Without a Trace by Michael Cross

Author:Michael Cross [Cross, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I sit at the end of the bar again, still waiting for Justice to contact me. It’s just after noon, and, surprisingly, the place is empty. Arthur and I are the only ones here. I guess the barflies needed a day to dry out. Or maybe found some healthier way to drown out their sorrows. The thought almost makes me chuckles. They’ll likely be in sooner rather than later.

I look down at my phone, tempted to call Justice for an update. I don’t want to push her too hard, but I’m starting to get anxious. I need her to crack that security system and give me a window to move in. I need to get into that club and see their operation. If I can’t, there’s no way I can make a move on Agajanian.

Arthur is at the other end of the bar doing his paperwork and dealing with his vendors as I sip a beer and listen to the talking heads on the sports network dissecting the week’s big headlines which include a football player getting arrested for drugs, a basketball player getting arrested for domestic violence, and a major cheating scandal in baseball. News out of the sports world is as glum and depressing as news from the real world these days.

I look down and push on the lump beneath the skin on my arm. I can’t explain why, but it feels like a violation. I expected to be tracked by phone, computer, and car. And I didn’t raise a stink about that. But to actually put something in my body—that’s something entirely different. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get.

I hear the bell over the front doors chime and glance back to see who’s coming in. And when I see who it is, I push thoughts of the tracker in my arm to the back of my mind. Skull Ring and Goatee strut in like they own the place. They shoot a glance my way, but if they recognize me, they give no sign of it. Instead, they walk straight over to Arthur, who’s standing there staring at them dumbfounded. He quickly gathers himself and stands up a bit straighter.

“Little early, ain’t you boys?” he asks.

“Two beers,” glowers Skull Ring. This time he’s wearing a track jacket and sweatsuit.

“What do you boys want?”

“You deaf? The man ordered drinks,” sneers Goatee. “Some hospitality.”

Narrowing his eyes and clenching his jaw, Arthur turns away and shoots a look at me before pouring out a couple of beers for them. He looks embarrassed to be jumping at their commands in front of me. He’s a prideful man, but also a man who values his life, and isn’t going to put himself in unnecessary danger. I don’t blame him for that. I hate that he’s even being put in that position.

Arthur sets the beers down in front of the skinheads and turns away to get back to his work. The pair of them drink half their

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