Missing No. 2
"Hey, Cath! You seen Nick?" it's already 20 minutes past the beginning of the shift and no Nick. Not that I'd bee too keen on working with him at the moment, but we do have a case here. OK, I was incredibly five minutes late but that's not exactly a reason not to wait for your partner, is it?
Cath is about to shrug her shoulders when Sarah casually informs us "He said he would drive over to that guy and ask about the things he could translate so far.
"What guy?" I need reconfirmation although all my sirens are signaling 'red alert'.
"The guy from that weird mag. Said he had a few more questions."
"Sarah! That GUY is a suspect in a missing case! How the hell could you let him go alone?" what the hell is Nick doing? How can he put himself in such a situation without waiting for backup!
"He's what?" I can see Sarah go pale, almost greenish.
"A fucking SUSPECT. Goddamn!" in lack of any other appropriate target for my fist I slam it into the wall. Causes Greg to peek out of the lab "Where's the address?"
Silent shrugging of shoulders.
"You let him drive off alone and don't even ask for the addy?" I'm about to blow a gasket. Is everybody going lax only because Gris is away for a few days?
"Calm down, Warrick." Cath tries to get back some control and stop us from completely falling apart. I take a deep breath for an angry retort but her eyes kick me back to some kind of controlled mode. I shut my mouth.
"Sara, get the magazine and note the address." Cath instructs with an amazingly calmness. Gil's best student, no doubt. Somebody who's seen enough catastrophes to happen to keep calm until facts are presented. Hearsay cannot unsettle her.
Sara disappears in an instant.
"What the hell is up with you, Warrick?" Cath is shaking my both arms.
"Not now." I shake my head slowly, "really not now."
"It's under box-number." Sara returns, mag in hand.
"Then call the fucking editor!" I'm snapping at her. Sara must be really shaken, for she doesn't even glare at me, simply complies. Guess I'll have to pay for that later. I don't give a damn.
"It's an emergency! We're with the LVPD and –" we hear Sara's upset voice yelling at the phone. We walk in, Greg's there too, we're standing there and listening, trying to figure out what the problem is. "Right. OK. We'll send an officer over to your place." She slams the phone down.
"They're not to give away any address at the phone. We'll need a warrant."
"I'll call Brass." I grab the phone.
"And we need it in Denver, Colorado." Sara adds.
Holy Cow! It completely slipped that not every paper is printed in LV. Oh shit!
......
"Warrick, sit down for god's sake!" Sara glares at me. I'm pacing the room for....I don't know, a while at least. I check my watch for the umpteenth time. 36 minutes since we had called Brass. Why the hell does this take so long? Every five minutes I try to page Nick, call Nick – no answer. I hope that he simply doesn't want to talk to me, the pervert. I pray to god that's the reason . I would gladly have him call me a fag into my face right now. Really, I would welcome it and hug him for it! With every minute that passes the lump in my stomach grows bigger and colder. I wish Gil was here. He's always in control, always knows what to do and how to do the best.
When the phone shrills, we're all frozen. Greg's the fastest and answers the call.
"Sanders. – yes. ……...good………um-hm……gimme a sec…….." Greg grabs a pen and starts to write. We're all crowding in on him. "Thanks a lot. Bye. – hey!" he hasn't really hung up when three different hands reach for the note. Sara has the best grip on it and heads for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Cath's voice is sharp like a razor and the effect is imminent: Sara stops in her tracks.
"Well, what'cha thinking?"
Cath calmly walks over and takes the note from Sara who – strangely – offers no resistance.
"You're going to stay here, call Brass and tell him where to meet us. Greg? Make sure Sara'll stay. Warrick, come with me." She turns, completely ignoring Sara's protests. We're leaving with the address ingrained in our minds. We wouldn't have needed the written copy.
Sara is cursing and struggling but Greg is stronger – bless the male physical supreriority! He'll make sure she's going to stay in the lab. Cath is driving. Breaking every possible speed-limit. By the time we arrive Nick is missing for over an hour.
The house looks ever so normal! And empty. At least there is not a single light on. Sirens approach and soon two patrol-cars with flashing lights stop left and right of our SUV. The officers approach the door, knock, call, ring the bell.
No answer.
They demand the door to be opened.
Still nothing
Brass gives a go to break up the door and the officers storm the house. We're too tense to speak as we wait.
"Nobody in there." An officer walks out to inform us of their findings. By now the neighbors are standing in their doorways and windows, staring. "I'll go ask them if Nick's car was here earlier." Cath is already moving away while I put on my gloves and enter the house.
Looking around there's only one word that describes it: sterile. Tiled floors, no carpet anywhere, the couch covered with one of those hideous clear-pvc-covers. I always called them couch-prophylactics. Could never understand how people would want to sit on such a thing…..
Nothing. The bed is freshly made with new sheets, no used laundry, the freezer full with microwave-food. The attic of the one-story-house is empty too. In the cellar we find: noting until I turn around hastily and bump hard into an officer. The guy stumbles backwards and tries to steady himself by grabbing a shelf. But it sways and falls. Both of us manage to jump aside and evade the avalanche of canned food that tumbles down with a hell of a noise.
And then we freeze.
We stare.
We blink.
The officer makes it out, I'm too slow, throwing up where I stand.
"Hey, Cath! You seen Nick?" it's already 20 minutes past the beginning of the shift and no Nick. Not that I'd bee too keen on working with him at the moment, but we do have a case here. OK, I was incredibly five minutes late but that's not exactly a reason not to wait for your partner, is it?
Cath is about to shrug her shoulders when Sarah casually informs us "He said he would drive over to that guy and ask about the things he could translate so far.
"What guy?" I need reconfirmation although all my sirens are signaling 'red alert'.
"The guy from that weird mag. Said he had a few more questions."
"Sarah! That GUY is a suspect in a missing case! How the hell could you let him go alone?" what the hell is Nick doing? How can he put himself in such a situation without waiting for backup!
"He's what?" I can see Sarah go pale, almost greenish.
"A fucking SUSPECT. Goddamn!" in lack of any other appropriate target for my fist I slam it into the wall. Causes Greg to peek out of the lab "Where's the address?"
Silent shrugging of shoulders.
"You let him drive off alone and don't even ask for the addy?" I'm about to blow a gasket. Is everybody going lax only because Gris is away for a few days?
"Calm down, Warrick." Cath tries to get back some control and stop us from completely falling apart. I take a deep breath for an angry retort but her eyes kick me back to some kind of controlled mode. I shut my mouth.
"Sara, get the magazine and note the address." Cath instructs with an amazingly calmness. Gil's best student, no doubt. Somebody who's seen enough catastrophes to happen to keep calm until facts are presented. Hearsay cannot unsettle her.
Sara disappears in an instant.
"What the hell is up with you, Warrick?" Cath is shaking my both arms.
"Not now." I shake my head slowly, "really not now."
"It's under box-number." Sara returns, mag in hand.
"Then call the fucking editor!" I'm snapping at her. Sara must be really shaken, for she doesn't even glare at me, simply complies. Guess I'll have to pay for that later. I don't give a damn.
"It's an emergency! We're with the LVPD and –" we hear Sara's upset voice yelling at the phone. We walk in, Greg's there too, we're standing there and listening, trying to figure out what the problem is. "Right. OK. We'll send an officer over to your place." She slams the phone down.
"They're not to give away any address at the phone. We'll need a warrant."
"I'll call Brass." I grab the phone.
"And we need it in Denver, Colorado." Sara adds.
Holy Cow! It completely slipped that not every paper is printed in LV. Oh shit!
......
"Warrick, sit down for god's sake!" Sara glares at me. I'm pacing the room for....I don't know, a while at least. I check my watch for the umpteenth time. 36 minutes since we had called Brass. Why the hell does this take so long? Every five minutes I try to page Nick, call Nick – no answer. I hope that he simply doesn't want to talk to me, the pervert. I pray to god that's the reason . I would gladly have him call me a fag into my face right now. Really, I would welcome it and hug him for it! With every minute that passes the lump in my stomach grows bigger and colder. I wish Gil was here. He's always in control, always knows what to do and how to do the best.
When the phone shrills, we're all frozen. Greg's the fastest and answers the call.
"Sanders. – yes. ……...good………um-hm……gimme a sec…….." Greg grabs a pen and starts to write. We're all crowding in on him. "Thanks a lot. Bye. – hey!" he hasn't really hung up when three different hands reach for the note. Sara has the best grip on it and heads for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Cath's voice is sharp like a razor and the effect is imminent: Sara stops in her tracks.
"Well, what'cha thinking?"
Cath calmly walks over and takes the note from Sara who – strangely – offers no resistance.
"You're going to stay here, call Brass and tell him where to meet us. Greg? Make sure Sara'll stay. Warrick, come with me." She turns, completely ignoring Sara's protests. We're leaving with the address ingrained in our minds. We wouldn't have needed the written copy.
Sara is cursing and struggling but Greg is stronger – bless the male physical supreriority! He'll make sure she's going to stay in the lab. Cath is driving. Breaking every possible speed-limit. By the time we arrive Nick is missing for over an hour.
The house looks ever so normal! And empty. At least there is not a single light on. Sirens approach and soon two patrol-cars with flashing lights stop left and right of our SUV. The officers approach the door, knock, call, ring the bell.
No answer.
They demand the door to be opened.
Still nothing
Brass gives a go to break up the door and the officers storm the house. We're too tense to speak as we wait.
"Nobody in there." An officer walks out to inform us of their findings. By now the neighbors are standing in their doorways and windows, staring. "I'll go ask them if Nick's car was here earlier." Cath is already moving away while I put on my gloves and enter the house.
Looking around there's only one word that describes it: sterile. Tiled floors, no carpet anywhere, the couch covered with one of those hideous clear-pvc-covers. I always called them couch-prophylactics. Could never understand how people would want to sit on such a thing…..
Nothing. The bed is freshly made with new sheets, no used laundry, the freezer full with microwave-food. The attic of the one-story-house is empty too. In the cellar we find: noting until I turn around hastily and bump hard into an officer. The guy stumbles backwards and tries to steady himself by grabbing a shelf. But it sways and falls. Both of us manage to jump aside and evade the avalanche of canned food that tumbles down with a hell of a noise.
And then we freeze.
We stare.
We blink.
The officer makes it out, I'm too slow, throwing up where I stand.