Chapter 25: The Ticking Clock

Tuesday morning the pressure went up when I got a call from someone wanting to see me about locating a missing person. I agreed to meet them for lunch to discuss the details, and we met at the Pink Taco, which is one of the restaurants inside the Hard Rock.

As soon as I saw where the hostess was taking me, I knew I was in trouble. The person I was meeting with was a board member of my favorite church. In fact, it was the lawyer who had shown up to ruin Steven Hendricks' life the morning after his wife set him up.

"Oh, come on," Jamie said. "This could be fun!"

"Mr. Malcolm, Ed Rivers, thank you for meeting me."

"No problem," I lied, and then turned to the hostess, "Could I get a get a glass of water please, with lemon?"

"Certainly, sir, I'll have your server bring it out; she'll be right with you. Her name is Carla."

"Thank you," I said, and then turned back to Mr. Ed. "So how can I help you, Mr. Rivers?"

"Well, Mr. Malcolm, I'm here representing the Church of the Inner Circle – I believe you've been to see us recently?"

"Yeah, a few times. Nice place, very friendly staff. I'd never been to a church where they gave you your own personal guide before."

"We find that many of our new guests are self-conscious on their first visit; having someone show them around helps put them at ease. It also allows our youth a valuable ministry opportunity. I believe it was April that attended you, was it not?"

"Yes, that's right. Nice girl, really pretty too; almost makes me wish I were back in High School, but you didn't bring me here to talk about the girls at the church, so..."

"Actually, I did," he said, interrupting. "One girl in particular. Let me explain: a few months ago we lost a family; it was a tragic event, a fire in the middle of the night."

"Oh, that's awful!" I said, "But I thought you wanted me to find a missing person."

"Yes, I'm getting to that," he said.

I could sense a hint of impatience in his voice. Good! I knew how much this guy liked being interrupted. Call me petty, but if I couldn't get to Bastion, the idea of fucking with one of his people really appealed to me. Jamie was right; this could be fun.

"The fire was intentionally set," he continued. He opened the folder that was sitting next to him and handed me a picture of the family. "Fortunately the smoke got to them before the flames."

He then pulled out a picture of Phoebe. "The missing girl..."

"Wow!" I said, interrupting him again. "That's her? Hard to believe they're related..."

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Well, she's a little out there compared to the rest of them, and I got a decidedly conservative vibe from the church – just doesn't seem like a good fit. In fact, it's hard to imagine a family with someone like her in the closet attending there. Wait, you said the whole family died?"

He held my eyes for a moment; his look clearly questioning if contacting me was a mistake, or maybe he was wondering if I was the right David Malcolm. "She was a cousin, recently moved to the area to live with them after her parents were killed, and God takes all kinds, Mr. Malcolm. No doubt her parents indulged her, but I'm sure, given time, she would have come to realize that this was not the proper path for a young woman in God's Kingdom."

"Sorry," I said. "Shouldn't jump to conclusions. Poor kid, first her parents and then the family that took her in? Still, that doesn't explain why she's missing. Wasn't she home when the fire hit? You said it was in the middle of the night. Of course, if she's half as wild as her look..."

"Perhaps if you would let me finish, Mr. Malcolm?" he said tightly.

"Oh, sorry, go ahead." I couldn't help smiling inside. Jamie was enjoying the whole situation even more than I was; only she was free to laugh her head off.

"Hey, take it easy, I'm trying to keep a straight face here."

"Sorry."

No she wasn't, but then – except for the whole keeping a straight face part – I was really starting to enjoy myself as well. I got another chance when I spotted the waitress heading our way with my water.

Just as Rivers started to speak again, I picked up the menu and said, "Maybe we should order first? One less interruption, you know."

"Fine." He turned a cold eye on the girl and said, "I'll have the grilled Salmon."

"Very good, sir," she answered just as coldly. "And for you, sir?" she asked in a warm voice.

"Ooh, I don't know. I'm thinking of a salad, but I'm kind of having a hard time deciding between the Chicken Tostada and the Mexican Turkey."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, I love the Chicken Tostada, with the guacamole and sour cream ... it's really good! But I have to limit myself to one a week because it's so rich. Gotta watch my figure, you know?"

"Well, I could watch it for you," I offered. She blushed prettily. "I think I'll try it."

"Excellent!" she said. "You won't be disappointed. Will there be anything else?"

"Not right at the moment," I said, eyeing Mr. Happy across from me, "but you should check back every few minutes, just in case I think of something." I flicked an eyebrow at her.

She gave me a wink and a smile as she headed off to place the order. Jamie chose that moment to give me a glimpse at what was going on in Rivers' mind. He was indulging himself in a little daydream revolving around our waitress, handcuffed to a table in the kitchen with a ball-gag in her mouth so no one would hear her scream. In his mind, though, she was considerably younger. Apparently he thought her training had been seriously neglected in her youth and was thinking about how he might have handled it. Big surprise.

"Sorry, Ed, you were saying?"

The little daydream bubble didn't fade or pop; it exploded, as his eyes snapped to mine at the use of his first name.

"Ooh, good one!" Jamie said.

"It was first believed that the girl – her name is Phoebe, by the way – had started the fire."

"Whoa!" I said. "You're kidding? Wow, she doesn't look the type, even if they were a little straight for her."

"Like I said, that was the initial suggestion – based on the fact that she was missing from the house at the time of the fire. The police were looking for her as a suspect but were unsuccessful in locating her."

"Wait," I said, interrupting – Jamie was right, this was fun! "The police couldn't locate a ... what is she, twelve ... year-old girl with flame red highlights and... ? Oh, sorry, you were saying?"

I thought I saw smoke, but it may have just been the lighting.

"Thirteen," he said coldly, "and they had people searching, but at that point they were treating her as a runaway. They traced her all the way to Southern California, but something happened, and..."

"Wait a minute," I said, snapping my fingers. "I think I remember reading about this. It was just before I moved here. Were those the two cops they found dead in that motel? I think the paper said it looked like a murder-suicide. I never saw anything more about it, but you know how that stuff goes – front page today, buried in the classifieds tomorrow. I was kind of surprised they didn't just hand it over to the FBI once they confirmed she fled out of state."

"Yes, well, after two of their officers died pursuing her, the local police seem to have given up. Especially since, as you said, they were someplace they had no business being. I do not know if the FBI took over after that or not. We never believed she set the fire in the first place. Despite her look, she was a very gentle girl. We have come to suspect she may in fact have been kidnapped, and the fire set to cover it up."

"Well, that's certainly a new twist," Jamie said.

"Wow," I said. "That's a bizarre twist, but why would anyone go to those lengths to grab a girl like her? I mean, her parents were dead, and obviously they killed everyone she knew here, so it can't be blackmail. Did her parents leave her a lot of money? Has anyone been contacted regarding ransom or anything?"

"Not to our knowledge," he said. "The case stalled when the two officers died. At the time, they were still pursuing the arson angle. It was assumed that they had lost her, but we're wondering if maybe they were actually getting close, and someone killed them."

"You think someone murdered two cops who were looking for her?" I asked sarcastically. "Why? What's the motive here?"

I waited just long enough for him open his mouth and added, "Wait, that makes no sense; the story in the paper clearly indicated that one cop shot the other – emptied his gun into him in fact. Didn't they send someone else to follow up? I mean, Vegas PD must have been pissed."

I could see a vein starting to bulge on the side of his head.

"If they weren't so embarrassed by the whole thing, I'm sure they would have. The only information we've been able to get is that they have alerted California authorities to watch for her. We don't think they want to devote the manpower to it for a case that's already cost them two officers."

"What a load of crap!" Jamie said. "That's all the more reason they would want to pursue it. Cops don't like it when cops die – especially when they're actually chasing a suspect. They'd be all over this!"

"What did they say when you told them your kidnapping theory?" This should be interesting.

"Frankly, they blew it off – which is why we decided to contact you. Mr. Bastion was very impressed with your record."

"Well, I appreciate the opportunity, but again, this all seems like something the FBI should be handling. A quadruple homicide; the only suspect fleeing across state lines; and now it may have all been to cover up a kidnapping? Two cops possibly murdered pursuing her? It would explain why they couldn't find her; if the cops were after me for something like that, I'd want to disappear, too. But I just can't picture a girl that young hiding from the authorities on her own. If she was as sweet and innocent as you say, then it's hard to imagine her surviving on the street at all."

"Yeah! Riddle me that one, Batman!" Jamie said.

"Where are you getting this stuff?" I asked, bewildered.

"Unfortunately, our priest has had dealings with the FBI before, as a result of which, they are not really an option for us."

"Really?" I said. "That's odd. I would think that with six people dead with no explanation, and the possibility that a young girl's life might be in danger, they might be willing to overlook personal differences. If half of what you've suggested is true, then clearly someone is very interested in her and has gone to great lengths to make her disappear. I can't imagine what he might have done to tick them off that badly."

"It's not what he did, Mr. Malcolm; it's what they accused him of doing. Mr. Bastion has twice been accused of, and tried for, murder. The last time, the FBI was in charge of the case. He was acquitted after several of their so-called 'witnesses' changed their stories. They didn't take it very well. The FBI hates to lose, I guess. Either way, they are not an option."

"You're kidding! Someone accused a priest of murder, twice, and it never made the paper? Of course I can understand why they might want to bury the story; I'm sure it was embarrassing to them, but still, it seems a little petty to let something like that stand in the way of justice, especially if you're right and an innocent girl has been kidnapped and set up like this. I can't imagine why someone would go to such lengths. You don't have a problem if I consult with the FBI, do you?" I asked. "I mean, I've worked with them before, and they may be able to help."

"We would prefer they not be involved," He said. "However, the primary goal is the girl's safe return, so by all means – if you think they can help locate her – do whatever you think best."

"Ohhh," Jamie sneered. "Fucker, if you only knew what we think is best."

Lunch arrived, and we got down to discussing what a job like this would entail. He hinted strongly that I should be ashamed of myself for considering money as an object when the subject was the life of a young girl. Apparently my reputation had me pegged differently. The temptation to pitch a scene and walk out was strong, but the last thing I wanted was them blabbing to the press about why I had stormed out of our meeting. They would have no problem twisting it to look like I was putting the money ahead of Phoebe's life, and that was just plain bad business. I told him I would think about it, and he left me with copies of the file to look over. I promised to contact him in the next couple days with my answer. He left with my suggestion that he consider how expensive it could be to pursue a case like this – especially since the trail was already several hundred miles long and several months' cold. I picked at my salad and flirted with Carla as I looked over the file.

Shocked didn't begin to describe Allison's reaction when I told her about the meeting.

"They want you to do what?"

"They appear to think highly of my record. Well, not Rivers; I don't think I left a very favorable impression on Mr. Ed, but Bastion was the one who told him to contact me. Fortunately, I know exactly where not to look for her. The problem is I can't really refuse the case without looking bad, especially after the high-profile finds I've made recently. This really puts the pressure on to finish this. Obviously I can't 'find' Phoebe for them, but I don't know how long I'll be able to stall, either."

"Jimmy," she said, "be careful. Remember who it is we're dealing with here. This is going to give him access to you for updates and such. One slip talking to him, and he's going to know something is up."

"Allison, 'David' doesn't know anything about Roxy. He's going to have to start from scratch, and that means a lot of work just doing background on her family and stuff to try and figure out why anyone would be interested in her in the first place. Yes, it's going to be a challenge, but it's not like I can just walk away because it's a tough job. The last thing I want is the press suggesting I'm insensitive to a missing thirteen year old girl."

"Jimmy, you're not thinking it through. The last thing Bastion and his group are going to want is the press getting involved. That's the reason they didn't go to the FBI in the first place. Well, that and his past, that part is at least true, but still, they couldn't ask for a better way to make the feds look bad than to try to get them involved and have them refuse because of Bastion's past. I just can't believe they could still want her this badly after all this time."

"All I can think is they don't like loose ends," I said.

"Any hint they may be feeling the same way about Tanya and Missy?" She asked. "Anybody feeling around for information on their sudden disappearance?"

"Not that I know of, but I'll ask. Tony handled the legal aspects, so I have to assume anyone interested would inquire through his office – especially if they found out he had power of attorney. Not that it would matter, since the only address he has for her is a post office box in Florida. From there the mail is forwarded to Lizzy's box at the college, and she passes Tanya's along. I don't even know if she's gotten any mail since she moved. Tony is handling everything himself, so none of his people are vulnerable. I'll check with Jasmine and see if anyone has been asking about her – besides her regular clients, that is."

"That should protect them from everyone but Hightower himself. And speaking of Hightower and the whole pressure problem, have you come up with any new ideas on how to handle him?"

Something in the way she asked that... "Why do I get the idea that you have?"

She smiled as she answered, "Oh, I don't know, something in the way I asked it maybe?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Well, I've been thinking about how he operates, you know, how he maintains his little empire without anyone catching on that he's the one pulling all the strings."

"And?"

"Well, everyone we've found is a member of the church, right?"

"Yeah."

"Which means that not counting extra-curricular activities, he's guaranteed to see them all at least once a week?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Jamie, I need you," she said unexpectedly.

Jamie had been spending time visiting with Lizzy and Amber while Allison and I caught up on some overdue snuggling in the cabana. I was surprised when there was a discreet knock, and the door opened slowly.

"Jamie?" I asked. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Practicing not barging in on the people I love when they're spending time together."

"Why?" It came out in stereo as Allison and I both asked at once.

She looked a little sheepish as she answered. "Well, I mean ... isn't it rude to walk in on people when they're ... you know?"

"Fucking like drunk monkeys?" Allison suggested, sitting up. "Come here, Jamie."

Uh-oh! I knew that tone; it sounded sweet, but ... this was not going to be pretty. Poor Jamie, you'd think she would have known better, but she never even saw it coming; she just ambled over and sat on the bed. At which point Allison grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head down onto the mattress.

"If you ever pull that shit with me again, Sister, I'm going to have Jimmy lock you in Tanya and take her to a frat house as a party favor. Do you understand me?"

"Yes!" Jamie said quickly.

"Good, then we don't need to have this conversation again or mention it to any of the other girls, right?"

"No," Jamie said, moving her head slightly side to side.

"Good, now sit up and give me a hug." Jamie slid upright, and Allison immediately hugged her and started combing her hair out with her fingers.

"Silly girl," Allison admonished. "You live here, Jamie. It's your home; you don't need permission, and there is nothing we could be doing that we would be embarrassed to do with you here. What would happen if you let something like this become a habit, and then one day something went wrong, you had to burn a lot of energy unexpectedly, and you really needed to get back? That's the kind of habit that can kill you. You think I want to live with that? You think any of us do? Cause of death: Misguided Manners; sooo not what I want to put on your headstone.

"Besides," she went on, "even the Energizer boy-toy here runs down once in a while. What if I'm just almost there and he just ... can't ... quite... ," her voice was taking on a desperate, whiny, oh-god-please-just-a-little-more tone, " ... ugh ... get there."

She took Jamie by the shoulders and gave her a little shake.

"I count on you at times like that," she said. "To rush to my rescue, to step in, prop him up, and give it to me 'til I just ... can't ... take it ... any ... more." She shook her more with each subsequent word. "God, this is making me horny all over again."

She let Jamie go and said, "We can finish this discussion later. Stick around after class. Is there anybody in that church you feel comfortable spending time with?"

Jamie had been giggling at Allison's antics, but suddenly her face screwed up, and she said, "Eww! Like not!"

"Not like that!" Allison said. "I mean is there anyone you think you could sit through a service with and watch for Bastion to drop by."

"Oh," Jamie said. "Like that. Sure, I guess? You mean like Samantha?" A wicked grin split her face, "I could spend some time with her no problem"

"No, not her," Allison said. "He already knows how much Jimmy likes her. It needs to be someone he wouldn't suspect. How about Kathy Hendricks?"

"Ugh!" Jamie replied, the distaste evident on her face. "Not my first choice. Can I, like, give her cramps or diarrhea or something when I leave?"

"You can do that?" Allison asked. Jamie just shrugged and made one of those faces that said she didn't really know if she could, but it sounded like a good idea and might be worth a try. "Fine by me," Allison went on. "Here's what I'm thinking..."