Ridin' Dirty: An Outlaw Author Anthology (OAMC Book 1) (26 page)

Daniel

My blood is still boiling as I sit down across from her.  Fucking Frank.  How that guy ever became a cop is a goddamn mystery to me.  He is one of the laziest assholes I’ve ever met.  In fact, I have no clue what he even does around here.  I am done with his bullshit.  I’m taking this right to the Chief when I’m through with Miss Monroe.  He can’t treat people like this, and he’s been getting away with it for far too long.

Taking a deep breath, I shove all thoughts of Frank Johnston out of my mind and focus on the girl across from me.  It’s not hard to do.  She’s beautiful and… different.  Her hair is long and black, the curls cascading halfway down her back.  She has a large white flower tucked just above her ear that matches the flowered dress she’s wearing.  Her blue eyes are made up dramatically with heavy eyeliner and smokey lids, and her lips are a bright, rosy red that I can’t stop staring at.  She looks like she just stepped off the cover of a 1950s magazine.

Her bright eyes stare back at me expectantly and I have to clear my throat to give myself a moment to think.  “Okay.  Miss Monroe –”

“Gabby,” she cuts in.  Her voice is smokey and it throws me off.

“Pardon?”

“My name is Gabby.”

I stare at her a moment then nod.  “Right.  Gabby.  I’m Sargent Lawson.  Constable Johnston is no longer going to be dealing with your case.  I’m sorry that you had such a bad experience with him, but I will be taking over from here.”

She nods, her hair bouncing around her shoulders as her head moves.

“So, Gabby.  Tell me what’s going on.”

She leans forward in her seat, her face determined.  “My brother hasn’t been home in two days.  He’s nineteen.”  I say nothing, waiting for her to continue.  She takes a deep breath and keeps going.  “His name is Derrick.  I know kids take off all the time, but Derrick wouldn’t do that.  He wouldn’t leave without telling me where he was going.”  Tears fill her eyes.  “We’re all each other has,” she whispers.  Her eyes meet mine once more.  “Something is wrong.”

I nod.  “Okay.  So where was Derrick going the last time he left the house?”

She shrugs.  “I don’t know, really.  He kind of comes and goes as he pleases.  We both do.”

“Was he with anyone?”

She shakes her head.  “He was alone.”

“Where does he normally go?”

Her face falls slightly and a tear slips from her eye and slides down her cheek.  “I don’t know.  I know he hangs out at a pool hall sometimes, but other than that, I have no clue.  Oh, God.”  Her voice trembles.  “I’m the worst big sister ever.  I never ask where he goes.  I do know he spends a lot of time with his friend Tommy.  They’ve been inseparable since they were little kids.”

I lean forward and catch her eyes.  “Gabby, you’re not the worst sister ever.  Look, I’m not a big sister, but I am a big brother.  If I asked my sister to report to me where she was going all the time, she’d kick my ass.”  I smirk and feel like a fucking champion when she smiles.

For the next forty-five minutes, I ask her every question I can think of to help me find her brother.  I know that I need to turn this over to the Missing Persons Unit, but the more she talks, the more I think I can help her myself.  I’ve been on the Street Crimes Unit now for a year and a half, and if there is one thing I know, it’s the Crips.  If Derrick is messed up with that street gang, I am the one that will find him.  And I will find him.

When we’re finished talking, I walk Gabby to the main entrance of the police station and stare down at her.  She is much shorter than me — the top of her head barely meets my shoulder.  “Okay, Gabby.  I have your number on the paperwork you filled out.”  I hand her my card.  “Now you have mine.  If you hear anything that you think might be useful, please don’t hesitate to call or text me, at any time.  I will make sure to keep you up to date on this as well.”  She nods gratefully, her beautiful eyes once again filling with tears.  I know I shouldn’t touch her, but I can’t help it.  Reaching out, I take her hand and give it a squeeze, bending low until I meet her eyes.  “We’re gonna find him, Gabby.”

She gives me a wobbly smile and nods before giving my hand a squeeze back.  Then she lets go, turns and walks out of the building.  I stand at the doorway and watch her go, trying not to focus on the sway of her ass or the motion of her dress against her hips as she walks.  Once she’s out of sight, I mentally give myself a shake and turn my thoughts to other matters.  I head straight for the Chief’s office.  Time to deal with Frank.

Gabby

Walking into my empty house, my heart deflates when I realize that Derrick still isn’t home.  I hate how quiet it is here and I would give anything for him to just walk through that door.  Our mother moved out of this house about a year ago, when her asshole boyfriend got a transfer to Alberta.  She wanted us to go with her but we both refused.  Now they’re married, but that’s okay because they live on the other side of the country and pretty much leave Derrick and me alone.

Since Mom left, I’ve been the one to kind of take care of my brother.  I pay the bills and buy the groceries, but luckily I don't have to worry about a mortgage because the house is paid for.  That was the one smart thing Mom did.  Derrick has it pretty easy.  I don’t ask much of him, other than to clean up after himself and take out the garbage.  He even does it on occasion.  I’m five years older than him and even though he’s already graduated high school, the kid can’t make a box of Kraft Dinner without burning the noodles to the bottom of the pot.

He does stuff for me, too, though.  He takes care of the yard in the summer and the snow in the winter, and I’ve never had to think about maintenance on my car because he takes care of that, too.  We’re a team.  And now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do.

Flopping down on the couch, I toss my purse aside and slip off my black slingback pumps, propping my tired feet up on the coffee table.  I rest my head against the back of the couch and blow out a long breath.  I don’t know what else to do.  I spent about an hour with Sargent Lawson and, unlike his douchebag co-worker, I know he will do everything he can to find Derrick.  But will it help?

Like I’ve done a million times in the last two days, I snatch up my purse, dig out my phone and dial my brother’s cell.  It rings five times before the voicemail picks up.  “Hey, you’ve reached Derrick.  I’m probably at home and screening my calls.  Leave a message, and if you’re lucky, I’ll call ya back.”

On the long beep, I squeeze my eyes closed and press the phone tighter to my ear.  “Derrick?  It’s Gabby.  Again.  Just … Derrick, I’m scared.  Please call me.  I need to know that you’re okay.”  I end the call and spend the next several seconds staring at my phone.  And then I have an idea.

Jumping up, I dash up the stairs to Derrick’s room and flip open his MacBook.  I don’t even bother checking his Facebook or his email because he has both password protected, but I am able to access his contact list.  Clicking on it, I scroll through the names until I find the one I’m looking for.  Tommy Lewis.

Unlocking my iPhone once more, I tap out Tommy’s phone number and hit send.  It rings five times and then the voicemail picks up.  “Talk to me!”

Sighing with frustration, I wait for the beep.  “Tommy!  This is Gabby.  I really need to talk to you.  I haven’t heard from Derrick in two days now.  I’m worried.  Call me back, okay?”  I leave him my phone number and hang up.

Taking a look around Derrick’s room, my heart sinks even further.  His room is disgusting, but that’s nothing new.  The thing that gets me most is the pictures taped to the wall.  There are snapshots of his buddies and of him, and ones of him and girls and at parties.  The pictures I love the most though are the ones of Derrick and me.  There are several of them.  Me and Derrick sitting on the dock at the lake when we were kids.  The two of us, last year, sitting in the backyard with a beer in our hands.  And my favourite, me and Derrick a few years ago when I was teaching him how to drive.  The picture is taken from outside the car.  He's sitting in the driver’s seat with a huge grin on his face while I lean in from the passenger side, attempting to look terrified, but you can tell I’m laughing.  Mom took that one.

God.  Mom.  I need to call her and tell her what’s going on.  Turning, I leave Derrick’s room, close the door behind me and walk back down the stairs.  I pull up my Mother’s number and hit send.  Yet again, after a few rings, I get her voicemail.  At the beep, I leave my message.

“Mom, it’s Gabby.  Look, um … I just wanted you to know that, well … that Derrick hasn’t been home in a couple of days and I’m starting to get really worried.  Give me a call when you get this.”

I end the call and flop back on the couch once again.  I feel so lost and alone.  My eyes fill with tears and I can’t stop imagining all of the different and horrible things that could have happened to my brother.

Tears slide down my cheeks as I think about my mother and how she should be here to help me deal with this.  I hate how selfish she is to have left us here on our own so she could go off and marry that asshole, Larry.  But it’s nothing new really.  I know my Mom loves us in her own way, but she has always kind of been focused on her own life.  We were an afterthought.  Derrick and I have been taking care of ourselves in one way or another for years.

Sitting up, I take a deep, shaky breath and run my hands down my face to wipe away the tears.  I need to smarten up.  I need to stop whining and stop waiting for someone to help me.  Derrick needs me.  It’s time to pull up my big girl panties and go find my brother.

Daniel

It’s almost nine o’clock when I finally walk through my door.  It was a long day at work.  I’m tired and hungry and I need a goddamn beer.  After Gabby left the station, I made the Chief aware of what had happened with Frank.  It wasn’t the first complaint he’d heard about Frank’s lack of professionalism and he assured me that it would be handled.  I just hope he’s right.

Walking into my apartment, I head right for the fridge, crack open a beer and make myself a sandwich.  I’m just smearing a thick layer of mayo on a slice of bread when my phone rings.  I instantly recognize the ringtone as the one I’ve assigned for my sister, Laynie.

Dropping the knife on the counter, I move towards my phone, licking mayo off my fingers.  “Hello?”

“Hey, Daniel!  How are you?”

I smile at her easy tone, but my heart clenches just a little as I hear the proper words.  My sister and I are close and I’ve always been protective of her.  Years ago, Laynie and our brother Garrett had been on their way home from prom when their car was struck head on by a drunk driver.  Laynie had suffered a head injury that had left her completely blind, and Garrett had died on impact.  The crushing loss we’d suffered that fateful night had made our bond even stronger – but lately, things had been different.  Laynie had met a guy and I don’t like him one bit.  This new boyfriend of hers is a biker, and a criminal, and the worst man possible for my baby sister.

Laynie does what she wants, though.  She’s a strong woman and though she loves me, she does what she thinks is best for her, with or without my approval.  I respect that, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“Hey, Laynie.  I’m good.  What’s up?”

“Nothing, really.  Just called to say hi.”  She pauses and I wait, knowing there’s more.  “Oh, and Travis and I went to Mom and Dad’s for the weekend.  We just got back.  Mom sent you something.”

I raise my brows.  She took Travis to our parent’s house?  I don’t say anything, not wanting to piss her off.  “What is it?”

“I don’t know.  I think it’s a birthday present.”

Rolling my eyes, I grab the plate with my sandwich, snag my beer then walk to the living room and sit on the couch.  I arrange my supper on the coffee table and sit back with the phone still to my ear.

“Yeah.  Probably.  I’ve been busy lately and haven’t been by to see them.”

Laynie chuckles.  “Yeah.  She may have mentioned that once or twice.”  I smirk, knowing that Mom probably whined about my absence the entire visit.  “Anyways, since your birthday is in a couple of days she sent it home with us.  She asked that we get it to you as soon as possible, so Travis is going to stop by with it in the morning.  Will you be home?”

I cringe at the thought of that asshole even knowing where I live, let alone stopping by.  “Yeah.  I’ll be here.”

“Great!”  Laynie sounds so happy — happier than I’ve ever heard her.  Could it be that this asshole makes her happy?  “And I was thinking!  Since your birthday is in a couple of days, maybe you could come for supper?”  She pauses for a moment and then sing-songs, “I’ll make your favourite.”

I laugh.  “Alright, I’ll come.  But I want chocolate cake.  And I mean real chocolate cake this time.  None of that gluten-free shit you made me last year.”

Laynie’s musical laughter echoes through the phone, making me smile.  “Deal.”

I finish up my conversation with my sister and then sit back to eat my supper.  Flipping through channels, my mind wanders to Derrick Monroe.  His sister seemed pretty worried about him, which makes me believe that she’s right and something is definitely wrong.  I passed the case off to the Missing Persons Unit, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do a little investigation of my own.

Looking around my bare apartment, I decide to do just that.  There’s a nightclub downtown where the Crips tend to hang out.  There’s no reason I can’t go there myself, have a couple of drinks and maybe look around while I’m there.  Maybe I’ll even see Derrick.

Nodding at my own decision, I put my plate in the sink and head off to the shower.  It doesn’t take me long to get ready for a night on the town.  A quick shower, shave and a splash of cologne and I’m off to the bar.

The line up outside is long for this time of night but it seems to be moving quickly.  I only wait outside for about five minutes before the bouncer finally nods and lifts the rope, allowing me to enter the busy nightclub.

All around me, scantily dressed women squeal and laugh and dance and drink while the men stand around talking and looking tough while they down drinks of their own.  Grabbing a drink from the bartender, I scan the crowd, instantly recognizing several gang members that are well-known to the police.

I’m just making my second scan across the room when I see her.  Leaning up against a wall in the far corner, lips painted as red as her short, low-cut dress, is Gabby.  And she’s talking to a Crip.