Familiar Lies (8 page)

But the room was empty as he stood there, thoughts racing and head buzzing from the shock of it all.

He had to get out of the house right away. He couldn’t stay there. He left the bedroom, still half-expecting to find someone waiting for him elsewhere in the house.

But the house proved empty; violated, but empty.

Max went to Josh’s room and found the door open and the contents scattered about. Anger surged inside him as he looked upon Josh’s bed, the sheets stripped off and the mattress lying on its side. Whoever did this had disturbed the sheets Josh had made up the day he’d died. They’d ruined everything, Max found as he looked around the room. Max had left everything as Josh had left it and now it was all destroyed.

He glanced at Josh’s desk and found they’d taken his son’s laptop as well.

He left the room quickly and retrieved a duffel bag from his closet. He stuffed it with some of the clothes that had been tossed onto the floor and slung the bag over his shoulder before grabbing his laptop and power cord on the way out to his car. He threw the items into the back seat, glancing furtively around for the perpetrators to arrive.

Seeing no one, he slid in behind the wheel and started the car. He shifted the transmission into reverse and paused, foot on the brake. Where would he go? He had his credit cards; he could get a hotel room for now, until he had time to think. Time to figure out what to do next.

He took his foot off the brake and allowed the car to drift backward down the driveway and into the subdivision street. He shifted into drive and pulled forward. As he did his phone buzzed in his pocket, the text tone chiming softly. He retrieved the phone, unlocking it and staring at the screen. There he saw an unknown phone number and a single sentence:

They’re following you

Max nearly dropped the phone as he read the words on the screen. Questions lined up for roll call in his mind, sounding off one by one. Who sent the text? Who ransacked his house? Who took Amanda’s DVD?

He wasn’t sure, but the last four digits of the number looked familiar. The same person who texted him in the basement of that flophouse? Possibly. But he didn’t have time to check now.

Now, someone might be following him.

Max glanced in the rearview at the street behind him. A small, red Camry trailed a reasonable distance behind. Max had no idea, however, if the car was following him. And how could he? What had he expected to see, another black Lincoln Towncar bearing down upon him? He supposed that’s exactly what he expected. Truth was, he couldn’t assume anything anymore.

The Camry pulled off after a mile, leaving Max to the two-lane road on which he now traveled. He found himself continually glancing behind, his eyes now locked on a black Nissan Altima. Did Russian human traffickers typically drive Nissans? Did they typically drive Lincoln Towncars? What in the hell constituted
typical
with people like this?

Max didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. He’d never before felt so out of his element, so in over his head. His mind kept going back to that severed rope in the garage, the cut that looked a little too clean to be accidental. He’d hit a nerve with someone; that much he knew for certain.

Max held the phone in his hand, waiting for another text as he drove with the other hand on the wheel. The black Nissan remained behind him, but its driver seemed to have little interest in keeping close. He’d drop off for a while and then reappear. If Max hadn’t known to look for it, he’d never noticed the car in the first place.

Maybe that’s the way these guys did it; follow behind so lackadaisically that the act of being followed went completely unnoticed by the target. It made sense.

He continued to drive until the Nissan pulled off, but Max didn’t know if he’d shaken his tail or if the tail had even existed at all. He didn’t receive a follow-up text from the mystery texter, but a quick scan of his call history confirmed that the person who texted him outside his house was indeed the person who texted him in the flophouse basement. Someone was following him, but he began to wonder if that person might very well be the same one texting him.

After another few miles of driving in circles, Max decided to hole up for the evening. He seemed fairly certain he hadn’t been tailed, but not certain at all as to who might be contacting him and whether or not they could be trusted.

After another few miles, the brightly lit sign of a Best Western came into view. He welcomed it. He was going to need some time to think things through. As he pulled into the hotel parking lot he felt the phone buzz in his hand, the twinkly little text tone echoing inside the car. He glanced at the screen.

Ruby.

Max got out of the car, grabbed the duffel bag and made his way to the front desk, the phone with the waiting text message tucked into his front pocket.

Max got a room for a reasonable rate and carried the bag there. He locked the door behind him and then thought better of it, propping up a desk chair against the handle. It felt like a paranoid thing to do, but considering the current state of his house it didn’t seem so far-fetched.

He still hadn’t read Ruby’s message, so he kicked off his shoes and laid down on the bed with his phone. He unlocked it and opened the text.

Can u talk?

Max thought about his response. Vanessa’s seed of doubt was quickly growing.

Yes,
he replied.

Where are u?

Why would she want to know where he was? Was that a normal question or was it suspicious?

Out,
he typed.

Good. Can u meet me?

Why?

???

Max paused. Maybe he’d pissed her off. He moved his thumbs to type a response when another came through.

Because I have info, thats why

He did piss her off. Did that mean she was telling the truth? Incredulous for real?

He tried to smooth it over.
Ok, sorry. Just being careful.

Good idea,
Ruby replied.
Theres a dennys a mile or so from the club. Meet me there at 6 k?

Max read the words, considering his next move. He didn’t actively distrust Ruby, so he decided to meet. He wouldn’t tell her about how he’d found the house or that he was in a hotel now. And not about the missing DVD. Better to keep that information close to the chest for now.

Okay
, he replied. Maybe it was his age, but Max didn’t use texting shorthand. Josh had, which seemed to drive Max nuts to no end. Now the memory just made him sad.

Make sure you’re not followed
, Max added.

A pause then the response.
Um, ok

Max tossed the phone onto the bed and looked at the clock. It was nearly four-thirty. He had maybe a half-hour before he needed to leave, so he decided to spend it thinking of what to do next.

He had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t be nearly enough time to sort things out.

* * *

Ruby showed up ten minutes early. In the light of day he could see that she was prettier than he originally thought she was. He wasn’t even sure why that mattered; the male species seemed to never stop considering that kind of thing as important. He made a mental note to himself to remember that when he began to trust a pretty girl too much. He wouldn’t be the first man in history to get taken down by a pretty face.

She sat across the table from him and a waitress showed up right on Ruby’s heels; a chubby thing with thick fat gathering around the eyes and a weak double chin. Ruby ordered coffee and toast with butter. Max said he was fine.

The waitress headed off for the grill and Ruby got started. “You have any luck with those pics I sent over Thursday night?”

Max thought of his answer but held it. Instead, he asked a question. “You didn’t give my number to anyone else did you?”

Ruby looked incredulous. She shook her head. “No. Why would I do that?”

Max studied her face. Her response had been that of surprise, he felt confident at that. The problem was that Max didn’t know if she was surprised because he’d suggest such an untrue thing or because she knew he was on to her.

Either way, she now knew he was suspicious of her. He could see it in her eyes. “I’ve just been getting some weird texts, is all,” Max said.

“No, I wouldn’t give your number to anyone. And I keep my phone with me all the time.”

“Does it have a passcode set?”

“Yes, and it has the fingerprint thingy.”

Max nodded. “We just need to be careful.”

“What did the texts say?”

Max ignored her question and returned with one of his own. “What do you know about Gabe? I mean, what do you really know about what he does outside of work?”

“Not much.”

“Where does he go? Does he have another job? Maybe he runs another business on the side?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Who owns The Hustle?”

“I don’t know his name. I’ve only seen him a couple of times. He doesn’t talk much to the help if you know what I mean.”

“What does he look like?”

“He’s tall, skinny. Wears a suit.”

“A white suit.”

Ruby thought for a moment. “Sometimes, I think.”

Bingo
, Max thought. “I think I saw him Thursday night.”

“Where?”

Max finally let it all out, despite his reservations. He told Ruby about following Gabe, the house with the basement and the man in the white suit. He watched her face closely for tells that might expose any duplicity, but he had serious doubts that he’d be able to spot them as easily as someone trained for this sort of thing. All
he
could see on her face was confusion.

Ruby responded after Max finished. “Okay, back up. You followed Gabe to some crack house and then you went inside?”

Max nodded.

“Are you fucking crazy? Here you are telling me to be careful and look what you’re doing.”

Max thought about it. She did have a point. “Fair enough, but I found proof there; evidence that implicates Gabe and others in something very bad.”

The waitress returned and deposited the toast and coffee onto the table in front of Ruby. Max thanked her and she gave him a wink that made him just a little uncomfortable.

Ruby picked up the coffee, took a sip and sat back in the seat, leaving the toast where it sat. “What exactly did you find in the house?”

“A DVD.”

“What was on it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

Ruby opened her mouth as if to argue otherwise, but paused. “Okay, so maybe I don’t want to, but maybe I
should
know.”

“Why?”

“I’m the one who has to work with this creep every night. You don’t even have to stand in the same room as him. I need to know what I’m working with here. That’s only fair.”

Max considered and found that he agreed. He told her about Amanda and the terrible things he’d seen the masked cameraman do to her. Ruby leaned forward in her seat as she listened, her face changing along with the details; surprise, disgust, pity. All reactions Max had expected or, he worried, what she already knew he expected and simply delivered with an Academy Award-winning performance.

“Do you know Amanda?” Max asked. “Or any other girls like her working for Gabe?”

Ruby sat for a moment, staring at her untouched toast. “No.”

“I think Josh found out about whatever’s going on with Gabe and that guy in the white suit. You’re sure you don’t know his name?”

Ruby searched her thoughts and shook her head. “No, but I could probably find out.”

“You’ll put yourself at risk if you go snooping around in their business. Leave that up to me.” He realized how macho that sounded after it came out.

“Thanks, hero, but I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“I know. It’s just this is a lot of shit to take in. Gabe involved in some sort of sex tape crime ring? Maybe along with my boss’s boss?”

“It’s looking that way.”

“I shouldn’t go back to work.”

“If you don’t go back, won’t they be suspicious?”

Ruby thought about it. “Good point.”

“Did they mention anything about me?” Max asked. “After the night you and I met, when I went in asking questions about Gabe and the others?”

“Nobody thought anything of it. There’s a guy like you that comes in at least once a month. Sometimes he’s somebody’s dad, sometimes he’s a preacher from some church. Lost sheep and all, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“As long as they didn’t see you at the house you probably got away clean.” She paused. “They didn’t see you, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You mean you don’t know for sure?”

“Nobody followed me.” Max thought of his house and the missing DVD. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure.

“So what’s next?” Ruby asked. “Are you taking the DVD to the cops?”

“Eventually.”

“Eventually? You should take it right away. You don’t want to sit on something like that. If the cops or anybody else catches you with it they’ll think—”

“I know.”

“You’d better figure something out then. I’m not waiting around forever for you to do something. I’m already freaked out at being in the same room as Gabe.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Ruby didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push the issue. She stood, leaving her uneaten toast on the table, along with the tab. “Text me tomorrow. Keep me in the loop.”

“I will.”

Ruby walked out of the restaurant, got in her car and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving Max to his thoughts.

Max sat in his hotel room with his laptop open, staring at the Google homepage. He had an idea on the way back from meeting Ruby, and if it played out as he hoped it could provide information vital to finding out what happened to Josh.

Just as important, he might be able to bring to a close what happened to Amanda.

Max had only a first name and a physical description from the video. The lighting had been good, possibly even professional. Apparently teenage rape porn customers demanded certain quality standards in their videos. Although Max wished that he’d seen a whole lot less of what was on that video, the odds of positively identifying Amanda had been greatly increased now. The problem was, where would he look?