Brave New World

*1*
I had just woken up from a dreamless sleep, or maybe from a dream I had forgotten, but that tends to happen after a night of drinking. I didn’t dare open my eyes just yet since the light that hit my lids was already drilling through my skin. The Los Angeles sun tried to bore through and penetrate into my skull where it felt as if some bruiser had already taken a few good swings. Mornings always knew how to kick my a*s, but mornings have it out for those who have a good rapport with Jack and Belvedere.
“Nerf this,” Beatrice said.
The girl was still in my apartment. She was sitting up in my bed, watching her favorite streamer again. Some Korean girl that piloted those mechs that fended off those building-sized omnics that came out of the oceans. God, that sounds crazy just saying it.
“She’s so cute,” she said with a voice that barely contained a squeal.
The jerk was in my head wasn’t letting up, and his buddy the sun was cutting through and threatened to tag team my head. My eyes were watery and the tighter I tried to shut them, the more the waterworks flowed.
I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy last night, but I just wish I could get away with mornings like I use too.
There was a giggle again. I wish I could get away with mornings like Bee here. That's the benefit of being eight years younger than me. I suppose that would make her twenty-four, but I try not to know too much since this wasn’t anything serious. I already got my fill of knowing too much at work.
I opened my eyes after a lengthy moment of trying to coax myself into thinking it was all going to be alright. It wasn’t. I hated myself for the lie.
But at least I got to see something that eased the pain in that moment. Bee was a slim girl with a tight, sexy body, short blonde pixie cut, and all legs.
She had the sort of figure that guided the eye, and if you started from the bottom you ended up at those large green eyes.
She had the looks of a starlet, and she always said that she would make to the screen one day. A lot of girls like her come to this city hoping to make it to the screen one day, but not a lot get to make it up there without doing certain people a few favors. She was too busy giving favors to a disgraced cop.
She hadn’t even noticed that I was awake or that I had shifted in bed. Those large green eyes were glued to the screen of her tablet and she had wireless earpieces stuck deep in her head.
I coughed to grab her attention, but it didn’t work. I needed to get ready for work since I was already up, and lately, Bee had been sticking around in my apartment. This wasn't supposed to be anything serious.
I reached up and grabbed at one of those earpieces and yanked it out. It must have given her a fright because her head shot at me and there was a fire in those green eyes. I didn’t care, though. As far as I was concerned, she was the reason I woke up early.
“Hey, I’d like to ask you something,” I said.
“I know what you’re going to say, and yes I have to watch this right now. D.Va is having a special live charity stream where all her donations are going toward helping Brazil. And she’s hosting with Lucio!”
“Actually, I was going to ask why you were still in my apartment.”
She didn’t like that. Bee rolled her eyes and shook her head as she placed that earpiece back and continued to watch her little show. Her a*s was planted into that mattress and she didn’t look like she had any intention of getting up or getting dressed. But I didn’t mind.
I got upwith a sigh and a shiver went up to my spine asmy feet touched the cold, hardwood floor. The bruiser took a swing and I felt it thump on my right temple. I sat there for a second as I rubbed my temple and my fingers felt the grains of the shaved side.
“Hal, dim the windows would you,” I asked.
“As you wish, Sir,” Hal said. Hal was a home artificial intelligence I bought along with the apartment when I moved in with a deep bass for a voice and who I named after one of those classic films. It was funny how when I told him to do something he’d be unable to do. I’m sure he’d like the joke if he had a funny bone programmed into him.
He did as he asked and the sun was held off for a brief moment, “Anything else I can do for you, Sir?”
“Turn on the television, turn on my radio, and get a cup of coffee on the brew.”
“Coffee is already on the brew, Sir. I took the liberty of preparing a cup when I heard your voice a little bit ago.”
“Hal, can you iron my shirt?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”
I chuckled to myself and looked around at no one in the room, Bee didn’t hear it and even if she did she wouldn’t understand the joke.
“There he is! The Murderer!” The television had flipped on and it happened to be on one of those old black and white films. It was Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein and it was close to the end where the angry mob had cornered the monster in the windmill. I sat there in bed and watched as the angry villagers burnt down the windmill just after Adam had thrown his creator off the side.
A sudden touch to my back jolted me awake from the silver screen daydream as a cold hand palmed by back. I took a sharp breath and looked behind to see Beatrice looking at my skin with fright. I knew what she was looking at. Why did she care? D****t, this isn't supposed to be anything serious.
“You scratched me good last night,” I said. I gave her a chuckle but I didn’t turn around to look at those big green eyes.
“What happened,” she asked. A new bruise I had gotten when some creep hit me from behind with a baseball bat. It was the only hit he got in before I caved his face in with my baton.
“Just an on the job accident.”
I could feel another question coming, but I didn’t have time to answer another question. I hated not being the one asking the questions.
“Wha…”
“Hey, I have to get going pretty soon, but why don’t you stick around until that show of yours is over. Remember to tell Hal to lock up when you leave.”
I stood up from the bed before Beatrice had a chance to finish her thought. Her hand retracted back into her lap as if she was a little child who had just been scolded.
She was a child compared to me. This wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. Those large green eyes said they were sorry for asking, but I didn’t give her any relief in the moment that she wasn’t at fault for caring. Why was I angry?
My feet rushed off into the bathroom to quicken the pain of the cool floor against my bare flesh, and I locked the door behind me to make sure the girl didn’t follow me. I hated not being the one asking the questions.

*2*




*2*

Shirt ironed and pressed, slacks creased, oxfords shined, and hair slicked back just above the part. There was something about the morning routine that was calming. Felt almost like I was still a real cop when I took pride in my appearance, and I like to believe I sell more than just my time as some dick who’s sent around and sleuths for the highest bidder. Appearances matter and nowhere is that more true than this city.
I sell the private detective experience and people who hire me get what they see in those movies or any pulp they happen to read. The button-up and tie are uniform. On my office hours, a client will never see me in anything less than what you’d expect to see.
I took the elevator just outside my apartment and went down a few floors until I was on the floor with my office. There were a lot of buildings like that downtown and some are even like their own self-contained communities, but I don’t like it much because life happens beyond just these walls. The idea brings up bad memories, so for now let’s just say it makes rent cheaper.
The elevator doors slid open and I saw there were already two just outside my office door. They eyed the fogged glass with my agency’s information plastered over in bold black font that read, “Derek Milligan Private Investigator.” It was simple and classy and appearances matter in this city.
It was a woman, long blonde hair that was disheveled and a look that said that I even got more sleep than her, and an omnic who had one of those old three-prong plugins for a face. I wonder if I could plug my dad’s coffee machine into him. Wait, would that be like sex for an omnic? I’m not so sure my dad is ready to have his little coffee machine grow up.
“Looks like you caught me before I could make it,” I said. I threw in a light chuckle as I squeezed by the two to unlock the door with my card. I didn’t have to squeeze by the two but I wanted to get a better look at the woman’s face when I threw her my fake smile.
She was shaken and her eyes were puffed and so bloodshot you could hardly see the brown of her iris. Her large black sweatshirt there to hide the wet stains from those who didn’t look too close, and she hugged her body tight while she looked back at me with those red eyes with no return smile. This woman was up all night crying and she made a trip to my office as early as possible. Missing kid, I guarantee it.
When the door’s lock unhatched I twisted the knob and swung open the door as I took a few steps inside and stopped to greet the two with an arm that directed them to my desk, “Take a seat and I’ll get cup of coffee.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. Her voice was weak and it came out as a whisper as if she was afraid to speak. The Omnic wrapped an arm around the woman and brought her in close to his chest.
I wanted for them to sit before I began to move about my office to get things ready to speak with them. I took my time doing my little chores as if I was putting on a show, and the tension these two walked in with set off every move I made as if were important and professional. A small trick I picked up on as a cop. There was a buzz in my pocket.
When the brew was done I turned on my radio to a soft jazz station and turned it down real low.
“How do you take your coffee,” I asked.
“Cream and sugar,” she said.
“How about you, buddy? Anything I can get you?”
“No,” the omnic said.
I made it the way she asked and picked up a small file with all the papers needed to conduct business. Smooth ambient sound, mellow aroma, and the sip of a warm drink would help calm the woman’s nerves and hopefully the old police trick had an effect.
I handed her the coffee and she took it with both hands and held it close to her chest as she began to stare into the drink before she finally had a sip. She looked like she had calmed down just a tiny bit.
“So, who am I looking for,” I asked. That was an edgy gamble I just took just coming out and going with the theory I had developed in my head. Whenever you do that you’ll get one of two responses. They’ll either look at you like your the great Sherlock Holmes or like you’re the biggest jackass this side of the pacific ocean. I’ve been the jackass more times than I’d like to admit.
“My daughter,” the woman exclaimed. She nearly spilled her coffee when she looked at me with those poor red eyes. Glad to see I was Sherlock this time around.
“Jennifer, please let me do the talking,” The omnic chimed in. He gripped one of her hands and pulled it in close and she gave him a faint smile as she went back to her coffee and stared. I suppose I should cancel that blind date I had in mind.
“Our daughter has gone missing for two days now, and we’ve been unable to contact her on phone.” The omnic squeezed Jennifer’s hand a bit tighter as the woman sucked in air and began to whimper in her chair. Tears streamed down her face and splashed into her coffee, and her body shivered as she tried her best to contain herself.
I set off to begin writing a case file as I opened up the small packet from earlier, “And did you contact the police about this?”
“Of course we did! A day after we were unable to get ahold of her we called the police. Do you take us for idiots?”
“No sir, I’m just asking questions right now. How old is your daughter?”
“Sixteen. And she’s five foot six inches tall with blonde hair and brown eyes like her mother.”
I wrote down the details in my file as I took my time doing so to give myself that professional vibe again, “Do you have a picture of your daughter?”
“Of course,” The omnic said. He reached into a pocket on a faded pair of skinny jeans that he wore. It went well with the salmon polo he was wearing. He handed me the picture of their daughter that looked newly printed. The girl looked a lot like her mother but some other something else about the girl seemed familiar. I stuffed the picture into the packet.
“When and where was your daughter last seen?”
“Two days ago around the time her high school excused the students. She was walking home with friends until she veered off and…” Wasn’t seen again, I added in my head.
“Veered off?”
“Her friends’ said that she said there was someone she needed to talk to and walked off in a different direction without them.”
“Does your daughter have any sort of relationships like a boyfriend or girlfriend?”
“No, I mean we’re sure she doesn’t. She hasn’t mentioned anything about that to us.”
“Do you ever check her phone?”
“No, um, we respect her privacy too much to do anything like that.”
I raised a brow at the thought and bite down on my lip to prevent myself from saying something I’d regret. I’m sure a parent can disrespect their child’s personal life just enough to be concerned about them. This was usually typical for step-parents.
“Can I ask about your daughter’s real father,” I asked. S**t. An alarm went off in my head right after I asked that question and knew I asked it the wrong way.
“Howard is Summer’s real father,” the woman shouted. She gave me the nastiest look I’d had ever seen women give me. No, that was a lie. There were plenty of women who had given me that look, but it seemed a little out of place outside a bar or my bedroom.
“I didn’t mean it like that, ma’am.”
“I’m so sick of hearing that Howard isn’t a real husband or a real father. Why, just because some jackasses like you can’t accept that omnics can feel and love…”
“Jennifer, please he didn’t…,” The omnic said. He tried to get her to calm down but she wasn’t having it.
“No, I’m tired of hearing about how I should have stuck around with James. What’s wrong with Howard, huh? He can’t care for my daughter?”
“I didn’t…”
“He can’t love me because he’s not flesh and blood like us?”
I just sat there and knew saying anything more would just get me deeper in trouble with this woman. But perhaps the slip of tongue on my part helped reveal a lot more about this case than I could have asked for. I let the woman rant a little more until her anger turned and she began to cry again and fell back into the chair with her head tucked into her lap. Muffled wails filled the air of my office and replaced the tension with harrowing depression.
The noise cut deep and there was a twinge in my heart.
I sighed, looked toward the omnic and nodded my head.
“I’m sorry she didn’t mean those things about you,” Howard said.
I shook my head at Howard and gave him a wave of the hand, “It’s alright. I understand how traumatic this must be for you two. But what can you tell me about James?”
“James is Summer’s biological father,” Howard said. “The two are rather close really and some of James’ views on my kind have made their mark on Summer. The guy isn’t a good father but for some reason, Summer thinks the world of him.”
“Have either of you been in contact with him since Summer’s disappearance?”
“Yes, we’ve told him everything and the police have also been looking into him as well, but he’s been working with us both to help find Summer. Maybe he’s taking this chance to be better?”
“Maybe.” I didn’t want to say anything more about this until I had a talk with James myself.
Jennifer continued to cry in her lap but by now her wailing had calmed down and it had become more silent weeping. You could see her body shake and her the occasional whimper that made me blink each time.
I pushed over some forms toward Howard, “I need you to fill these papers out with any information that will help me find your daughter. Her number, friends’ numbers, addresses that you think are important and addresses you think aren’t important. Anything that pops into that head I need you to write down.”
Howard rubbed Jennifer’s back as he gave me a nod and began to work on the forms with a silent determination. It didn’t take much time at all, but I suppose that’s the benefit of having a machine brain. He offered me the forms and we discussed my hourly rates and any expenses related to their case. I felt for the woman, pitied her, but I don’t work cheap.
It would be another ten minutes before the two finally left and finally took my phone out my pocket to see who had messaged me.
“Coffee at the usual spot,” It read from Alexandra.
“Sure,” I replied.

*3*

I had a few more people come in after Summer’s parents had left, but they were the usual low-key clientele that wanted me to run background checks or ask if I could spy on their spouses. If there is one thing that makes me feel like I’m not a real cop anymore it’s these damn cheaters cases, but you take them because they happen to be the best source of income for a private dick, especially in a city as fake as this one.
A camera with a nine-hundred-dollar price tag, not including the lenses, and it seems my computer only has pictures of nearly a thousand different Los Angeles lovers and their romantic encounters. A porn-star would blush going through my files.
I had about enough for the morning, I was excited to have a missing child case on my plate, and I needed that coffee with a good friend before I punched some random John who came to threaten me to stay out of his business again.
I locked up my office and put up a small sign that said I went out for lunch, and if they wanted a sleuth they need to shoot me an email on the address provided.
From the parking garage, I got on my BMW K2600r, a black little number modeled after the classic motorcycles they produced about sixty years ago. The major difference was this hovered a good foot in the air compared to some classic wheels. I’d sell my soul for some classic wheels but only the rich could afford the rubber, or ironically the poor at the cost of having them attached to lemons and rust-buckets.
Traffic was as awful as it always was around noon, but it wasn’t like it mattered much to me; as I might have broken a few traffic laws by using the small frame of my bike to squeeze past certain sections of gridlock. I got the occasional finger, a few honks, and some prick who thought he could stop me by opening his door. The only issue with his plan was that he did it too early and I just slipped past him from a different row.
“F**k you,” he yelled.
I responded by slowing down my bike to a halt and made a rather suggestive gesture with my left index finger and my right index finger and thumb shaped into a ring. His face scrunched up like a pug and I swear he even let out a small growl like one, but I didn’t stick around long enough to really ponder the curious dogish face of this man.
“It’s about time you made it,” Alexandra said. She watched as I pulled by bike right up to her own car in the parking lot of the coffee shop. Not one of those chain coffee shops, Alexandra and I were too good for one of those, It was more of those specialty local places that made art with the foam. This one called the Grey Owl.
“Sorry, I had to take care of some things before I could leave the office,” I said. I climbed down off my bike and removed my helmet, ran a hand through my hair to slick it back just in case, and gave the small girl a smile.
She returned a familiar smile back at me, a real smile that included her eyes, a bright porcelain beam that said how happy she was to see me. The only smile I trusted including my own.
“It’s good to see you, Derek,” She said. Alexandra lunged at me with a hug and gripped me tight. I gave a smile breathy laugh and hugged her back.
“It’s good to see you too,” I said. It was good to see her. I missed working with her.
We walked side by side as we headed into the Grey Owl together.
“How have you been,” She asked. “Still seeing that girl?”
“Oh, Beatrice? Um, yeah I suppose so,” I said. “It’s nothing serious really it’s more like…”
“Friends with benefits.”
“Well, I was going to say a mutually agreed upon meeting in which prolonged stress relieving sessions take place.”
“Ah, booty calls,” She said with smart-a*s grin. The same smart-a*s grin that I figured I had a patent on.
“You said it not me, detective,” I said. I opened the door to the shop and we were welcomed by a small chime and an Omnic behind the counter who gave threw us the peace sign.
“Who do you think chimed the door or the omnic?”
Alexandra elbowed me in the gut and told me to hush as we got in the small line in front of the counter. It caught me by surprise and let out a small bit of air in a cough.
“So how are you and Karissa doing,” I asked.
“Happily married and with no need to beg for favors like a small dog,” she said. She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips in a cocked grin as she looked on straight ahead at the chalkboard of drinks.
“Damn, you going to keep busting my balls?”
“Nah, I’m sure Beatrice does that enough for you.”
I threw my head back in a dramatic arc and my arms flipped in the air in defeat as I gave an annoyed chuckle and looked down at Alexandra. I forgot to pencil my roast from a tiny red-headed lesbian into my day-planner.
Alexandra looked back at me and the two of us laughed in line until we heard a fabricated cough from the Omnic behind the counter.
“What can I get you, dudes,” it asked. It had the voice of a surfer and some mild beach colors painted on some of his metal finish. How does an Omnic get sun-baked and water logged enough to get the lazy slow trail in his voice like a surfer?
We made our orders and watched as Robo-surfer or Hipstertron, I wasn’t sure which to call him, made our drinks and included his own bit of foam art into the lattes. Alexandra got a leaf in her cup and I got a heart. I would have preferred the leaf. I took a toothpick from the counter as we walked away and stirred it into a disfigured lump.
“Aw you ruined it,” Alexandra said.
“Huh?”
“The heart he made you. You ruined it.”
I looked back down at my cup and nodded my head at the broken foam heart, “So I did. I must not have been thinking.”
Alexandra sat down at one of the lounge chairs and I sat down across from her. A table between the two of us with a small chess board with the pieces knocked around and a few missing.
“So have any exciting cases,” she asked. I was busy looking at the white knight piece when she asked me that question. It was on its side and it looked like it had been cracked, while the black rook stood triumphantly over it.
“Yeah actually I do,” I said. I took the wallet picture of Summer out of my leather jacket’s front pocket and handed it over. “Girl’s parents hired me to help look for her. She’s been missing for a few days.”
Alexandra’s smile faded as she looked at the picture and I told her about the girl on it. She bared her teeth as she took in a sharp breath and sighed and handed the picture back to me.
“You have any leads?”
“Just one. She comes from a broken family and she’s not all too happy with her mom marrying an Omnic, and she thinks fondly of her anti-omnic father so I’m going to have a talk with him to see what he might know. But you seem to know something too. Care to share?”
Alexandra nodded her head once she took a quick sip of her coffee, “I’m just afraid this might be connected to something I’ve heard around the station.”
“What have you heard,” I asked. I put my cup down next to the chessboard and forgot it.
“We’ve had more missing person cases filed recently than what we usually get in a year. We haven’t said anything to the public because we don’t want to start a panic, and Karissa has been running the numbers and human trafficking has increased ten percent in the past few years in Los Angeles alone,” She whispered. She leaned over the table to tell me this and I leaned in to hear her as best I could. There weren't many people around but she didn’t want to risk anyone but me hearing it.
“You think this girl might be,” I said. I hesitated to finish my question because saying it would have turned my stomach.
“Honestly,” she said. “You should seriously consider it.”
I flopped backward into my seat and nodded my head as I gave this case some more thought. If the girl had been the victim of an abduction than that would be hard to explain to the parents. And I honestly didn’t want to see that woman cry anymore.
We sat there in the coffee shop for a bit more while Alexandra just stared at me while she drank her coffee and I got lost in thought about how I should approach things. I had my own street contacts that could sell me information since I wasn’t a cop anymore, and there was always the other way I had been going about things lately.
Alexandra must have seen something that I hadn’t noticed because she soon reached over and touched my knee. When I had woken up from my dark daydreams I saw that my fingers had gripped the leather of the armrests so tight my knuckles had turned white.
“Your knee was all over the place,” She said. She withdrew her hand and placed her own empty mug on the table. “It never gets easy, huh?”
“I’ve figured out how to cope,” I said.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“No,” I said. Yes was what I wanted to say. And she must have seen that I didn’t mean to say no.
“I know how passionate you get about these sorts of things. And it’s been awhile since your incident.”
“Yeah, I suppose. You hear about that vigilante that’s been on the news,” I said. My knee began to bounce again and my eyes returned to the disheveled chessboard as I crossed my arms and bite my bottom lip. I couldn’t stand lying to Alexandra. I wanted to confess that I still felt broken, that I was feeling so angry all the time, and that the incident was still an issue.
“I’ve investigated a few of the crime scenes they’ve left behind,” She said. Alexandra raised a brow and leaned her head forward as she stared at me. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you think that maybe what they’re doing is the right thing?”
“No,” She answered. It came out so quick from her mouth that it took me by surprise and I felt as if I had been hit by a truck. “Whoever this person is, they’re leaving a lot of dead bodies wherever they go. And it’s only going to make things a whole lot worse for themselves.”
“They haven’t touched anyone innocent have they?”
“No, but it's not for people to play vigilante like that. The system may not be perfect Derek, but these self-proclaimed heroes that have been running around lately are only getting in the way of law enforcement. And it’s only a matter of time before they or others around them get hurt.”
“But what about these a******s who fly under the radar, huh? Are we supposed to do nothing while they steal away little kids and we just sit around with our thumbs in our asses?” I raised my voice and acted like what she just said had offended me. She had a point so why was I defending myself?
“This is more than just the missing child case isn’t it, Derek.”
I looked up at her and tried to nod my head. I tried to get out the words, “I’m that vigilante. I’ve been killing pimps and drug dealers and gangsters.” But the more I tried to say it the quieter I had become until I just stared at Alexandra with wide eyes and a whimper the only confirmation to her question.
“It’s been awhile since you shot that man a while back.” She was ready to talk about the incident that started it all. I wasn’t.
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.
“Are you sure because…”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”
I shouted loud, my breathing quickened, and my body rattled as my fingers dug deep into the leather of the lounge chair. She asked too many questions and I hated not being the one asking the questions. And it was as if someone else had taken over like they had all those years ago. Like they had when I was taken away and needed to survive.
I closed my eyes and took a few steady breaths to calm myself down. I knew the entire coffee shop had stopped dead in its tracks to watch the side show. It was quiet and even the sound of the espresso machine stopped hissing. When I had opened my eyes again sure enough people are staring and trying to avoid eye contact with me.
“I think my lunch break is over,” Alexandra said.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. She had stood up and grabbed her things before I even finished saying the words.
“You’re okay,” She said. She shook her head but I couldn’t bring myself to peel my eyes away from the chessboard to look up at her.
“No, I don’t think I am.”
“I’ll text you later, Derek. If you need to talk you know Karissa and I will always listen. Love you, Derek.”
“Love you too.”
“Come here.” She stood just a few inches from me and held her arms open. And that was when I was able to peel away from my seat and that damn black rook. I grabbed her tight as I stood up.
“Please get yourself some help,” She whispered.
We let go and she walked away, and by that time the coffee shop and resumed it’s every day like once the onlookers saw that the little soap-opera had ended.
I picked up my mug of coffee and looked at the broken foam heart that had nearly dissolved away and I took a sip. I shouldn’t have done that because my coffee had gone cold and the espresso had spoiled. I spit the drink back out and sighed.
F**k, I could really use a cigarette right about now.

*4*

I had talked with one of Summer’s friends for forty minutes but it felt more like hours as each new statement began with a sniffle or sob. I feel for the girl, her best friend had gone missing, but I had a job to do and she didn’t make this easy on me.
Every new remark, little or expanded, started with a broken breath and little mouth bubbles of snot and tears that barely escaped the cage in the girl’s mouth.
“I should have been with her,” Sofia said. “She wouldn’t have gone missing if I were with her.”
“No darling,” Missus Lopez said. “Don’t say that, it isn’t your fault.”
Mother and daughter held each other tight as each consoled the other in their grieves. Red faces and salty cheeks that reflected with a fluorescent shimmer. And hardly a coherent word between the two.
I sat back in the black leather lounge chair they offered to me earlier when I showed up and I almost wish I hadn’t now. I picked at the small flakes of dried black animal flesh that rose up from the chair like little suicidal cultists who had longed to be plucked up by their huge alien god. My throat itched and my foot was fidgety, and I thought when the last time I had a good cigarette. Not one of that cheap plastic s**t they try to push as healthy alternatives.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I needed to break up the water works for a moment so I could get back to work. “I understand how hard this is for you Sofia, but I need to know if you might have heard where Summer was heading. Did she happen to say anything about a boyfriend, another friend of yours, or perhaps something about her biological father?”
“I don’t know,” she said. And I was at my wit's end.
“Missus Lopez, I’m going to step out for a little bit and let her calm down before I ask any more questions,” I said. I just needed an excuse to go outside and smoke before I clawed my own eyes out. I had been sitting in this chair for a long time and I couldn’t even get two questions out without this girl breaking down.
“I think that will be for the best, Detective. I’ll let you know if she says anything.”
The mother and daughter began their little bit once more. This time with a bit more cradling and rocking involved, but I was up and headed for the front door before I could be asked to fetch something.
“I’ll be just outside here,” I said. A broken-voiced wail echoed down the hall that stuttered with a chatter.
“Alright, Detective.”
I twisted on the door knob and was careful to open the door as silent and quick as I could muster, and I applied the same effort when I closed the door behind me and took in a breath of fresh air. I swear the room in there had gotten humid.
The Lopez’s home was a decent sized suburban home in east Los Angeles. San Gabriel, I believe they called the neighborhood although a few of the homes looked anything but holy. But the rustic little Spanish mission style of the home of the Lopez residence was a gem among many of the other homes, and if they could afford to live in private home like this than Mister Lopez must do well for himself.
I took the time I had been given by the mother to calm my nerves, and since I was still on the clock I might have a smoke complaints of Summer’s parents. I reached into my front shirt pocket and pulled out this black piece of plastic and switched it on with a simple twist to the butt. It wasn’t a real cigarette, not like I wanted, Beatrice wouldn’t let me buy real cigarettes.
I stuck the cheap party favor into my mouth and took a long drag. The end lit up in a bright blue glow and peppermint filled my mouth and cooled the insides of my cheeks, and I closed my eyes as the vapor filled my lungs and I held my breath to just enjoy it. Still wasn’t the same as a real cigarette. I exhaled from my nose and a small cloud formed around my head.
I went on like that for a good ten minutes as I just stood there in front of the Lopez’s home and smoked my fake cigarette while I took in the sights of the neighborhood. Kids ran around, birds sang, the palm tree leaves rocked back and forth, and it all reminded me how much I missed not being here. Things were calm here and I'm just not used to calm in the middle of the city.
My thigh vibrated as my phone went off in my pocket and I stuck my e-cig in the corner of my mouth and let it hang there. It was Miguel so I let it ring a few times as I got myself comfortable for a conversation and the phone switched hands more than once as I decided if I wanted to smoke with the left or the right. The phone continued to buzz.
“D****t, Hermano,” Miguel said. “You always take your time answering your phone?”
“Only when it’s you, Miguel,” I said. That was a lie about the only time I was prompt with my phone was with clients or when Beatrice texted me that she was bored. The girl was fun when she was bored.
“A*****e. Hey are you going to stop by tonight? You’ve skipped out twice now for some coño and I think the streets miss you.” I could hear the smile that Miguel had over the other line, his chuckle was quick but sharp and punctuated by the smack of his lips.
“Yeah, I’ll head over tonight. I have this missing kid case and I spoke with an old friend, she says it might be connected to some recent human trafficking trend that's popped up. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you, Miguel?”
“Sure I do,” He said.
“Wait, you knew something and you didn’t tell me anything? What the f**k, Miguel!”
“Puta, you’ve been busy f*****g with everyone’s drugs and tearing a new a*****e into a few small Los Muertos Hijos de puta. Besides that’s what I wanted to talk to you about lately.”
“Alright, so what do you know?”
“Hermano, you know I don’t like discussing this s**t on the phone. Meet me at my warehouse tonight and we’ll talk more. You gonna be excited too, Hermano, I got a surprise for you.”
“Alright, well thanks, Miguel. I’ll see you tonight.”
“See if you can find that girl, Hermano.”
A click and Miguel hung up the phone and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. When I put my phone back into my pocket Missus Lopez stuck her torso out of the front door and gave me an apologetic look.
“Mister Milligan, I’m sorry for wasting your time but could you perhaps come at a later time? Sofia just isn’t feeling well enough to talk about her friend.”
“Sure, she didn’t happen to say anything to you while you were taking care of her, did she?”
Missus Lopez nodded her head. Her brow furrowed and a deep crease etched itself into her forehead and her head tilted to the side as if the information she had would come and tumble out of her ear.
“She said something about her Summer’s father, but I wasn’t sure if she meant James or that omnic her mother has been seeing.”
“Seeing is putting it lightly since they happened to be married.”
Missus Lopez raised her brows with a small chuckle, “Until the warranty expires, right?”
As horrible as that was I had to admit to myself that the woman came up with that response so quick that it was rather clever, “Right, well, thank you for your time, Missus Lopez. I’ll go check in with this James and see if he knows anything about his daughter.”
“Good luck, Detective, I hope you find Summer.”
I took one last drag of my e-cigarette and said my goodbyes to the family woman with words laced with menthol clouds of vapor. I hopped on my hoverbike and shot off like a bullet out of the driveway. A real bat out of hell was how my mother would have said it. I couldn’t get out of this pleasant scenic suburb fast enough.
I had my phone feed my turn by turn directions into my helmet as I made my way through the streets toward James’ home and it was only a fifteen-minute drive from where I had left. But those fifteen minutes of driving meant the world of difference as I stepped out of some pleasant Hispanic rendition of Stepford Wives and into the sort of neighborhood that was always the subject of late night television charities.
James’ home was this blue little shack of a place with only a screen door, but really to say it was blue would be too kind. It was more of vomit brown and deep rust with chips of a faded blue that might have looked nice sixty years ago.
I was careful to step over the slabs of broken concrete that jettisoned out from the earth and began to knock on the solid wood frame of the screen.
“James Russo,” I said. “James are you here? I need to talk to you about your missing daughter. Your ex-wife hired me and I need to ask you a few questions!”
“Alright, f**k, I’m coming just hold on.”
It didn’t take long before James was at the screen door and both our eyes went wide when we saw each other. James, the balding b*****d, those twigs he called arms were covered in pockmarks and they twitched when they saw me. And I remember where I had heard his name, Hell, I remember when we shared the same seat on that damn prison bus.