Fourteen
My plan was simple and logical, because the way I figured it, I had one course of action left open to me.
I had to retrace my steps and start from where the car and I had been abandoned by the carjackers.
They had wanted to check what they’d stolen, and would have done that close to, but not in, their own neighborhood.
My first step was to locate them, because working backward would eventually lead me to where I’d been held.
It seemed quite reasonable, so I returned to where I’d been last and walked until I found an area with lots of foot traffic.
There was a liquor store, a corner market with bars on the windows, several single-room-occupancy hotels, a pawnshop, one of those payday loan places, and a strip club. And while I wasn’t certain this was my carjackers’ neighborhood, it was closest to where I’d been.
The room I rented usually went by the hour instead of by the day.
That was what the manager had told me as he counted the four twenty-dollar bills I gave him.
He usually didn’t give out a bathroom key, but since I’d given him cash, I was given access.
I wasn’t to loan it out though. He didn’t have to worry; I wasn’t planning on having company over.
I took up my place in the window of my room and watched the vacant lot across the street from me.
I was convinced of one thing—the two guys who had stolen the car from the kidnappers lived somewhere in the neighborhood.
People were creatures of habit, so my theory was that if I just staked out the liquor store, I would find the men I was looking for.
The heat in the room was minimal, so I had my parka, heavy scarf, and beanie on as I looked through Sam’s binoculars across the street. I called my brother on my burner phone as I kept watch.
“Who is this?”
“Me,” I said distractedly, scanning the area in front of me.
“Jory,” he gasped, sounding relieved and mad at the same time. “Where are you?”
“I’m on a stakeout,” I told my brother. “How’s Sam?”
“He woke up this morning, and he wants you.”
“Nice try,” I said slowly, checking up and down the street. “I talked to one of the nurses and she said he was sleeping soundly and they’re gonna move him out of the ICU today.”
“Where are you?”
“I answered already.”
“What does that even mean? You’re on a stakeout where?”
“See, I have a theory.”
“God, do I even want to know?”
“No, listen—if I can start at where I ended up, at where the car was dumped, and find the guys that took the car from the kidnappers, then I’ve got a jumping-off point.”
“And you don’t think the cops thought of this?”
“Since I didn’t tell them what the carjackers looked like, I’m gonna go with no, they never thought of it.”
There was a silence.
“Why didn’t you tell them?”
“Because basically, they saved my life, right? I didn’t want them to get in trouble for that.”
“Which is admirable, but now you should turn this over to the police. They have access to CCTV surveillance that you do not. I’m certain if you told them, they could find these men much faster than you. Letting the police take it from here is still the best option.”
“So you think it sounds good? Backtracking?”
“You didn’t listen to a word I said.”
“But it is smart, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” he said irritably. “When you lose something, you retrace your steps. You want to know where you were, so you backtrack to the last place. That makes sense.”
“See?”
“But that doesn’t mean you should be the one to do it or do it alone. Tell me where you are and I’ll come sit with you.”
“No, thanks. I’ve got this.”
“The hell you do. The guy who wants you could be watching you right now. You could be hurt or worse so… just tell me where the hell you are before I call the police.”
“Dane, I’m sure the police are working all the angles to find who did this to Sam, I’m just working my own since I’m the only one who knows who the carjackers are.”
“Jory—”
“I’m not coming home until I figure this out, Dane, so just…do me a favor and watch over Sam, all right? I took care of Aja, now it’s your turn to watch over him.”
“Jory—”
“I love you,” I said, and hung up and then turned off the phone. I wasn’t taking a chance on anyone tracing my burner.
It reminded me of living at the YMCA, and then with the four other guys I lived with when I first moved to the city.
I had always been cold, both places smelled, and the rooms had been dirty.
Sitting in a cramped position watching the liquor store, alternating between using the binoculars and not, I realized how boring stakeouts were in real life.
They always looked fun in the movies, but lots of things looked like more fun in the movies.
I had to go out for food, but since nothing looked particularly appetizing, I ended up at the liquor store myself, buying water, Red Bull, and lots of different granola bars and pretzels.
I had lived through an entire summer once on ramen noodles and pretzels.
Both had the same makeup as dog kibble—they expanded with water in your stomach.
After three days, though, I remembered why I didn’t eat either anymore.
I kept the phone off because I didn’t want it tracked, got a new one, broke the old one into pieces, and checked in daily with Dane.
My only other calls were to the hospital to get status reports on Sam.
That Sunday though, I called everyone so they wouldn’t worry.
I called Dylan and apologized for not being at work, but she told me not to worry about anything.
I called Aaron to tell him I was all right, and he was worried and wanted to talk more, but I simply couldn’t. I called Regina to check in, and Evan, but I kept everything short.
I called Aubrey and told her that I wouldn’t be in on Monday, and probably for longer than that, but I wasn’t sure.
I had sent her all my work, though, having completed all my open cases from home the week prior.
I had emailed them all from my laptop at home to the office before I left.
She was thrilled that she was covered, appreciated me pulling my weight, but then fell into begging me to come home.
“Jory, honey, you’re scaring the crap out of all of us. Every policeman in the city is on the lookout for you, and Sam… Sam’s gonna be awake soon, and when you’re not there, he’s gonna—”
“Sam needs me to find this guy, Abe, and I finally realize that it’s up to me. Nobody else cares as much as I do, so… But I know you didn’t sign on to be the sole proprietor of Harvest Design, so if you wanna just close the office until I—”
“No, honey. I quit Barrington. I want to work with you and Dyl full time, if you think that—”
“I would love that. What’d Dyl say?”
“Jory, don’t you think, considering the circumstances, that we should maybe talk about this in—”
“She was stoked, right?”
“God, your words. What is this, the fifth grade?”
“Yes,” I teased her.
“Jory, she thought it was a great idea, so I think—”
“Thanks, Abe. You’re making a good decision. I swear.”
“Jory Harcourt, I just found you! I love and adore you, and if anything happens to you, I just don’t—”
“It’s gonna be okay. Now look out for Dyl and take care of the office. I’ll be home soon.”
“Jor—”
But I cut her off when I hung up and turned off the phone.
I called the hospital three times a day, and various nurses explained that Sam was doing well. Still sleeping a lot, which promoted healing, and that was for the best.
Around ten the following night, on Monday, I was finally rewarded for my vigilance.
I saw one of the carjackers stroll into the liquor store while his friend waited outside and smoked a cigarette.
I left my phone in the room and took the five flights of stairs down and out the back door to the street.
The street was crawling with people—dealers were on every corner, hustlers were clustered in doorways, and a little farther down were hookers in various stages of spandex and varying heights of heels.
Hard to strut on wet sidewalks in four-inch stilettos.
And even though I loved to prowl around at night, it was different in the part of town I was in, and all alone.
I realized that between my man, my friends, and my family, I was never alone anymore.
I had gotten used to being a part of a network of people.
It was weird to think it was just me for now.
“Hey.” I greeted the guy standing outside, leaning against the window of the liquor store.
He looked up at me warily. “Hey.”
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my peacoat. “Do you remember me?”
He squinted. “No, man.”
“I—”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Were you at Jerry’s?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I was the guy in the trunk of the car that you and your buddy stole.”
His brows rose, almost disappearing into his hairline. “Oh shit! Me and Billy were wondering what the hell happened to you.” He looked me over. “What the fuck were you on, man?”
“I was on a lot of shit. But I need to find out where I was before I got put in the trunk of the car. There’s a hundred in it for you and your buddy to split if you can show me the place.”
He nodded. “Sure, man. But we gotta hit a club first. You come with us, and as soon as we do our thing, we’ll go, all right?”
“Perfect,” I agreed.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing hold of my parka, leading me inside the liquor store. “What’s your name?”
“Jory.”
“I’m Zach.”
I followed him to his friend Billy, who was coming out of the back room of the store when we found him. He seemed just as amazed to be meeting me.
“What club is it?” I asked Zach.
“The Dirty Blonde,” he told me. “Do you know it?”
I didn’t, but I hadn’t spent much time in the part of town where I currently was.
“We’re meeting our boss there. His name’s Rego and it’s his club.”
I nodded, pointing at Billy’s hand. “And those are what—poppers?”
He shrugged. “Sure. We got other stuff too. Tell me what you want and I’ll hook you up.”
“No, thanks.” I smiled at him. “Let’s go.”