Tariq “Reek” Horton
A few days later, the Feds found me on the block.
I had just pulled up and gotten out of my car when I saw a woman standing half a car length away like she had been waiting on me. She was wearing a dark coat and low heels. I knew exactly who she was even though we had never met.
Jamir had already dug into Sienna’s pending federal case and put a face to the name, Agent Mallory.
He had shown all of us photos of her, along with everything else he could pull.
So, when I saw her standing there looking too polished for my side of town, I already knew what kind of conversation this was about to be.
By then, Langford was fully convinced his daughter was missing and that something bad had happened to her.
He was pulling every political string he had, leaning on cops, city people, private resources, and anybody else with access to cameras, records, or ears in the street, trying to find out where she was or who had last seen her.
A worried father was one thing. An alderman with power, money, and panic in his blood was something else entirely.
Langford was applying pressure everywhere he could, and I knew that kind of pressure had a way of turning one bad situation into ten worse ones real quick.
I shut my driver’s door and watched Agent Mallory walk up to me.
She didn’t smile as she asked, as if she didn’t already know, “Reek?”
I leaned against my car. “Depends on who asking.”
“I’m asking.”
“And who the fuck are you?”
“Agent Mallory,” she answered while taking her badge from her pocket and flashing it. “I’m looking for Sienna Langford.”
I looked up and down the street once. My crew was posted where they always were, acting regular but clocking every bit of this. Then I looked back at her.
“Since when do the Feds investigate a woman that’s been missing for a few days?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Sienna and I were working together on a case, so I’m interested in where she could have gone and if she’s okay.”
“I can’t help you with either because I have no idea.”
“You mind answering a few questions anyway?”
I shrugged. “Ask.”
She folded her arms, staring up at me. “What was your relationship with Sienna?”
I shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the Feds. Don’t you get paid to find shit out?”
Her jaw tightened just enough for me to catch it. “Don’t play games with me, Reek.”
“I’m not.” I pushed off the car. “Me and Sienna were fucking. The last time I saw Sienna, I gave her this dick, and I ain’t seen or heard from her since.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Mallory asked.
“I don’t give a fuck what you believe.”
She stepped in closer, lowering her voice like that was supposed to put some fear in my heart. “Sienna didn’t just miss brunch with her father or blow off some friend. She vanished.”
I stared at her for a second, then looked past her like I was already bored. “That sound like y’all got a problem.”
“You don’t sound concerned.”
“And? Lack of concern ain’t the same thing as guilt.”
She studied my face like she was trying to figure out my lies. “Did she confront you about anything?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you she was in trouble?”
“No.”
Mallory’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
I smirked. “Prove it.”
Mallory watched me a second longer before stepping back. “You better hope we find her, Reek.”
I scoffed. “Or what?”
She didn’t answer that. She just turned and walked back toward the dark SUV parked a little ways down from mine.
I stood there until she pulled off, then looked back up the block. Everybody had gone back to business as usual.
Standing there, I realized Langford and the Fed simply thought Sienna was missing. They had suspicions and unanswered questions. That meant we weren’t fighting proof; we were fighting narrative.
I then realized something clear as day; we didn’t need to prove innocence. We just needed a good story.