lester Samson. In 2004, he was arrested and jailed for six months for child endangerment.
“Oh my fucking God, I knew this guy was a creep,” I cry out to no one in particular. I send the information to the printer. Lester Samson could be our kidnapper.
I talk to my laptop as I try desperately to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
“So you wanted to get me back to your place, you creep. Maybe you’re not holding Sasha there, but you’ve definitely done something with her.”
To me, his arrest record speaks volumes. I begin another search at the county recorder’s office. Inputting his address into the search field, I find that his shack was bought and paid for in 2005 for the amount of ten thousand dollars.
“Someone didn’t get their money’s worth out of that shithole,” I whisper to my laptop. “I’ll tell my father all about you in the morning, Lester Samson, you piece of shit.”
I close my laptop and hit the sheets. Drifting into a deep sleep, I dream of winning over my father’s trust wholeheartedly. In a dream sequence, I see myself standing in front of the entire club with my dad proudly announcing that I’ve been made a full patch member of the Dragons. In this instance, Sasha is home and all is well.
I wake up sweaty from tossing and turning all night.
I brush my teeth and head downstairs to find I’m alone. Mom is likely at the store and dad is probably at the club. I eat a bowl of cereal before internally discussing my plan of attack.
Maybe this time, my dream would come through to reality. I could divulge the information I have on Lester Samson and my dad would praise me in front of everyone.
I drag my bike outside of the garage and bring the garage door down. I fire up my bike and head to the Lair to lay it all out there for my father to see.
Outside of the Lair, the dirt road is flush with club members sitting ato
p their bikes surrounded by three cars from the Sheriff’s Department.
Waltzing inside like I have the case in the palm of my hand, I see my fellow members answering questions from the cops. There are five male cops accompanied by one woman cop. They go through each of us asking all types of questions to gain further knowledge on my sister’s kidnapping.
Since I have the information to crack the case, I know that my dad wants this kept internally.
“Dad, I need to talk to you,” I say, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Can this wait, Trish? You see the fucking cavalry is here, right?”
He gestures to the back room full of police officers taking names and information.
“This really can’t wait, dad.”
He motions for me to follow him and waves me by in the presence of the female officer. “My daughter,” he tells her as he ushers me inside his office.
“What’s going on that just couldn’t wait?” he growls.
I pull the paperwork from my searches on Lester Samson and set the papers on his desk in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“This is the kidnapper,” I say confidently.
“How the fuck do you know that this is the kidnapper? Did you see your sister? What proof do you have?”
“I went into Hayleyville last night and talked to my best friend Teresa. At one of the bars, I overheard this creepy guy talking about a twelve-year-old girl with blonde hair. He was describing Sasha, dad.”
He listens intently as I continue.
“I got his address and ran it into the criminal history search.”
“And?” He pushes impatiently.
“And he’s had a child endangerment charge against him.”
“That’s your proof? And what were you thinking following this lunatic home? He could’ve snatched you up and we would’ve had no fucking clue. You didn’t think this through.”
He is clearly more upset now.
“What in the hell, Trish? I ask you not to put yourself in harm’s way and the first thing you do is go to Hayleyville? Are you fucking insane?”
His voice grows louder with each statement and he is mad beyond words. If looks could kill, I don’t think I’d be standing here.
“Hayleyville has a record amount of murders in the past ten years and that’s where you go? Go, just go!” he demands.
I open the door. Clearly that wasn’t the response I was expecting.