{"id":10193,"date":"2022-12-11T06:54:03","date_gmt":"2022-12-11T06:54:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/?p=10193"},"modified":"2024-09-22T16:38:39","modified_gmt":"2024-09-22T16:38:39","slug":"finders-losers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/finders-losers\/","title":{"rendered":"Finders, Losers"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cMy name is Arthur Tracy, but around the cop house, everyone gets tagged with a moniker. So, when I made detective, I got christened \u201cDick.\u201d I\u2019m not on the force anymore, but I am a P.I.
\n+++++<\/span>Sometimes when I\u2019m on the job and waiting to get a long-range shot of someone screwing around another guy\u2019s wife in an out-of-the-way motel. where no one expects to find them, my mind wanders. So, I amuse myself by imagining the exploits of Chester Gould\u2019s famous character.
\n+++++<\/span>Tonight, it\u2019s more serious. I\u2019m trying to find a missing 14-year-old girl. Her father called me yesterday. When I met at their home last night, he introduced me as Richard Tracy to his wife, Anna. I corrected him, \u201cIt\u2019s Arthur Tracy, Mrs. Silvio; I\u2019m pleased to meet you.\u201d I shook her limp, nicotine-stained hand and looked into her shifting, vacant eyes, sure that she was medicated. I didn\u2019t blame her; it\u2019s been six days since they last got a call or text from their daughter. I asked about the police. They told me they were unsatisfied with the police response, and that\u2019s why they called me. I can understand that. I was a cop for 13 years. I told them my retainer and day rate, plus expenses. He said, \u201cNo problem.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>We sat at the dining room table. I opened my tablet and addressed the father, \u201cMr. Silvio\u2026.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cJack, please.\u201d He was a strong-looking guy with an outdoorsy tan and a big-ass Rolex on his right hand. When I saw that, I thought of an old Dick Tracy crime-stoppers card that I saved as a kid indicating it probably means he\u2019s left-handed. Anna was less impressive, thinner than I like, and fidgety.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cOkay, Jack, you\u2019ve had no calls from\u2026.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDoreen.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYes, Doreen. Any texts or social media posts?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cNone.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHave any of her close friends called or texted you asking about her?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>He shook his head, \u201cNo, nothing we\u2019ve heard or seen.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cIs her computer in her room.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYes.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDo you know her password?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cNo, I don\u2019t.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDo you mind if I look? I\u2019d like to take that computer with me. If I may?\u201d A fleeting glance between Jack and Anna caught my attention. Anna lit a cigarette.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know if Doreen would allow that.\u201d He stiffened up.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDoreen\u2019s not here, Jack. Time is short, and she may be running out of it.\u201d I said that while giving him my number two stare, which can be frightening. I got my way.
\n+++++<\/span>I typed a few notes into my tablet, then we went up a curved staircase with an elaborate railing past some impressive artwork hanging on the curved wall. This family had some bucks.
\n+++++<\/span>Doreen\u2019s room was as expected, complete with stuffed animals, posters, and memorabilia of pleasant teen memories. Her laptop was placed on a desk calendar covered with notes, numbers, squiggles, and small graphic pictures drawn with a fine ballpoint and a skilled hand. \u201cYour daughter is quite an artist.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>For the first time, Mrs. Silvio spoke, \u201cArt was her favorite subject. She excelled in that.\u201d I filed that information in my brain for reference because several of the pictures were erotic representations of male genitalia. I found her passcode taped on the bottom of a Snoopy mug filled with pens. I typed it into my tablet and took a picture of Jack, Anna, and Doreen, which was hanging beside the desk. \u201cMind if I take this?\u201d They both nodded, and I slipped the small frame into my jacket pocket.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019ll take her laptop back to my office for examination. My secretary is a whizz at social media, and she can save me a lot of time searching?\u201d This was my first lie, but it was a big one. I don\u2019t have an office or a secretary. All I have is a fancy business card, a cell phone, and a recently reinstated license. But that\u2019s another story.
\n+++++<\/span>Jack agreed reluctantly, followed by another quick glance with Anna. What\u2019s going on with these people? I don\u2019t have an answer now, but I will. Jack picked up an envelope from his desk and handed it to me as we passed the library. \u201cYour retainer.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cThanks. I assure you I will earn it.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>When we parted at the door, I told them the truth. \u201cI will find your daughter.\u201d I meant it. I just hope when I do, she\u2019s still alive.
\nMost of the retainer I got will go to my ex, Marilyn, leaving me just enough to survive until my next billing.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

I picked up take-out Chinese on the way home and picked at that while I picked at Doreen\u2019s laptop on my tiny kitchen table. I constantly searched local and national law enforcement databases when I was employed. I knew my way around a computer, although not as familiar with all the social media outlets as I presume my imaginary secretary would have been. Four hours and four Rolling Rocks later, I found a recurring thread. Why was Doreen searching a dark stream of member-only swinger sites?
\n+++++<\/span>These groups weren\u2019t cheap. At least at the level, she was searching. And why would a fourteen-year-old girl be searching these sites, all of which required proof of maturity to join? When I was on the force, our focus in Vice was on street crime, the pimps and walkers, the traffickers, and the lower rungs of sexual crimes that often turned deadly. These adult clubs skirted the law with language that suggested they were simply coordinating a meet and greet at some pleasant location. They didn\u2019t stick their nose into private business between consenting adults\u2014read that as a group activity.
\n+++++<\/span>So much has changed in recent years, with swanky and exotic Airbnbs providing the perfect venues. I\u2019ll call Mutt in the morning; he\u2019ll know more about this. I kissed the bedside framed picture of my fifteen-year-old daughter, soon to be sixteen, and told her briefly what I was doing, turned out the light, and had a restless night\u2019s sleep.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

After a caffeine wind-up, I called the station, \u201cDetective Garcia, please.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHe\u2019s on a call, sir. Would you care to leave a message?\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAsk him to call Jeff, please. He has the number.\u201d I didn\u2019t say, \u201cTell him,\u201d because our relationship has broken down since I was fired. Mutt was careful, by the book, everything above board, kind of cop. I was the cowboy, too quick to pull a gun or throw a punch. We were a helluva team until I went too far, I drowned a punk trying to get information, and Mutt did me a solid that he can\u2019t forgive. But my aggressive action did save twin fifteen-year-old girls, who might have ended up servicing some asshole in a foreign country. That gave me enough points to keep a tenuous relationship with Mutt and keep me out of prison, but not enough to save my job.
\n+++++<\/span>Two hours later, he called, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m looking for a missing fourteen-year-old, Doreen Silvio. Her dad said the cops aren\u2019t doing shit.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHold on.\u201d<\/i> I heard pecking sounds and knew he was searching. \u201cDoreen with two e\u2019s?\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYeah.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>A minute later, \u201cNothing recent, but this kid has flown away in the past, two\u2026no, three times last year. The longest was three days. She returned home on her own. No information about where she went. The parents were interviewed and didn\u2019t want to go any further. We\u2019ve had no recent call from the parents about a missing kid. So, why should I care, Jeff? I\u2019m a busy guy.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGot it. So, I\u2019m on my own. What do you know about these swinger clubs around the area?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m old, and I\u2019m married, you know that.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cBesides that, any complaints, problems, criminality. So, what\u2019s the skinny?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAll of the above, mostly from an unsatisfied partner maybe making accusations of abuse, but after they cool down, they don\u2019t want to talk about it and usually end up in divorce court.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat about kids?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cNot these groups. They are very tight about that because they know that\u2019s a trip they don\u2019t need or want. We constantly watch for that kind of shit.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI mean, have any kids dropped a dime on their parents?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cIs this what you\u2019re thinking?\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cJust another angle, that\u2019s all.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cThat it?\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cFor now, Mutt, \u2018preciate anything that might come up. I\u2019ll find this kid.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDo it legally. No more cowboy shit or I\u2019ll be arresting you. Or, maybe just shoot your sorry ass and be done with you.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGot it, take care.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m not blowing smoke, Jeff. I mean it. Don\u2019t do another Jekyll and Hyde thing. I can\u2019t save you now.\u201d<\/i>
\n+++++<\/span>When Mutt says something, I know he means it. But I have my own way of doing things, and I\u2019m all in with what I do.
\n+++++<\/span>I took the last longneck from the fridge and sat in the recliner with closed eyes replaying everything I had just heard. Most of it was predictable, but when Mutt told me about the kid angle, which rang a bell as I thought about the suspicious looks between husband and wife, an angle that I will pursue as I work this case to the bone. I\u2019ll find out. I\u2019m good at that. Also, I asked myself, \u201cWhy did these parents lie to me?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>After five beers, I should have stayed home. But the guy I wanted to see didn\u2019t come out in the daylight. And he wouldn\u2019t answer his phone. So, I went downtown. After three stops turned up bupkis<\/i>, I got my first lead. I found Kodak at a titty bar on Lexington. Years ago, we relied on his advice about photo equipment and techniques to aid our tech team. The guy was a genius, but then he went off the deep end when his wife dumped him. Tonight, he was holding a rolled-up dollar bill so the girl on the stage could squat and grip it with her well-trained lips.
\n+++++<\/span>I sat next to him and said, \u201cSave your money, Kodak. I\u2019ve got a better deal for you.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>He turned, \u201cHumph, Dick the dick. I bet you haven\u2019t had any since Marilyn walked.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDon\u2019t go there.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSorry, Tracy. What do you want?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDid you ever film any of these swinger parties, the kind that like rent Airbnb\u2019s, maybe in the islands?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cA few.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat can you tell me?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cThey\u2019re legal. They\u2019re all consenting adults. At least the ones I\u2019ve done. I don\u2019t do kids.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSo, you\u2019re telling me there are others that do, kids.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cShit, yeah.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAround here?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cMaybe.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat the hell? A group of oversexed adults, possibly married, agree to meet and swap, including kids. Are you shittin\u2019 me?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat the fuck century have you been living in, Tracy? Kids are a hot commodity.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cTheir own kids?\u201d I was stunned.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhy go outside the family. The family that swings together do all kinds of things together. They probably go to Disneyworld.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSo, we\u2019re looking at a class above middle-class?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYeah, these clubs aren\u2019t cheap. They\u2019ll rent exotic venues, maybe go to the islands. Stuff like that during school vacations with the kids and do their thing.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat the fuck.\u201d I thought of my daughter and cringed. If I\u2019d ever sunk that low, I\u2019d shoot myself.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cCan you give me any other names I can ask?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cTry Gary Truist. He\u2019s a travel agent with Wentworth Sun Tours. He\u2019s always willing to talk for a few bucks. You don\u2019t have to say I told you.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGot it. Hey, your catcher is eyeballing you for another pitch. Here she comes, Kodak, make it a good one.\u201d I slipped him twenty bucks which was cheap, but it was all I could afford tonight. Besides that, he owed me a solid from last year. I never forget.
\n+++++<\/span>It was late, but I called my sister on the way home because I knew she\u2019d still be waiting for her dickhead husband, who was living under a warning from me. \u201cHey Christine, can you talk?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019ve got about ten minutes, then Bill will be home.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cEverything going, okay?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSince you talked to him, yeah. He\u2019s here every night, like clockwork.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGood to know. Hey Crissy, can you loan me two hundred bucks? I\u2019ve got a good-paying case, but I sent most of the retainer I received today to Marilyn, so I\u2019m a little short. I need to buy a guy tomorrow for some dirt I need for this investigation. I\u2019ll be billing my client again soon.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI can do that. When do you want it?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhen do you go to work?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSeven.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>Okay, I\u2019ll meet you there. Thanks, Sistah. Don\u2019t worry; this is a legit case. It could be a big one for me and get me back with Marilyn and Susie. God, I miss them both. I\u2019ll be a better man when we do.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI know you will, Brudder. I know you will.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I met Chrissy at the diner in the morning. I sat at the far end of the counter while she waited on other customers. Finally, she handed me my coffee with a napkin folded over two c-notes. \u201cThanks, Babe.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>She said, \u201cUse it wisely,\u201d and returned to her other customers.
\n+++++<\/span>Wentworth Sun Tours didn\u2019t open until eight, so I drove around the city aimlessly, chewing up my precious gas. All of that will end soon.
\n+++++<\/span>Gary Truist was a small-frame, hatchet-faced guy who gave me the immediate impression that he could be bought. After shaking his limp hand, I got right to it. \u201cA guy tells me you arrange island getaways for couples that want to fuck out each other\u2019s brains. Ever deal with these two?\u201d I showed the photo I had taken from Doreen\u2019s room.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSure.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cBoth of them?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAll three of them.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>My brain was scrambling, \u201cWhen was the last trip?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cFor the holiday. Let\u2019s see.\u201d He started pecking at his keyboard with speed I didn\u2019t think was humanly possible. Yup, here it is, Don and Loretta Linley and daughter Virginia. A group charter to Barbados.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I showed him the picture again. \u201cAre you sure?\u201d
\n\u201cOf course, see that big-ass watch?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I think I\u2019ve hit paydirt. I gave him one of the c-notes and my card with instructions to call if there are any other queries or bookings made by the Silvio\/Linleys. He seemed satisfied with the one bill, which left me something for food. I left there feeling like I was on fire. I haven\u2019t had this much excitement in a long time, and now, I\u2019m driven. So, I went home to think, saving my gas for later. I fidget, my fingers drumming on something when I do this, so I start with a pad rather than a keyboard. Sometimes I draw circles and label them, then connect them with arrows. Today I drew three-dimensional boxes because I feel boxed in and want to break out.
\n+++++<\/span>I labeled one box \u201cJack\u201d and one \u201cAnna.\u201d I drew a double-pointed arrow horizontally connecting the two boxes. Below each box, I vertically listed their appearance and demeanor. Jack had many more entries. However, I wrote \u201ccaution\u201d under Anna because I think she might be an act. It\u2019s hard to imagine a couple going to a swinging party with one partner acting like they would rather be home knitting. I think she was acting in my presence.
\n+++++<\/span>These notes gave me some direction. Then I drew a box labeled Doreen, centered below the others, and added notes about her drawings and web searches. That\u2019s where the mystery lies. Everything visual in her room said, \u201cSweet kid,\u201d except her finely drawn pictures on the calendar. I\u2019m not na\u00efve. This isn\u2019t 1950; kids are maturing quicker and having sex, although possibly not coitus. My daughter, Susie\u2019s image, flashed inside my head, and I shuddered. I didn\u2019t want to think about that. So, after an hour of this bullshit, I\u2019m no more directed than I was before I started, but I\u2019m convinced that the daughter\u2019s disappearance is linked to the swing gang. Then a terrible thought punched me in the gut. Was her disappearance an act of rebellion or a criminal act by her parents?
\n+++++<\/span>I popped a pod in the Keurig, then paced around my tiny apartment with a mug in my hand, thinking crazy thoughts because crazy things were happening. Did Mom and Pop bring their daughter into the sex scene willingly? Unwillingly? Or did Mom and Pop get rid of the kid? Either selling her to a trafficking ring or in a shallow grave. Jesus, this thing is tearing at my mind. I need to find someone who might have part of the answer, and that\u2019s a nighttime job.
\n+++++<\/span>I left the house at 8 and went back into the MacArthur district, which was just beginning to wind up. A few girls walked the sidewalks in cheesy provocative outfits, looking like Pretty Woman before the makeover. Minimal covering, maximum exposure. The cops had long ago given up on hassling over the clothing. What the hell? Look at the Hollywood crowd on the red carpet. I wasn\u2019t looking at the girls. I was looking for Tex Red. I doubt if this fuck had ever been south of the Connecticut River. Still, he fancied himself an All-around Rodeo Champion. He was sitting in the driver\u2019s seat of a top-down \u201902 El Dorado convertible with chrome trumpet horns on the fender and fake cattle horns mounted on the grille. His hat probably ran about twelve gallons, and his shiny red shirt had a yoke of blue and white fringe which ran down both sleeves. The cuffs were fastened with a row of fake pearl buttons. I couldn\u2019t see the boots, but I imagined they were probably faux snakeskin. All he needed was a set of spurs. I tried not to laugh and couldn\u2019t let this fuck wind me into anger. I had to stay calm and work him for information, not beat his fucking head on the street.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHow they hangin\u2019, Tex.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhat?\u201d He shifted upward in the seat. \u201cOh, you, Tracy. Where you been, man. We ain\u2019t seen you on the street since your sorry ass got canned. Stuffin\u2019 anybody\u2019s head in a toilet lately?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDon\u2019t go there, Tex. I\u2019m not in the mood.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSo, whatcha want, man. I got a nice new one yesterday. Fresh and eager man, barely legal.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDon\u2019t go there either.\u201d I relaxed my hands and took a deep breath.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYeah, yeah, whatcha want?\u201d He pulled a bag of Bull Durham from his shirt pocket and started rolling a smoke. I bit my tongue.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cInformation. I\u2019m looking for this girl.\u201d I took the photo from my pocket. \u201cEver see her?\u201d Think hard.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>He hesitated, then snuffed his nose and said, \u201cNo, never. But the dude, I seen him.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYou sure? How \u2018bout the woman or the girl?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHim sure, her nah. The girl looks interesting\u2026.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI said, don\u2019t\u2019 go there. Tell me about the guy.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cBig dollar guy, big ass Rolex, real, not a knock-off.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I looked at the one on his wrist and chuckled. \u201cSo, why did \u2018big bucks\u2019 contact you?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHe was looking for a little Chiquita to take on a trip.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cTrip?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYeah, man, he wants a young chicken to take to a barbeque in the islands somewhere.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDid you?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cFuck no, I protect my flock. I ain\u2019t gonna send one of them out of range, and maybe they don\u2019t come back. They is valuable merchandise, man.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGood to know. You\u2019re a stand-up guy. Anything else?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cLet me think\u2026yeah, he say something about a club. Prob\u2019ly some old fucks swinger thing. They charter a plane for some fun in the sun. Jesus, man, I tell him I can supply all the fun they need right here in the city. Save them some money. Shit, man, I don\u2019 understand these people.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDid he say what island, airline, or anything that can give me some direction?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHe say some guy, Gary something, handles the flights.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cTruist?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI don\u2019 know if it\u2019s true or not.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cNothing with the woman or girl in the pic.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cNah, the woman looks iffy, the girl is cute, but I don\u2019t handle kids.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cGood thing. Let me ask you, if a kid like that ran away from home and ran to the streets, where could she go?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWell, the unlucky ones go to a hell they never imagined. The lucky ones, they maybe go to Sistah Elizabeth.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cTell me about her.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAll Souls.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAll souls what?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cShit, man, since yo\u2019 ass got canned, you been out of touch. The mission on Montgomery, tell Sistah that Tex Red sent you.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I slipped him my last c-note and my card. \u201cKeep me posted.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI always appreciate a new customer.\u201d He smiled broadly, so I could see his gold teeth. If he only knew how close he was to losing them, he wouldn\u2019t be smiling. I patted his arm draped over the car door and walked away\u2014proud of my new-found restraint. I headed to Montgomery.
\n+++++<\/span>All Souls was a garishly painted storefront tricked out by ghetto artists with spray paints. A bell tinkled above me as I opened the door. I was surprised by a bright interior with soft organ music playing from a speaker set on the floor in a corner behind a painted plywood pulpit. Six rows of assorted metal folding chairs were arrayed like soldiers facing it. There was a bead-stringed doorway at the right side of the back wall and a sweet floral scent coming from a plug-in room deodorizer. \u201cHello. Sister Elizabeth.\u201d I called into the empty space.
\n+++++<\/span>I heard footsteps descending a wooden stair behind the curtained wall, not the heavy plodding steps I expected. So when Sister Elizabeth appeared through the beaded curtain, she was even more unexpected. I\u2019m six-two, and she was nearly as tall. I\u2019m casual with my work clothes, but I always wear a sports coat to cover my gun. Sister Elizabeth was wearing a fitted black dress with long sleeves and a hem that fell at her knees. She was standing in shiny black pumps with a moderate heel and wore a heavy link neck chain attached to a 3-inch silver cross centered between her breasts. Her hair was sleek and swept back into a bun. She was about forty, well-built, well-postured, and could have graced the runway with Heidi Klum.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cHello, Sister, I\u2019m\u2026.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI know who you are, Detective Tracy.\u201d Her voice cut like an icicle.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m self-employed now, Sister. I\u2019m no longer with the police.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>She glanced at the ceiling, then directly at me. \u201cPraise the Lord. You\u2019ve done enough damage in this area.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cCan we start over, sister?\u201d I handed her my card, but we did not touch. \u201cI\u2019m down here trying to save a fifteen-year-old girl. I need help.\u201d I showed her the picture.
\n+++++<\/span>She studied the card and the picture, then said, \u201cFollow me.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>We went through the beaded curtain to a sitting area with a group of six matching dining room chairs around a scarred circular table with a bowl of tangerines in the center. The hanging overhead light fixture was missing one bulb.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cSit.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I pulled out a chair and obeyed her order as my eyes swiveled about the room.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cCoffee?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cBlack.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>She made two cups using a Keurig on a sink counter under the wooden stairs.
\n+++++<\/span>After she settled with the cups and took a sip, she said, \u201cTell me about your case but hold the names for now.
\n+++++<\/span>This is odd, but I went ahead to tell her what my suspicions and fears were. I gave her the picture again. She placed it on the table, then took her phone from a black leather holder velcroed to her left wrist and typed in a message using one hand. The other hand raised the cup to her lips which were colored with dark reddish lipstick.
\n+++++<\/span>She put the phone and the cup down and said, \u201cOkay, so you\u2019ve been hired by this wealthy couple because their daughter has not been seen in eight days, including today?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I nodded.
\n+++++<\/span>You have evidence that they take part in intra-family fucking?\u201d She saw my surprise and added, \u201cSwinging, open marriage, swapping, whatever the term is today.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI got it.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>In the same monotonal delivery, she continued, \u201cAnd you believe the child is either being coerced to take part and refusing or planning to drop a dime on her parents. So, they may have taken some drastic action against her, or she just got pissed and ran away?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cAll of the above.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWait here.\u201d Sister got up, took the pic, and went back upstairs, my eyes unashamedly following her shapely ass.
\n+++++<\/span>I heard a bed frame squeak, someone sat, then there was muffled conversation. Five minutes later, Sister returned, trailed by Doreen Silvio. I stood up and extended my hand. She hung back, looking scared, and did not accept it. I sat, then the others. Doreen looked down at her hands, saying nothing.
\n+++++<\/span>Sister asked, \u201cMr. Tracy, do you know who this is?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cI do, but we\u2019ve never met before.\u201d I smiled at Doreen\u2019s blank face.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cDoreen is in danger. She has told me some terrible things, which seemed odd until I spoke with you. Several things you told me corroborated her story. She is afraid of her parents, and she is afraid to go to the cops. She had done that once before, and her father was informed by them and punished her severely. Sister took Doreen\u2019s arm and raised the sweatshirt sleeve. The ugly scar on the inside of her arm was a cigarette burn.
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cJesus! Sorry sister.\u201d I spoke directly to Doreen. \u201cDid your father do that?\u201d She shook her head. \u201cMother?\u201d She nodded. What the fuck kind of psycho family is this kid caught up in? I asked Sister, \u201cIs she safe here?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cFor a while, you\u2019re not the only one looking.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cOkay, Doreen, I need a picture of your arm.\u201d She looked at Sister. \u201cTrust me, Sister.\u201d Sister nodded; I took a pic with my phone.
\n+++++<\/span>My brain was in overdrive. Too much shit was flying at once, but I think I have a plan. \u201cCan you get some soldiers over here to help out?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cThis is a house of worship, Mr. Tracy.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cOkay, let me do it for you. Call it divine intervention. Take Doreen upstairs where she can wait safely for me to come back. Don\u2019t worry, I will take care of this. Lock the front door after I leave. Do not open it for anyone until I return. Understood?\u201d They both nodded. After they went upstairs, I called Tex Red, \u201cCowboy, it\u2019s Tracy. I\u2019m at All Souls. I need some soldiers over here to park in front. No one that\u2019s not me is allowed inside. Maybe a couple of hours. Tell these guys I will pay them later. Okay? A young kid\u2019s life is at stake. Are you down with this?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cYeah, I gotcha covered.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>Sister locked up. I flew home and typed up an invoice, then called Mutt from my car. I told him I cracked the case. He wanted details. I told him, \u201cLater,\u201d and he warned me not to get in the way. As I sped to Jack Silvio\u2019s house, I called with the \u201cgood news\u201d and gave him the final figure. I said I expected to pick up a check, and he agreed. I dodged his question by saying, \u201cWait \u2018till you see what I\u2019m bringing home.\u201d I hung up and didn\u2019t say \u201cwho.\u201d I\u2019m not sure how he reacted.
\n+++++<\/span>I sped up Maple Lawn and parked in Silvio\u2019s driveway, diagonally, blocking it just in case. He greeted me at the door. \u201cCome in.\u201d He shook my hand and said, \u201cWhere is she?\u201d I said, \u201cWhere\u2019s my money?\u201d He handed me the check and asked again, \u201cWhere\u2019s Doreen?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I responded, \u201cWhere\u2019s Anna?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>He didn\u2019t like this. A rat like him could smell a problem. \u201cWhere\u2019s my daughter. You said you were bringing her home. What the fuck gives? Is this some kind of shakedown? I\u2019ll call the police.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>\u201cWhere\u2019s Anna.?\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>He screamed to the upstairs. \u201cAnna, get down here. Mr. Tracy has some scheme he\u2019s playing.\u201d Anna descended the stairs slowly. She wore a heavy white velour bathrobe with a resort crest over the left breast. Her face seemed clouded and unsure as if expecting trouble. She stopped at the bottom of the stair, steadying herself against the newel post.
\n+++++<\/span>Jack was agitated, \u201cOkay, Tracy, where\u2019s my daughter? Enough of this shit.\u201d
\n+++++<\/span>I took out my phone and showed him her arm burn. He jolted back as if from a snake. \u201cYou sonofabitch! \u201cHe started screaming at me, and I was ready for his charge. But, Anna pulled a gun from the robe pocket and held it in two hands. I raised my hands and backed toward the door. Jack turned, and Anna shot him in the face. His body flew back against me, pressing me into the door. Anna stepped closer and shot him again. I gently took the gun from her hands and called Mutt.
\n+++++<\/span>The cops, the EMTs, and the M.E. arrived together. I met them at the door. I told Mutt what happened. We went into the dining room with Anna and sat at the table where we both made statements. She tearfully detailed every sordid moment, laying all the blame on her dead husband. The truth will probably never be known. I don\u2019t give a shit.
\n+++++<\/span>I said my piece and hoped the check would clear. The TV breaking news called me a hero. Doreen went to her aunt\u2019s home in Waterford. Marilyn said she needed a little more time, and I sent my daughter a birthday present. I called Sister Elizabeth, then went to All Souls with a bottle of wine and a small bouquet of mixed flowers.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

[Image Credit : Photo by Oleksii S<\/a> on Unsplash<\/a> ]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cMy name is Arthur Tracy, but around the cop house, everyone gets tagged with a moniker. So, when I made detective, I got christened \u201cDick.\u201d I\u2019m not on the force anymore, but I am a P.I. +++++Sometimes when I\u2019m on the job and waiting to get a long-range shot of someone screwing around another guy\u2019s […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":460,"featured_media":10201,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1458,1670,1452],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10193","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-e","category-ed-n-white","category-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1Zyqm-2Ep","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/12\/Finders-Keepers1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10193","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/460"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10193"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10193\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10201"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10193"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10193"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.close2thebone.co.uk\/wp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10193"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}