Chapter Fourteen – Jace
JACE
Clipping the microphone to my shirt, I step up to the dog bath. “Today we’re grooming Riddle, the ten-month-old German Shepard,” I say into the empty RV, turning slightly to speak into the camera before giving Riddle a scratch behind the ear.
“You gonna be easy and get in the tub for me?” I ask, pulling slightly on the lead to encourage him to go in on his own. As expected, he digs his paws in and refuses to jump up.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad, I’ll even go first,” I mutter, climbing into the tub with a handful of treats that are enough to encourage the nervous pup into the tub with me.
Whilst he’s distracted, I quickly climb out, closing the gate behind me and securing his lead to one of the hooks above the bath so he doesn’t jump out.
I give him a quick scratch and tell him he’s a good boy before talking to the camera again.
“Riddle was unfortunately surrendered to the shelter about a week ago,” I explain, flicking on the tap to warm up the water, not aiming it towards the pup yet, but just letting him get used to the sound as I sneak him another treat.
“For no fault of his own,” I continue on. “His previous owner failed to research before he chose to adopt a dog. As an eighty-something-year-old, he wasn’t prepared for the high physical and mental demands that a breed like this requires.”
Running my fingers through his fur, I easily free a few clumps of compacted undercoat, letting me know I will need to grab my grooming helmet that has a net to cover my face from the ‘furnado’ that is definitely going to happen when I bow his coat out.
“Something that could have easily been avoided. But no matter, I have no doubt that Riddle will find his forever home real quick when he goes up for adoption.” My little speech is cut off as soon as the water touches Riddle’s feet, wincing as he starts whining.
“Hey, you’re okay,” I coo, trying to soothe him as I run the hose through his fur to soak it, making sure I get his undercoat thoroughly wet. The entire time he continues to moan and whineyowl as though he were being murdered, not taking a bath.
“Yep, you’re a Shepard,” I joke, letting out a laugh as I pour shampoo down his back and start to rub it in. “So, today I’m bathing him in a de-shedding shampoo to help loosen up some of that compacted undercoat.”
He leans into my body and as I rub the last of the soap in, I feel the last of the tension that’s been riding me drain away, all the while explaining what I’m doing to the camera and future viewers, including hyping up his upcoming adoption.
We haven’t read any of the blog posts yet, deciding instead that it would be best if we destress a little and wait for the weekend.
When I woke this morning and realised it was Friday, I came straight here after Charlie left for work, knowing the shelter is always happy for me to come and groom the cats and dogs.
I’ve been here all day, grooming two other dogs and even a litter of kittens. It’s exactly what I needed, and even though I was reluctant to accept the RV when it first showed up, I’m beyond grateful for it today as the last dog was a fully grown Great Dane.
It 'coincidentally’ showed up in the driveway the day after Charlie and I mentioned offhandedly to Ariana and the guys that we were starting Bee Rose Furr-Ever.
We mentioned it because we wanted to ask Ethan to help us design a logo but the next morning, we were sitting inside, enjoying a quiet morning whilst Charlie nursed a hangover when we heard the beeping of a reversing vehicle.
When we went outside to check, we saw the RV, complete with the design idea I had scribbled onto the back of an old receipt, painted across the sides.
Eric had looked so confused when he jumped out with a massive grin only to find me shaking my head and telling him no.
I can’t believe I had to explain to him that one doesn’t just give a fully decked out RV, completely converted into a groomer’s heaven on the inside with the best equipment a groomer could ask for, as a gift.
How they even managed to do it overnight, I have no freaking clue.
I'm pretty sure it wasn't possible so I’m pretty sure Eric, being Eric, already knew about our plan and had it in the works.
For someone who grew up in the foster system, he sure didn’t have a problem adjusting to the high roller life. It took me an hour to convince him to let me pay them back for every cent they spent on the RV.
I know they often invest in start-up companies and small businesses, but it just felt too much like taking advantage of our friendship.
He was disappointed and pouted like a bloody child, but he eventually agreed.
Although, I highly suspect he ‘lost’ a few receipts when they gathered them to give me a figure amount.
A particularly loud whine brings my focus back to the groom and I wince at the volume, making a mental note to grab my noise cancelling headphones once I’ve finished rinsing the shampoo out of his coat.
“Okay mister, someone needs to tell you you’re not a husky,” I say, switching the water off and reaching for the towel. Before I can grab it, I’m spinning to give him my back as he immediately starts shaking water everywhere. “Thanks.”
“Do you think the dads have heard back from their contact yet?” Charlie asks me, staring down at his phone once we’ve finished washing the last of the dishes and I shove the leftovers in the fridge.
“I don’t know, we can call ‘em ‘n’ find out?” I suggest, folding the tea-towel in half and feed it through the oven handle to dry.
“Loungeroom or table?” he asks, and I take a long look at the table, wincing when I recall the last call we had with his parents, but before I can get too much in my head about the episode that followed a few hours later, Charlie is telling me to meet him in the loungeroom.
“Grab us a drink, yeah?” he adds on before disappearing around the corner and I let out a relieved breath, happy to have a task to do.
Opening the fridge, I grab a beer for Charlie and a can of coke for myself, wishing I could have one for myself, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself these past few years, it’s that alcohol and me do not mix.
It’s not recommended; in fact, I was warned that it can be dangerous dozens of times, but after hearing so many stories of people who do it all the time and are fine, I stubbornly ignored both Charlie and my doctors’ warnings.
Unfortunately, it was a lesson learned the hard way; do not trust strangers on the internet. I ended up in the hospital after a pretty bad reaction one night. Scared both myself and Charlie half to death.
Since then, I haven’t so much as taken a sip of alcohol. It’s just not worth it for me.
“Well, isn’t this a turn of events. We were just talking about you two,” Caleb’s voice fills the room as I sit down beside Charlie, and he freezes at his dad’s words. I give him a reassuring smile, letting him know I’m alright and hand his drink over.
“We were just wondering if maybe you’ve had a chance to ask around about tracing the posts?” Charlie asks, pointedly avoiding responding to the joke, and I appreciate it; it isn’t necessary, but I love him for it.
“We just got off the phone with him actually,” Ryan answers and both Charlie and I sit up straighter.
“Well?” I ask when neither of them continue and I swear I can feel my heart beating through my chest with anticipation.
“Like Mia said, it’s good news for Bonnie, not so much for you guys,” Ryan’s voice trails off and I deflate a little.
A huge part of me is happy for Bonnie that she has someone helping her, but a smaller part hates that they’re so good that this is going to be another dead end, if it is Bonnie that is.
“They couldn’t do it, could they?” Charlie takes a long pull from his beer and for a moment, I look at it longingly, wishing I could skull it down alongside him. Instead, I grab my coke and swallow a large mouthful.
“No. He couldn’t even narrow it down to Australia. It’s a wonder Mia got that much, because he said he's pretty sure he knows who is protecting her. He said there’s only one person he knows of who can hide someone that well, and they’re a ghost.”
“A ghost?”
“Yeah, no one knows who they are, or even if they’re a he or she. They’re that elusive they don’t even have a code name. They came into the scene after we moved into corporate security, so we never crossed paths, but even we’ve heard the stories.”
“Like?”
“Like you better be prepared if you reach out to ask for their help,” Elijah answers.
“They can fix pretty much any problem for you, but before they accept you as a client, they’ll dig into who you are as a person.
If you have anything to hide…if they don’t like it, you could just as easily end up dead. ”
“What?” Charlie and I exclaim at the same time, chocking on our drinks and he reaches out to slap my back.
“Yeah. About five-ten years ago, there was this politician who hired him because he was receiving death threats from some mafia type because of something to do with his campaign.
“He hired them to fix his problem, but he turned up dead after being brutally murdered with photos and other evidence of his involvement in human trafficking, particularly kids. Turns out the guy he was trying to get protection from? He was his supplier, and he didn’t pay for the 'merchandise’,” Ryan’s voice drips with disgust as he explains the story and it’s enough to turn my stomach.
“And this person got away with it? The cops didn’t catch them?” I find that hard to believe. How could they go around killing their clients and not get caught?
“Honestly, I don’t think the cops tried all that hard to get him.
Rumour has it, even the government has hired them on one or two occasions.
So, I guess they weren’t willing to hang themselves over a closet human trafficker,” Elijah tells us, his twin adding his own comment before Charlie or I can come up with something to say.
“Mm, especially when they apparently dismantled the entire ring. Killed anyone involved and dozens of rescued women and children started popping up at hospitals and police stations around the country.”
“And people still hire this guy?” I ask incredulously. Who would want to hire someone that could just as easily turn around and kill you? Doesn’t exactly scream good marketing.
“You’d be surprised the shit people think they can hide and get away with.” I mean…Ryan’s not wrong there. There’s some pretty fucking shit people in this world.
“Okay,” I draw the word out, pinching the bridge of my nose. “How is this good news for Bonnie? This person sounds fucking dangerous and they’re the only person who knows where she is? How do we know she’s safe with them?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather someone who is deadly watching my back…If this person is protecting Bonnie, nothing is getting through to hurt her or her daughter. I guarantee they’ve been safe since the moment they helped her.”
“I don’t like it,” I blurt out, putting my can of coke down on the coffee table a little too roughly as I get to my feet and start pacing.
“This guy sounds like a fucking nightmare, and we just have to trust them? How are we supposed to find her if they’ve erased any trace of her and no one has the skills to undo it? ”
There’s always someone smarter than you. Someone who has more skills, so there’s got to be someone out there who can find Bonnie. I mean, Mia managed to get something.
“My contact doesn’t know anyone who does, and if they do…they’re not coming forward. They likely don’t want to piss this person off by trying. Did Mia tell you guys how she managed to get what she did?”
I’m already shaking my head as Charlie recounts exactly what Mia told us and I sit back, considering what this means for us.
If this is Bonnie, which admittedly…I really think it could be, then she will only be found if she wants to be found. Or if she leaves some sort of hidden messaged designed just for Charlie and me…
I look at Charlie, meeting his eyes and I see the same thought going through his head.
We need to read the posts. Now.