Chapter 60

Wilson time to go to work," I said. "We got a missing person."

"I'll be out in a minute," he said through the thin door.

I knew he had a woman in his bedroom and I wasn't worried a bit about it. I figure it was either Margo or the mom from the B&B. "You take a shower and clear the cobwebs from your head and I'll go out and get us some breakfast. Will that be breakfast for two or three?" I asked.

"Three," he said. Got it see you in fifteen minutes more or less," I said. I drove the pick up truck to Mr. BJ's. I got three full breakfast biscuits. I had better coffee at home. I could brew it faster than I used to reheat it in the microwave. I parked my truck in the marina parking lot. I had no idea which car belonged to Wilson's guest, or it either of them did.

Imagine my surprise when I Wilson't sleep over friend turned out to be the twenty two year old daughter from the B&B. "Well hello there," I said. She at least had the good manners to look embarrassed.

"Hi, I told Mr. Wilson not to bother, but he insisted," she said kind of shy it seemed.

"Oh it's fine honey, he has women in all the time," I said.

"I do not. Don't you believe a word she says," Wilson said. After the biscuit she excused herself saying she had to be going. Wilson walked her to the parking lot. When he came back, he was prepared for the kidding I'm sure.

"Wilson what I want to know is are you fucking her and her mother?" I asked.

"That does not deserve an answer," he said indignantly.

"So you are, damn man, don't you know that's a sure way to get killed," I asked.

"Well the daughter knows," he said.

"What is mom going to say when she finds out and she will find out." I said.

"I don't know," he said.

"Well forget that for now. Antonio Garcia in Capitol City for School at that resort call South Brunswick University," I said. "I want everything there is on him at the school. Then expand the information net outward all the way back to Florida. His mother last heard from him a week ago Sunday. There should be an email waiting with all his personal information including pictures.

"I'm going to wait while you run his credit cards, his name through the national crime computer, and see if his car has been reported as recovered, stolen, or abandoned. In other word what activity has there been of his digital footprint.

"When you take a break from that, I need some fake IDs. A couple from the school will probably do for now. You might get me a minor government ID. I'm not looking for a FBI or anything. IRS or something should do," I said.

"When I get time?" he asked.

"I have to head up there. It's a two hour drive. I'm going to take the Honda." I said.

"What was all that about the Honda was mine?" he asked.

"It was yours to choose and handle the maintenance details, but when I need it, I need it." I said.

"I'll drive your pickup then," he said.

"That was the plan. Back to the ID's I need them right now," I said. "I paid for all this twenty first century shit, now I want to see some results." It might sound like I was giving him shit but Willie loved it. He felt empowered when he got to perform an impossible task. It gave him a chance to prove his worth and he just loved it. Of course, screwing a mother and her daughter had to empower him as well. He would never have gotten that chance in County Seat.

Thirty minutes later I not only had three IDs, I also had three card cases. I was Lucille Friday, "Who the fuck is Lucille Friday?" I asked Wilson.

"It's a tribute to two of my favorite TV shows," he said.

"Okay one is for the university's private security service and one was for housing inspections department of the same school. I was definitely starting at the school, so I was going to need it. I also had my private investigator and private protective services licenses. Neither of which gave me permission to use fake IDs.

I made the two hour drive up to Capitol City. The weather had turned to a late summer storm from a low pressure system that threatened to linger. It would have been a warm rain in December, but it was chilly and damp one in early May. Yes, I had been in a bikini a few days before, but that was on the coast.

I used the Internet map of the very fancy campus to find his dorm suite. The school had built several very fancy apartment type dorms. Antonio Garcia occupied one of the units alone. When I slipped the lock and opened the door I said to myself, "Shit, if I lived here I would never graduate." It was by far one of the most beautiful spaces I had ever seen. The kitchen even had those fancy stainless appliances and granite counter tops. I expected security to come running. Since they didn't I did a walk around.

The unit was far from a mess, but I could tell it had been lived in. There were clothes laying around consistent with a college student living there but no signs of a struggle. I turned on the net tablet phone and got Wilson on the line. I got the hi def web cam on the line so Wilson could look as well.

"Doesn't look like a struggle," he said.

"Lets see what the kid had in his cabinets," I said opening the doors. "Here you go drugs check on this shit for me." I took close ups of the bottles. Then I went through his underwear drawer. Unless the kid had more underwear than a sear store, he didn't plan on taking a trip for more than a couple of days. That was not a good sign.