Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

ARICK

I sat inside the coffeehouse waiting for my chance to interrupt my target’s day. In six minutes, he’d step inside the building and get in line. It would take approximately twelve for him to make it through the few customers in front of him and to wait for his drink. After that, he’d spend two more mixing in additional sugar since he didn’t want to sound horrible to the staff, and he didn’t like others knowing how addicted he was to the stuff.

The plan was to intercept him between getting his drink and adding more sugar. He might be distracted enough to not immediately put his guard up.

Considering he was my last resort; I needed to make sure I didn’t fuck this up.

Months and months of prep work had brought me to this day. If one conversation could open the door to more information, then maybe I could finally get the answers I needed.

Maybe I’d finally find him.

The bell above the door rang right on time. I looked up to see Detective Stabler walking through the door. He looked the same as always, a bit run down like he’d barely slept. Despite his obvious exhaustion, his suit was pressed well, and he presented himself in a friendly manner to those around him.

Most of the people here would be completely oblivious to the gun and badge he had strapped to his person. They’ve assumed him to be some businessman who goes to sit in his office all day or some shit.

But I knew better.

I’d made sure of it.

Since the local police back home refused to help me, I set my sights higher. I climbed through every agency hoping to find someone with a sense of morals left in them to help me. Sadly, most people lost those the higher they got in office.

And that’s why Detective Stabler and I were about to meet each other for the first time even though I’d been stalking him for weeks.

I watched him spout off his typical order then move down the line. It was time to put my plan in motion.

When he had his cup in his hand, I stood and made my way towards him. I kept my pace slow, as if I were simply going to throw something away or get a refill for the tea I’d been sipping. Instead of doing either of those, I bumped into the detective hard.

Some of his coffee splashed onto his hand. He hissed in pain. “Fuck.”

I gasped dramatically, then motioned to the napkins. “I’m so sorry. Let me help.”

It was as if he hadn’t heard me. Even as I gathered napkins and pressed them against his hands, his mind was somewhere else.

His distraction was the perfect opportunity. I slipped the burner phone in his suit pocket as I patted his hand. By the time he looked up at me, I had schooled my face into a neutral sort of concern. He would know that I wasn’t hitting on him, nor did I feel the need to keep the conversation going.

“It’s alright,” he said as he took the napkins from my hand and patted his own once more. “Accidents happen.”

I agreed. “They do. I appreciate your kindness. Have a good day, Detective.”

Spinning on my heels, I left him there before he could say another word. As I suspected, he followed me outside, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.

I ducked behind a car across the street, then dialed the number for the phone in his pocket.

It took him a second to realize the ringing was coming from him. The sidewalk wasn’t very busy, but still, most people knew their own ringtone. The one I’d set wasn’t his.

I’d gone with a recording of “Answer me, Detective. It’s imperative you do.”

“Who is this?!”

The bite in his words matched the fury I saw in his eyes as I peeked over the car.

“We’ll get to names later, Detective. I need your help.”

He scoffed. “Why would I help you? You’re some creep trying to play games. Do you know who I am?”

“Detective Reginald Stabler. Forty-six years old. Divorced. Father. Prefers to add his own extra sugar to his coffee. In need of knee replacement surgery within the next five years, though your doctors suggest sooner. Never been a big smoker, but the occasional drink after a long day helps. Should I keep going?”

His expression had turned from agitation to fear the more I spoke. He didn’t like me knowing all this about him. Didn’t like not having the upper hand.

Same, pal.

It fucking sucked.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to meet me at a location in half an hour. Come alone and don’t tell your superiors what’s happening. You’ll need to leave your normal phone in your car since it’s being tapped, and I can’t risk them hearing us.”

I watched as my words sunk in. “Tapped?”

“Yep,” I said sarcastically. “The people around you want to keep an eye on what all you’ve got going on. It's why I need you alone. I’m not a threat, Detective. I just need help finding someone, and there’s no one else I can trust to do it.”

His sigh was heavy, though I could see the way his shoulders dropped at my words. Giving him a small hint of what I needed was enough to lower his guard.

“I’ll meet you but know that I’ll shoot on sight if there’s a problem.”

I chuckled softly. “I have no doubt. That Glock at your side hasn’t seen any action in ages. Might feel good to pop one off.”

He didn’t take the bait of my comment. Instead he replied, “Where are we meeting? The clock is ticking, and I need to call in late.”

“The fishing docks. I’ll be wearing a white baseball cap with a black leather jacket. See you soon, Detective.” I hung up the phone, then watched to see what he did next.

Stabler took a minute to stare at the phone in his hands, then he tucked it back into the pocket I’d slipped it in. After taking a few deep breaths, he used his company phone to call in to work. At least, I assumed that’s what he was doing since I was too far away to hear him.

We had to trust one another to not screw this meeting up. While I had more to lose than the detective did, it wouldn’t look good on him to come after an innocent man simply because I asked to meet with him. There would be no probable cause, nor would anyone find any incriminating evidence on me.

That’s the beauty of learning how to cover your tracks. Even if I had been a criminal, they’d never have known. Most of what existed about me is tucked away deep in the files on my laptop. A laptop which I kept on me at all times to prevent anyone else from finding and hacking my systems.

If you’d have asked me two years ago if I’d be doing what I was now, I’d have laughed at you and gone back to my cash paying job like it was any other day. I’d have picked up my son from the babysitter after I finished my shift, fed him dinner, watched a movie, then laughed some more before bed.

I wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

Computer expert.

Man on the run.

Father searching for his son.

Stalking a federal agent.

None of it would be believable.

But then the unthinkable happened. My son was taken from me, and since we weren’t the kind of people that people bent over backwards to help, the trail dried up. The authorities refused to help me any further. They said it was a “lost cause” and “they would keep an eye out” for anything new.

It was all a lie.

No one wanted to help me. There hadn’t even been a ransom demand for my son. No one had come forward to say they had him and taunt me like I’d seen in the movies.

If I weren’t so rooted in the truth of his existence, I might have believed it was all a fever dream. At least, that’s how everyone made it seem.

But I knew he was real. He was a part of me, and I needed to get him back.

Which is why I was stalking an FBI agent, making deals I shouldn’t be, and trusting him when I really didn’t have much to stand on.

Once the detective ended his call, he went back into the coffee shop, likely to get another drink. I took the chance to move from my hiding spot to head to the fish market. It would take me fifteen minutes to get there on foot. I’d have to find a spot visible enough for him to spot me, but also secluded enough for us to talk.

And I’d have to trust him to not bring his phone like I told him to. If he does, it could jeopardize the entire plan.

Luckily, by the time I got to the market, there weren't a ton of people around. There were enough for me to blend in with the crowd of workers, yet not so many I’d have to shout to be heard.

Detective Stabler arrived right on time. His scowl amused me, though I kept a neutral expression as to not aggravate him any further.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

I tilted my head, assessing him. His body is tight, as if he’s geared up for a fight. And his eyes are shifty, like he’s nervous about my intentions.

“I have no weapons on me, Detective. My bag has my laptop and some clothes. I’m here because I need your help, not because I want to harm you.”

He didn’t drop his guard. Instead he said, “That only answered part of my question.”

“Yes, I’m aware. My name is of no importance. You won’t find anything on me anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve ensured it. Now then, would you like to know the details of what I need your help with? I imagine your supervisor isn’t going to want to wait around too long with whatever excuse you gave.”

The detective bristled at my words. He didn’t enjoy me pointing out things about him that I shouldn’t know. If it wasn’t so urgent to get his help, I’d have been more amused at his reactions.

It wasn’t every day I got to play this game with someone of his caliber.

“You mentioned needing to find someone. What makes you think I can help?”

“I don’t think. I know you can. My resources have run dry, and unfortunately, I cannot hack the FBI.”

He froze at my words.

I raised my hand when he tried to speak. “I understand that incriminates me; however, I’m willing to admit as much since I didn’t actually make it past anything. My son is missing, and you’re the only person who can help me.”

“Your son?”

“Yes. He’s been missing for nearly two years, and no one seems to want to help. Each time I’ve tried, they’ve turned me away.”

“Missing persons cases like this are hard as it is. With children it’s worse because…”

“I’m aware of the statistics, Detective,” I bit out. “But I know my boy. He’s a fighter. The chances are slim, I’m sure. I still have to try. Giving up on him isn’t an option. He’s my whole world. All I have left.”

Finding him was a necessity. Years ago, I’d been helpless when the only other important person in my life vanished. This time, I wouldn’t accept defeat. I wasn’t a kid forced to do as their parents asked.

My best friend might be a lost cause, but my son wasn’t.

“Are you willing to help me, Detective?”

He took a deep breath, then turned to face the water. “As much as I think it’s a bad idea, I can’t resist. We’ll get you the answers you need, one way or another?—“

His voice cut off where my name would have been. It was hard uttering the words I hadn’t heard anyone say in ages. When you become a ghost, you give up everything to keep yourself invisible.

“Arick. My name is Arick.”

Detective Stabler tipped his head forward. “Alright, Arick. Let’s find your son. Tell me exactly what happened.”

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