Page 19 of Bad Enough

“Exactly,” TB confirmed.

“Huh? That sounds like an oxymoron,” Nemo said.

“Wow. Did you save up all your pennies to buy that word, Nerfherder?”

Nemo grinned. “Nice movie reference. There’s hope for you yet.”

“The point is,” Waters interrupted, “the average person is socially conditioned to patterns in their behaviors. But what happens if you need to do something in a space where you can’t avoid cameras, like a store, but need to go unnoticed?”

Midas looked at his brother. “Dude. You know this answer. Walk yourself through the Metropolitan Art Museum job.”

Nemo’s brow furrowed. “Well, I never went to the same rooms in the same order. I went through different doors if there were options. If I ate there, I ordered something different every time; I tried to never get waited on by the same server. Didn’t pay the same way or tip too much, too little. I even went in through different doors from the outside, even if it was just one over from the one I’d normally…” His face cleared. “Ah. Now I get it. Watch for the people who are repeating things, but they’re doing them differently every time.”

“Okay, so Midas, back on the video surveillance,” God ordered. “Other ideas?”

“I can go back and hit the ground again,” Steel offered. “Maybe I missed something.”

“Unlikely,” God barked, “but we need to do something proactive. I’ll consider it. Give Midas a week to try and dig up some direction, then take Nemo with you.”

“Field trip!” Nemo hooted.

Steel’s face was blank, but TB imagined the man wasn’t all that thrilled with the partnering. Still, TB did have to admit, when Nemo was on a job and had an objective, he was frighteningly focused and meticulous. He was just annoying when there was downtime. Or he ran his mouth. Or cracked his gum. Or breathed.

“Anything else on Ka-Bar?” There was silence around the table. All of the men were looking at each other, wondering if any of them were going to bring up the elephant in the room—Kubrick.

Waters snuck one last glance at the telescreen, swallowed, and then plowed on as if sensing the direction of their thoughts. “All right, next. The Library.”

7

APRIL 13TH

TB

TB jerked his head in the direction of Waters.

The fuck?

In the background, Nemo did his best porn music imitation.

Steel smacked him upside the back of the head. “Quit fucking around, this is serious.”

Waters checked his watch and read from his notes. “Just over four hours ago, I fielded a client by the name of Nathan Moll, a tech-mogul out of Silicon Valley. His daughter, Matilda, lives with her mother, Brandy, in Los Angeles full time. He travels back and forth for his work. On the tenth, Tilly went to the kink club known as The Library, and as far as anyone can tell, she never returned home.”

Tilly’s picture flashed up on the telescreen behind Waters.

“Who reported her missing?” TB asked, his gut rolling. When he hadn’t heard differently, he had hoped that meant she had been found.

Obviously not.

God piped in over the speaker, his speech distorted by the ever-present caramel apple sucker in his mouth. “Their head of security contacted her father when no one could find her after several hours of looking. Even a complete search of the premises after it had closed for the night yielded no clues of any kind. One of my informants tells me four additional women, all members, have gone missing over the past five months.”

Five pictures of young women flashed up on the screen in order of their disappearance. A slither of unease traveled down TB’s spine, his mind reviewing the last moments he saw Tilly two days ago. The stranger. The spilled drink. The crush of people. No trace of her. He, along with Loki and Tripoli, had spent several hours looking for her, which included the after-hours search Waters had mentioned. Eventually, the head of security at the club, a computer whiz kid named Triumph, had taken over and was combing through security footage, trying to establish when she’d left the club and with whom. Last he knew, he’d made no progress. Obviously, the man took the next step when he ran out of search options.

“How did the father know to come to us?” TB asked.

“Word of mouth. Friend of a friend kind of thing,” Waters replied.

Waters picked up the thread. “The previous disappearances have been unpublicized until now. No one has been pressing the police for results, so they’ve kept it quiet. According to the most recent police report, even the club owner appeared to be in the dark until the police were called in.”

---