Dogma barked with laughter. “I told ya not to propose. That’s when shit goes south.”
Gordon tossed his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. “Bah. Sex has been shit for years now. Yanking it in the shower is nothing new for me.”
I ought to shoot you in the dick.
What good-for-nothing bullshit little boy laughed with his co-worker about his goddamn sex like while his woman was missing? If my woman had been missing, I’d be out there mowing motherfuckers down with my knives across their throats until I had her back in my arms.
That man didn’t deserve her.
And Naomi deserved to know who she was really engaged to.
“Time for some pictures, asshole,” I murmured to myself.
I gathered some worn-down bricks together and created a small perch to sit my cone. With headphones on my ears recording everything I heard, I reached around behind me and slid my backpack off. The asinine conversation I had to torture myself with grew tiresome quickly. The men talked about everything from their lack of sex lives to how disgusting the Reuben sandwich was at the deli up north all the way down to court dates where they had to appear and give testimony.
And not one single time did Naomi’s disappearance come up.
“She really knows how to pick them,” I murmured as I screwed the lens onto my camera.
Snapping pictures of that asshole throwing his head back in laughter brought me a great deal of pride. That man didn’t love her. Hell, for all we knew, he didn’t have a fucking clue as to the fact that she had gone missing in the first place. I zoomed in and snapped as many pictures as possible. Pictures of him and the guys that shook hands with him as they came out of the precinct. Pictures of this ‘Dogma’ asshole and the cigarettes the traded back and forth, chain-smoking like a bunch of backwoods shitheads.
Maybe once Naomi saw that no one was coming for her at all, she’d change her tune with us.
“Hey! Lockwood! Traeger! Get your asses inside and get to work!”
Dogma and Gordon looked at one another before Gordon grinned. “Sure thing, Cap.”
The man, decorated in all sorts of patches and medals, pointed to Dogma’s hand. “Got an extra for me?”
Dogma smiled as he brandished a cigarette for his boss. “Of course. Here ya go.”
Cap nodded toward the doors. “Now, get your asses inside. The mayor’s on his way.”
As Dogma hightailed it inside, I watched Gordon step off the sidewalk. I followed him with the lens of my camera, watching him dig around in his pocket before he pulled out a set of keys. I kept him in my sights. I watched him unlock a Navy blue Subaru Forester before he reached inside for something, and a grin as wild as Ranger’s booming voice peeled across my cheeks.
Now, I knew what vehicle he drove.
I packed up my gear as quickly as possible while I listened through my headphones to their captain sucking that damn stogey down in three or four puffs. It made me shake my head as I packed everything away and clamored down off the side of that building. The worn-out brick gave me some great footholds for my toes, which made scaling the outside of the building as easy as slicing a hot knife through ice cream.
Then, I dug around in my pocket until I pulled out the GPS tracker that had been burning a hole in my thigh.
I got you now, you son of a bitch.
* * *
“All right, asshole. Let’s see what you’re really up to.”
As Gordon finally came out the front door of the police precinct, it was damn near dinner time. I had waited outside for nearly five fucking hours, waiting for that man to reappear. There was something about all of this that didn’t sit right with me. A piece of the puzzle I was missing that might help me translate exactly what I was looking at. I mean, Gordon didn’t even look to be grieving! And that meant only one of two things:
Either he didn’t know Naomi was missing, or he didn’t have to worry about her retrieval.
And it was the latter that made me follow him all the way home.
Tailing someone is an art. It takes precision, attention, and prompt execution in order to work correctly. I hadn’t chosen the best vehicle for the day, either. My bike made too much noise, which meant that the GPS tracker was my only saving grace. I couldn’t be revving around town while trying to keep a low profile three car lengths behind the man. So, as I watched the GPS screen on the tablet I held in my hands, I watched as he pulled his car out of the parking lot.
Then turned left to head toward Main Street.
Let’s see what you get up to tonight.
