It was past two o’clock in the morning when I received the call. Quite late, of course, but when you’re in the line of work that I am, you are bound to get called at the oddest of hours…
Murphy Keith’s husband had left their house at four of the afternoon, telling her that he was visiting an ailing friend of his and would be back before nightfall. But Murphy hadn’t heard from him since.
From what I had known about the Keiths, they were not normal people. I mean, of course they were a fairly normal couple who seemed to be living a fairly normal life. But the reason why they ended up in Centaury, a remote village at the easternmost coast of Louisiana, was not normal.
Silas Keith, actually, used to work for Jordan K, once upon a time. Jordan K was―and still is―the biggest dealer of meth that the US had ever seen. Silas had been his right hand, in fact. Had been―straight until the day he met Murphy. Then everything changed. Silas and Murphy got married, Silas left Jordan K and his drugs, and the newly wedded Keiths ran away to that tiny, little village that not even every American would have heard of.
I let out a sigh full of grief.
Oh, well. Murphy probably didn’t watch enough gangster movies. Did the good guy that fell into bad company, ever make it out alive after he left it?
No.
Poor Silas, I thought. Leaving JK’s clutches hadn’t been that easy, after all. Jordan K wasn’t a feared name for no reason.
I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, put a stop to my weird train of thoughts, and left the comfort of my bed. I had a job to do.
I dialled Polka’s number, and she picked up on the second ring. She always did.
“What is it?” She didn’t even sound sleepy. Did she even sleep? Always straight to the business―that was Polka for you.
“Keith. Silas Keith. S-I-L-A-S. Went missing about eleven hours ago. Find out everything you can,” I grunted into the phone with a little sleepy slur in my voice. Polka didn’t seem to mind―she was habitual to listening to my half-asleep voice, after all. “You’ve got till the morning. His wife’s worried sick.”
Polka’s snort made me want to smile. She rarely expressed her emotions. “Sucks to be her, tonight.”
See? Her sass was too much on point, too. “Call me,” I said, unnecessarily, and tossed my phone back to the nightstand.
Now all there was to do, was wait.
And trust Polka, of course.
I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing.
Ah. That was the only thing that woke up me, these day, I swear!
It was half past four of the morning, and Polka was calling. I smiled. My loyal girl had finished her work.
“Yes?” I directly questioned, knowing how she’d be wanting to puke out every piece of information, as fast as she could.
“I’ve sent you the address. But beware – his location’s been changing every half hour.” She sounded excited, and I smiled, again. “It should take you hardly twenty minutes to get there, if you leave right now, though, so… You should be fine. Just try and keep your phone nearby.”
I sat up in my bed, and stretched. “Will do.”
After Polka disconnected the call, I pulled out the text message she’d sent me. The name of the place was too complicated to be read by an outsider. I rolled my eyes. If I were to forward this information to Murphy, she wouldn’t even be able to reach the damned warehouse!
But, then, I was doing this job for a reason. And that reason didn’t involve sending Silas’ wife to where I’d found him.
I exhaled and left my bed.
Silas looked, oddly, very awfully beaten up when I peered at him through the broken window pane of the warehouse. I clicked my tongue, grimacing when I saw how one of his wrists was twisted at an odd angle.
“Boss.”
I jumped, almost knocking my head into the broken window, and then I clicked my tongue again. “Must you scare the crap out of me like this?” I asked Patty.
Oh, well. I should say I must have known this was Patty’s doing when I saw Silas’ condition. No one was quite as brutal with their punches and kicks as this mountain-man standing next me.
I let out a deep sigh. “Why did you break his wrist?”
“Why did he break the code?” Patty hissed back at me, and I had to flinch away from the six-feet-something giant that dwarfed my five-feet-three frame in a rather threatening fashion.
“He fell in love, Patty,” I told him, patting at his shoulder. “Women tend to change people.”
I looked back at the bloodied body of Silas Keith.
“Um, Patty… the name of this place is a riddle in itself. What do you say about picking this one’s wife up from their house?”
Patty nodded and left, and I smiled in his wake.
I could count on Patty, just as well as I could count on Polka.
“Well, well,” I mumbled to myself. “Buckle up, Jordan. Looks like you’ve finally got work to do, today…”
–END–
