Rogue Alliance (45 page)

             
She couldn’t help laughing along with him. Self-conscious, she pulled at her shirt.

             
“So I take it you didn’t see anything down at the river?”
Shawn asked.

             
“I didn’t really think that I would.”

             
Ten minutes later
,
they were in the small lobby of Jiffy Lube waiting for Carmen’s father to take his first break of the day. The smell of oil was thick. The furniture was dingy with remnants of the black residue. There was a small television on the counter that looked to be about two decades old
,
with more white static
than there was picture.

             
Shawn shuffled to the coffee pot and jabbed a thumb toward the mud-like contents.

             
“Cup of coffee?”

             
She scrunched her nose.

             
“I would kill for a cup of coffee, but not even on a good day, would I drink whatever that is.”

             
He laughed.

             
The tinkle of the door opening alerted them to someone entering the lobby. They turned and faced Mr. Dunsworth. He didn’t look scared, or nervous about the fact that h
is daughter was still missing, but irritated at being disturbed
. He held a greasy rag in his hands and was viciously rubbing away at the oil on his palms. Shyla doubted that his hands were ever really free of the black stains.

             
“I hear you two want to talk to me. I’ve got a fifteen minute break. We can talk right here since we don’t have any customers right now.”

             
Shyla noticed that he kept his eyes on Shawn, refusing to even acknowledge her.

             
Shawn reached out to shake his hand.

             
“Hello, Mr. Dunsworth,” he said,”
I’m Officer Daniels. This is Officer Ericson. We’ve been working to find your daughter.”

             
Mr. Dunsworth looked down his nose at Shawn’s outstretched hand.

             
“I’d shake, but my hands are filthy.”

             
Shawn took the hint and tucked his hand in his pocket.

             
“When was the last time you saw Carmen, Mr. Dunsworth?”
he asked.

             
“You can call me Dusty. I don’t see that girl much. I’m out the door well before she gets her lazy butt out of bed and she’s usually out running around with her friends by the time I get home. I usually stop by Dirty Dave’s tavern for a few hours after work, so shit, I guess maybe the last time I seen her was…Sunday afternoon?”

             
Shyla noticed the small twitch in Shawn’s cheek. He was probably as irritated with Dusty Dunsworth’s lackadaisical attitude toward his runaway daughter as she was.

             
“So
,
did your wife call you at work yesterday and tell you that Carmen was missing or did you find out later that evening when you got home?” Shawn asked.

             
Dusty cocked his head to the side and looked out the window as if thinking about other things.

             
“She called me at work all upset. But I told her not to get worked up. Carmen comes and goes all the time. She’s a teenager. She’s gonna be doing whatever she’s gonna be doing.”

             
Shyla could no longer hold her tongue.

             
“She’s only thirteen
years old,
”
she cut in.

             
The accusation in her tone had him snap his head around. Finally, he made eye contact and if looks could kill…

             
His cold look blended into an arrogant sneer.

             
“You’re Chad’s daughter ain’t ya?”

             
Shyla clenched her teeth and tried hard not to show a response.

             
“Yeah, you are,” he continued,
“I remember seeing you with him a few times. You loo
k the same. Little taller maybe. Bigger tits, but yeah, you’re her.
”

             
Shyla saw red. She wanted to pummel Carmen’s father in the face until his bones gave way to a bloody pulp. Shawn came to the rescue.

             
“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” he sa
id with a gruff tone of warning, “a
nd I don’t see how that has anything to d
o with where your daughter is
. Now if you could, we’d like you to help us make a list of possible places she might have gone or any friends that she might have decided to visit.”

             
Dustin’s eyes were still locked with Shyla’s. At first
,
he’d refused to look at her. Now he was refusing to look away. She knew he was purposely messing with her head. No wonder Carmen was struggling at home so much. She imagined a few slaps from her mom was nothing compared to living with this asshole. For the millionth time, she mentally kicked herself for being such a coward and abandoning her. If she had just gone to the damn dinner, she thought, they wouldn’t be in this current predicament.

             
“Seein’ as how I know who you are now,
”
Dustin said, licking his lips, “
I don’t think I want my daughter hangin’ around you anyway. Maybe I should be asking you where she is.”

             
Shyla gave him a cocky grin
,
refusing to give in to his intimidation.

             
“So, Mr. Dunsworth,
I have another question for you. W
here were you the night before last, oh let’s say…around two in the morning?”

             
Confusion knotted his brow and answered her question. Despite his clear disdain toward her, she doubted he was the one who’d thrown that brick through her window.

             
“Two in the morning…” he said
, “well
,
being that I had to work the next day, I’d say I was probably about two hours into sleeping in my bed
. List
en you guys, this is fun and all, but I gotta get back to work. I got bills to pay. My wife can answer any questions that I can, probably more. Besides, Carmen’s fine. She’s probably pissed at us and trying to cause a bunch of unnecessary drama. It’s a woman thing. She’ll turn up.”

             
Shawn held out his business card.

             
“We’ll be in touch,” he said,
“i
n the meantime, if you hear anything, or have any questions of us, just call me at that number.”

             
Dusty snagged the card and popped it into his left breast-pocket, just behind where his name was stitched into his uniform.

             
“Sure.”

             
Shyla and Shawn walked out the door with a ringing of the bell above. To Shyla’s relief
,
Sha
wn didn’t bring up
the way Dusty had tested her.

*

             
Shyla was starting
to feel stretched to her limits, taught like a rubber band and ready to s
nap if anything else tested the
tension. It was Saturday, day six since Carmen first went missing. At first, Shyla had been like everyone else and had assumed that Carmen would turn up within the first forty-eight hours. But
,
as each subsequent day passed, the dread in her gut cinched so tight, she thought she would turn inside-out.

             
Where could she be?
S
he thought as she paced back and forth from her kitchen to her living area. She and Shawn had been making their rounds for most of the day, but by sunset, they were both on edge with nerves. Shyla was grumpy, talking only when necessary and with biting, nasty sarcasm when she did.
To Shawn’s
credit, he’d been a good sport about it, but by the end of that day, he too was curt and gruff.

             
With no leads, no signs of Carmen, she went home and hoped to let go of the worry for a few hours. What she needed was a nap. Sleep had been nearly nonexistent. What she really wanted was a drink. She’d managed sobriety all week hoping to be at her best, even wishing that by being clean she’d earn god’s favor and he’d
return Carmen safe and sound, but her will was faltering and
her smidgen of faith was wavering.

             
When she scoured her apartment in search of something strong to drink, she came up empty handed. Restless, she decided it would be a good excuse to get out of that small, cramped unit anyway. For the first time since she’d been back in Redding, she decided to find a bar. There was a fairly nice wine bar just a few blocks down, but she didn’t want swanky. She wanted gritty and gnarly, to match the way she felt.

             
Remembering Dusty Dunsworth’s mention of Dirty Dave’s
,
she grabbed her white Northface jacket and slammed the front door behind her.

             
Snow was falling and beginning to stick to the ground and the tops of trees. She barely noticed. All she could think of was the anticipation of the burn of alcohol as it slid down the back of her throat and the relief as it chased away the sensation of drowning in her own misery.

             
Dirty Dave’s was just that; dirty. There was a distinct odor of sweat and
urine which permeated the air. Alt
hough they had a kitchen which boasted serving ‘the best hot wings in town’ and other assortments of fried food, she seriously doubted anyone could eat from there and not walk away with a deadly bout of food poisoning. But she wasn’t there to eat.

             
Ignoring the stares, she bypassed the fifteen or so customers mingling around a single pool table or sitting at the few small circular tables and headed straight for the bar.

The bartender was the only one who seemed less than interested.

             
“What can I get ya?”
he asked.

             
“You got Patron?”

             
“Does it look like we’d have Patron, missy?
”
he scoffed,”
We got Sauza Silver, 1800 Select, and of course, good old Jose Cuervo.”

             
She was in no mood to be picky.

             
“I’ll take Jose on the rocks,” she said, “d
ouble.”

             
With a raise of his eyebrows
,
he poured her a more than generous drink.

             
Shyla
took it down in two bold swallows, slammed it down and ordered another.

The barte
nder gave her a nod of approval.

             
“Now that’s
a woman,” he said, poured her another
.

             
The warm, gold liquid was already caressing her soul, reminding her of its unwavering loyalty. It was always there for her.

             
M
usic was belting out of a ju
kebox. It was some sort of
grunge song, one she wasn’t familiar with, but it felt good to tap her foot to
i
t nonetheless as it reverberated through her body. She was feeling so much better already.

             
An hour later
,
she was two sheets to the
wind.
The room was starting to spin and Shyla was suddenly very
anxious to get home. She headed to the toilet; s
itting on the toilet, the world was refusing to stop spinning faster and faster and she knew that the night ahead was going to be rough. She just had to keep it together till she got home. She could do it.

             
When she stepped out of the bathroom,
t
he bartender gave her a wary look.

             
“I’m not ordering”
she explained, “
I just need to call a cab,”

             
Clearly relieved, he reached under the bar and pulled out the cordless phone.

             
“No worries. I’ve got them on fast dial. I’ll give ‘em a call.”

             
“Thanks,
”
she said.
She hoped they
’d hurry. Her tummy was rolling,
“I’m just going to step outside for a bit, get some fresh air.”