Making my way upstairs, stripping out of my clothes, I look down at my hard cock. He wants to let out his frustration in other ways. I fist it tight, urging it to go away, but the minute I close my eyes, ready to have my happy ending, I hear my phone ringing from my pocket.
Seeing Mick’s name flash on the screen makes me stop in my tracks.
“Yo.”
“We just got a call from Lori’s mother. She got a phone call from her today. She is freaking out. Called the precinct looking for you, but they called me first.”
“I can be ready in ten. Where should I pick you up?” I’m already rushing around my room, changing into my jeans and T-shirt.
“Um, how about I just meet you at the station in about thirty minutes?” I hear rustling in the background.
“Station, eh? Should I even ask where you are or are we not getting into it now?”
“I’ll see you in thirty.” He hangs up without acknowledging my question.
By the time I make it outside, I’m already running through the details of the case. Lori, age sixteen, started hanging with the wrong crowd, and then one day she just didn’t come home. Her mother hasn’t seen or heard from her since. Until today.
Friends say she’s been in touch with them. But her mother still filed a missing child’s report. The thing is, she’s seventeen, so it’s hard not to consider this might be a case of a teenager just wanting to be out in the world on her own. Her mother said lately she’d become more distant than usual, and her grades began slipping. When she confronted her, they had a big argument that ended in Lori storming out of the house and not coming back.
I throw my truck into reverse and start to back out. I try not to look over at her house, but I fail. I see no movement, nothing. I do notice the blinds are up now.
The place looks so different now than it did a week ago. It went from deserted to looking like it’s coming back to life.
I smile and take my usual route to work, stopping at Starbucks to get my coffee. Yes, I like lattes, sue me.
I make it to work at the same time Mick pulls up. I wait for him to get out of his car before I get out.
He looks like he spent all of three seconds getting dressed.
“Your shirt is buttoned wrong.”
He looks down at his shirt and sees it’s longer on one side than the other.
“Fuck.” He goes about righting his shirt. “I wasn’t expecting to be called in. I was…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I just hope you know what you’re doing.” I make my way over to our unmarked car. I know he’s pissed, which means he is going to want to be the one who does the driving, so I head to the passenger side.
“I know what you’re going to say, so can we just skip this whole bullshit conversation right now?” He pulls into traffic, heading toward the center of town.
“I wasn’t going to say anything. You’re a grown ass man. You know what you’re doing.” I stare straight ahead.
“She says she’s leaving him. I have to believe her.”
“She said that last time, too, didn’t she? Strung you on for four months before she told you she couldn’t do it right then. Then there was your birthday, when she showed up and spent the whole weekend telling you she left him, only to go back home on Monday. Trust me, I remember. It was me who found you after you lost yourself in the bottom of a bottle of Jack. It wasn’t pretty.”
“She said it’s finally time. She loves me.”
I shake my head, knowing this is a game Sandie is playing with him. She’s a fucking bitch if I ever met one. They met in high school, and she latched herself right onto his dick. The problem was that she latched herself onto some rich kid’s dick, too. Played them both until she got knocked up. Thank fuck it turned out to be the other guy’s kid. She’s been stringing him along for the last fucking seven years now.
“I want nothing more than for that to be true. You know this. But it shouldn’t be this hard, Mick.” I want to continue, but knowing that I’m starting to sound a bit too much like Dr. Phil, I back off and keep staring out the window.
When we pull up to the address on the sheet, Lori’s mother’s house, I’m instantly on alert because we’re now in the projects. The five matching apartment buildings are known as Welfare Avenue.
A couple teenagers in the corner are trying to be intimidating and letting us know we’re on their turf, puffing out their chests and taking us in. Right in the middle of the group is the leader of the pack. The two I suspect to be his seconds in charge are right beside him, chewing on toothpicks, sizing us up with their cell phones in their hands.