Page 14 of Bleed
“You done?”
“No.”
“Well you’d better be. Now, get back to finding the Recluse. You’re running out of time and I’m running out of patience for your bullshit.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you too, brother.”
Grumbling, I climb off him and offer him my hand to get up. He’s right, we are brothers, in a fucked-up world and fucked up family. We may not be blood, but we’ve been through some shit together, and this, this is just a hiccup in our relationship.
Motherfucker.
With a slap to my helmet again he turns me around and pushes me towards the front door that’s still hanging wide open. The guns aimed on me lower, and I walk out of the house, feeling a little better, but not much.
“I’ll find her.” I say as I look back over my shoulder then walk out the door with an annoyed huff.
Chapter Eight
Sleep evades me, and I toss and turn in my bed. Now instead of just visions of Dani, I can see the mess I made of my friend. I’m too irritated to stay in bed, even though morning for me is only an hour away. Grunting, I get up off my bed and trudge out to the kitchen, snapping on the light and flicking on the coffee machine.
If I can’t focus on sleep, then I need to put my energy towards something I can do. The Recluse is a hard one to find, but there has to be some clues in the stuff I have still scattered on my table. Just the fact that she was spotted here in Charlotte is a big thing. If she’s that close, Iwillfind her.
The sun begins to rise as I shuffle through the photos and documents, creeping its bright light across the room until it’s blaring on the shiny surface of the pictures, announcing the day is progressing faster than I have anticipated. Either that or I’ve been lost in the work so much that the morning has already passed way more than it should have.
A quick glance at the clock on the microwave across the room shows I’m already two hours late for getting to the restaurant at my regular time, and that pisses me off too. I know though, that I need to focus on this more than the kitchen.
Whipping out my phone I send a quick text to Valentino, telling him to bump the sous chef to my place for the next few days. I need to center my attention on this, and nothing else.
His response of “ok asshole” comes through almost instantly and I shake my head, tossing the cell onto the table amongst the mess of surveillance stuff.
“Okay you sneaky little woman, where are you?” I ask the pile of pictures in my grasp before setting them down to pick up a couple of others, leafing through them slowly.
I scan over the ones of her shopping in that boutique, and notice that the boyfriend is in every one, not necessarily in focus or as part of the actual view but he’s there, always in the background. His body language is more protector, almost bodyguard like instead of young man foolishly in love.
“Hmmm, wait a minute…” I say out loud to no one but myself.
Hurriedly I grab my laptop and the handheld scanner I bought myself a year ago for uploading things to the computer. The picture scans quickly and in seconds it’s on my laptop screen.
“Now, will facial recognition pick you up, you little shit?”
Impatiently I watch the little spinning circle in the center of the display as the program runs through every database on earth that the family was able to get access to. Being a major international crime organization with a shit ton of law enforcement agencies in their pockets makes it good for us. I have all of their systems available to me.
If only I had a decent picture of her face.
The computer runs through one database after another, spinning and churning, occasionally making a noise as it flips between one government agency to the next. It’s a long process but worth it when the circle disappears and up pops an arrest report.
“Arrested for aggravated assault in Venice. Nice to meet you Jonathan Mercer, American citizen, son of Richard and Elaine Mercer from Boston.” I say, tapping my finger on the screen, then rubbing the tip of it over the tear drop tattoo under his eye.
With a few clicks I send the information over to my phone, including the clearer picture from his mug shot. If I can’t find her directly, I’ll track her down through him. I pull up the info and send it over to Valentino for an update, then go to my room to change. With that done, and a lead they can help me follow, I want to spend a little time convincing myself that the woman in the café isn’t really Dani, and it’s all a figment of my imagination.
Satisfied with what I’ve found so far, and my new plan, I pick up my coffee cup, swig the now cold remnants of it, and toss the mug into the sink. The door closes behind me, and I make my way back down to Luna. It’s about time I get my head on straight and get back to myself.
~~~
The café is quiet, with only a few patrons sitting around at the comfy table and chair set-ups, drinking their coffees and lattes, and reading or working on laptops. It’s quiet and peaceful, and I’m practically falling asleep on the cushy little sofa I’ve perched myself upon. The caffeine in the three cups of espresso I’ve had so far isn’t doing shit to keep me awake.
Fuck man, lack of sleep sucks.
