We open the door, unsurprised the lock is broken, allowing anyone to just walk in. The hallway is dark, with just a few lights working, while most are broken and a few are flickering. The smell of urine burns my nose. We get to the third floor and make our way to the door with the number five on it.
I knock on the door twice, taking a step back while Mick looks over his shoulder, making sure we aren’t going to be ambushed.
We hear the locks clicking open, but neither of us is prepared for the sight we are met with.
A tiny girl, maybe all of five foot one, opens the door, wearing tight booty shorts and a tank top that has seen cleaner days. Brown hair that is at least clean sits in a messy bun on the top of her head.
“Are you the cops?”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you Marissa, Lori’s mom?” I say, flashing her my badge. “May we come in?”
She stands away, holding on to the open door, ushering us in. I’m shocked. Inside it’s completely neat and clean. The furniture looks almost new, and a television sits in the corner. There is a small kitchen with no table, just two stools.
Two bedrooms open to the living room, both rooms looking clean with beds and little furniture. I can tell one is obviously a teenager’s from the posters hanging on the wall.
“Please have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
She’s nervous. I know this because she is wringing her hands.
“We’re good, thanks.” I go to sit down while Mick stands by the kitchen, leaning against the wall.
“So you called in and said Lori got in touch with you?”
“Yes, I got a call on my cell phone sometime after ten a.m. I was asleep, but the minute I heard her ringtone I flew out of bed.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she was fine and to call off the dogs.” She looks between me and Mick.
“You weren’t here when she went missing, right?” Mick asks from his side of the room.
“I was here when she left, but when I got home from work at three a.m. I noticed she hadn’t returned.” She looks down at her hands. “I was working. She usually just texts me, but since we got into a fight the night before I just thought she was pissed off.”
“You’re a stripper, right? Is there any way she got ahold of your drugs or saw something she shouldn’t have?”
I whip my head around to glare at Mick with a clear ‘what the fuck’ expression on my face.
Marissa’s shoulders go back like she’s gearing up for a fight. “Yes, I’m a stripper, but no, I’m not on drugs. You want, we can take a piss test right now and ease your mind, Officer.”
“Won’t be necessary.” I look over at her, then return my glare to Mick, hoping he takes the hint and shuts the fuck up.
“A seventeen-year-old sees her mother as a stripper. You don’t think she’ll follow in your footsteps?” He doesn’t shut up.
“I don’t know, I think her knowing you have to work for things isn’t such a bad lesson. Considering her father left me with his bookie debt of eighty grand and the only way he wouldn’t take it out on us was if I agreed to work for him. I think it’s good showing her you don’t run from your obligations, like her weasel father did, but instead you keep fighting and working to earn the things you want. So, if you came here just to pass judgment on me and my job while not taking my daughter’s disappearance seriously, I think we’ve both wasted our time.” Marissa goes to stand up, her hands shaking.
I grab her wrist, stopping her.
“I’m going to apologize for my partner and his mood today. Please know finding your daughter is very important to us.”
She looks, or rather glares, at Mick, waiting for him to say something, but he just shrugs his shoulders.
“I asked around at work and there’s a new guy who has been coming in. I don’t have his name yet, but he’s been in a couple of times. He is also in scumbag, Bentley’s, crew. Owns a pawn shop, isn’t fair, and sells whatever you bring to him to the first person who wants to buy it before you even get a chance to get it back yourself. He also doesn’t care how you get his money just as long as you do.”
“I need you to not try to do anything on your own and let us handle things.”
“Oh yeah, it looks like you guys are really handling things. She’s been missing for a week,” she whispers and a tear escapes her eye, rolling down her cheek.
“We are working on it, Marissa, but if you’re interfering, it’s just going to create extra work for us. So, please, if you hear anything or see anything, call us first. Don’t just go charging in, call me first.” I take out a card and hand it to her. “My cell number is on there, so you can call me whenever you think you need to.”