Gone at Zero Hundred 00:00 (17 page)

“So, they’ve been listening to me?” I
said, disgusted by the thought that my privacy had been invaded. Then a couple
things occurred to me, but one that stood out. “That’s how they knew I was
meeting Tamara.”

“Syd, I think we should look through
the stuff, again,” he said, as he raked his hands through his hair. “Maybe we
can figure this whole thing out if we put both of our minds together.”

We went upstairs and sat down on the
sofa. I opened the bag of peanut butter M’M’s, and stuffed a few in my mouth. I
didn’t eat much at the restaurant, and I was starving. Then, I pulled
everything out and spread it out on the coffee table. We looked through the
photos, again. Then Cody tried to analyze the note. While he did, I opened my
laptop and did a few Google searches: Teen abductions. Private Clubs.
Underground Clubs. I spent a good hour reading through all the links, and the
articles attached.

“I think this could be about human
trafficking,” I announced sometime later. “Look at this” I maneuvered the
laptop around so Cody could have a look.

“A few months ago, law enforcement
agencies sent out a bulletin warning that smuggling drugs and humans was
becoming one of the most profitable illegal businesses, and suburban teens were
being targeted.”

Cody stopped what he was doing, and
sat back into the leather sofa. “Human trafficking, hmm…”

“I thought they usually smuggled
immigrants into the US, like they did in that movie,
Trafficking
, or
that it happened abroad, like in
Taken
. But, this…”

“Love of the all-mighty dollar makes
people do some pretty hideous things,” Cody said, disgusted. “Trafficking?
Okay, so where are they?”

“I don’t know, for sure,” I said, but
something was dawning on me. “I’m just throwing things out there right now
trying to figure it all out. Maybe The Privileged Ones are running the
operation. We’re close to the harbor. Easy in, easy out…”

Cody stood up and walked over to the
bay window. From the second floor of the firehouse, there was a full view of
the harbor and marina. “You could be right, Syd. But, how come we haven’t heard
anything about any missing teenagers? From those photos, I’m guessing their
ages to be fifteen to twenty-something, if that. That would be all over the
news.”

“We have to be careful though,” I
said, remembering Carter’s words of warning. “Cops could be involved.”

Cody looked back at me, and raised
his eyebrows. “You serious? So that’s why Tamara reached out to your mom, and
then you?”

“I think so.” She didn’t trust cops,
which gave me further proof that a cop was involved.

He walked back, and grabbed his
leather bag on his way to the sofa. “Why don’t you hit the sack, and try and
get some sleep?” He pulled his laptop out of the bag. “I’m going to do a little
work, and see what I can come up with. Maybe I can try voice detection
software, and see if we can I.D. the guy on the DVD.”

I nodded. There wasn’t much else I
could do, anyway. I wouldn’t know what to look for on the computer. We bumped
fists, and I shuffled down to my room. I changed into a pair of boxer shorts
and a tank top, piled my hair on top of my head and brushed my teeth. When my
head hit the pillow, thoughts about the case rambled around in my head before I
was able to drift off; then I had the same recurring dream I always had about a
fictional dad.

WHEN I got up the following morning,
there was a text from Cody. 1) Need shit @ home, be back l8tr; 2) The Devil’s
Door could be club for The Privileged Ones.

“The Devil’s Door, just what I was
thinking,” I said to myself.

I poured some water into the blender,
added ice, protein powder, strawberries, oranges, bananas, yogurt, and super
greens for energy.  After I finished the healthy breakfast, I went through
my usual chores; then went to take a hot shower. I had no intention of wasting
my day merely doing surveillance. Today, I was ready to take some aggressive
action. Before I left the firehouse, I double-checked my backpack to make sure
my army knife was inside; then I headed into my mom’s room and looked in the
bureau. I snagged some miscellaneous items and a little cash from her top
drawer. Then, I opened her weapons box, grabbed a hand-held ultraviolet
flashlight and a can of Mace, and dropped them in my backpack.

The law firm of Grant & Levy is
on the penthouse floor of a skyscraper filled with entertainment and business
attorneys. I have never been to the office before, but I knew I could make it
up to penthouse without a problem from security. They only check to see who
comes and goes after business hours. I stepped into a crowded elevator, and
pushed the button for the penthouse. The couple just to my left gave me a funny
look, like maybe I was in the wrong place. He was middle-age with a touch of
silver in his gelled hair, while she was barely twenty-five. I ignored their
looks, but I knew what they meant. I stood out like a sore thumb in my ripped
jeans and boots, walking among a lobby full of pin-stripe suits and designer
skirts.

When the elevator reached the
penthouse floor, I stepped out and almost jumped three-feet in the air, when I
saw the man-eating eyes of a piranha staring back at me. No, actually, it was
about a dozen piranhas. They were swimming around in a wall-size aquarium that
was built into the imported tiles, and looked like they were waiting to be fed.
Yikes! Once I got over the initial shock of seeing them, and realized they
couldn’t get out, I headed toward the front desk.

The law firm took up the entire
floor, and there was only one entrance, so I had to get past the gatekeeper
sitting out front. This one was middle-aged, but you wouldn’t know it. Her suit
was conservative, but she kept it hip by wearing a large pair of gold-looped
earrings, trendy ankle boots and her manicured nails were painted bright red to
match the gloss on her lips.

She peered up at me from a behind a
computer monitor. “Grant & Levy, how can I help you?”

“Hi,” I said in a cheery voice, and
offered her an innocent smile. I tried to speak in a high-pitched tone like the
cheerleaders that hung out with Cody, but added a touch of sweetness. I wasn’t
sure my sarcastic personality would pass the test on this one.

“I’m here to see Aaron Grant, but I
was really hoping to surprise him. You see, I’m a friend of his from Chadmont
Private School, and well, I haven’t seen him since summer started.”

This is where things were tricky. If
the receptionist chose to announce me, I didn’t know whether he would see me.
Plus, that would have given him the upper hand. I was hoping I could persuade
her otherwise. I was going out on a limb with the lie. All she had to do was
look at my clothing, and know I wasn’t fit for Chadmont. But I was hoping she
would just think I was one of those rich kids who wasted mucho bucks buying
ripped jeans. My mom would have flipped if she knew there were actually
designer stores that sold ripped jeans for big money.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but she looked
disappointed. “I can’t let anyone in without announcing them. The last time I
did that, they sent me home without pay.”

I thought she was joking, but the
look on her face said she wasn’t. “You’re kidding. Really? What is this grade
school?” The minute said it, I wanted to kick myself, but I couldn’t stop
myself.

Thankfully, she chuckled. “You’re
right of course. But, they’re neurotic around here. Somebody has to hold their
hands.”

“And I guess that person always has
to be you?”

“Yes, I’m the lucky one,” she said,
but I could tell by her expression that her job could be very tiring.

“I understand,” I said, and tried to
put on a pouty face like I’ve seen the cheerleaders do when they didn’t get
their way. “If you have to announce me, then go ahead. I wouldn’t want to hurt
your job. I was just hoping to surprise him, that’s all.”

She looked at me sympathetically, and
I could tell she was debating whether or not to give in. She glanced up and
down the hall to see if anyone was within earshot. “Do you know where his
office is located?” She finally asked.

“Yes, I used to come here and hang
out with him in the cafeteria when he first started here.” She was caving. I
could see it. The last thing I wanted to do was admit I had no idea where his
office was, and I was only guessing that a big law firm like this would have a
cafeteria.

After taking another moment to think
about it, she looked around to see if anyone was listening. She leaned in close.
“Tell ya what, go on back. If he asks, tell him I was away from my desk. I can
tell him I had to make another pot of coffee. The partners can’t live without
the stuff.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said in my most
cheerful voice. “You can count on me.” After I was through with Aaron Grant I
didn’t think he would want anyone to know he even had a visitor.

I walked past several cubicles acting
as if I knew where I was going. Nosey secretaries peeked out from behind their
cubicles, and gossiped to their neighbors. With the arrogance Aaron had, I
figured he probably had a window office, and I was right. I just didn’t expect
he would have one of the large corner offices, until I came to a door with:
Aaron Grant engraved in gold letters on the mahogany-wood door.

I reached into my backpack, grabbed
the photographs and the can of Mace. I didn’t bother to knock. I opened the
door, marched in and closed it behind me. The nosey secretaries could talk all
they wanted, now.

THE MINUTE Aaron Grant looked up from
his desk and saw me standing there, he tried to figure out a way to get the
photos out of my hands and remove me from his office, without causing too much
attention and getting blinded in the process.

“What’s the matter, Aaron?” I spat out
at him. “You don’t look happy to see me.” After seeing his reaction, there was
no doubt in my mind he was involved up to his eyeballs. I still needed to know
to what degree. I made a cursory glance around the office. Paraphernalia from
exotic locations covered the walls and bookcases.

“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?” He demanded.

“Are your bosses aware of your
extra-curricular activities?” I asked innocently. “Is your father?” I held the
photos up so he could see. I wanted to Mace him, just because the guy was as
arrogant as they come, but that wouldn’t help me get answers.

“What do you want?” He hissed at me.

“I want to know who killed Tamara.”

“How do I know who killed her? Who
knows what she got involved in? It could have been anyone.”

I shoved the photograph in his face,
making sure the enlarged version of him was noticeable. He cringed. He seemed
surprised that he was actually in any of the photos. “Now, you want to try
again.”

“I don’t know who killed her!”

“Then tell me what you do know, and
don’t waste my time.” I held the Mace out in front of me - ready to spray - to
let him know I meant business.

“Get that thing away from me,” he
laughed sarcastically, while trying to grab the photos out of my hand. “You’re
an eighteen-year-old simpleton. You aren’t going to hurt anyone. He talked to
me in his arrogant and pompous way; trying to intimidate me.

Granted, I was far from being in
control, but I was raised by a strong woman. And I was determined to get the
truth. I leaned over the desk, and got in his face. “I may only be eighteen,
but don’t confuse me with Tamara. I’m not afraid of you.” Okay, maybe I was a
little afraid, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“I’d just as soon blind you, right
here and now,” I said, consumed with anger. “I know you’re involved in this
mess, and you’re going down one way or the other. Either, you give me the
information, or you can worry about where you’ll be taking showers for the next
few years. You think the cops don’t know…”

He shifted in his seat, but he wasn’t
changing his tune. He either didn’t think I knew anything, or he wasn’t afraid
of the cops. Was that because people tend to keep their mouths shut when it
came to people like him, or did he have a cop on the payroll? Was Skater and
Anchor working for him? I was closer, but I still had questions.

“You don’t have anything on me. Those
photographs don’t prove anything. Even a wallflower like you should get that.”

I wanted to smack the smirk off his
face. But, I knew that wouldn’t have an impact on him, so I came up with a
better idea. With people like Aaron, you have to hit them where it hurts.

“Okay then, let’s see how you like
this,” I said. “You say the photos can’t hurt you. Why don’t we see if the law
partners of Grant & Levy want to have a look at them, or maybe your father?
Does your father know of your behavior? Then, maybe I’ll hand them over to the
cops. Since I’m just a simpleton, maybe they can make sense out of them.”

I gathered the photos and walked
towards the door. “I wonder what they’ll have to say. You, a so-called
prestigious young man getting photographed at wild parties, where women are
paraded around like mannequins and gambling brings in a lot of dough. What’s
the matter, is daddy’s money not enough for you? I’m curious. Do you pay taxes
on that dough?”