PART THREE a - Therapy

  We got up. Right came home for breakfast, she stayed with Lida and her crew. She asked me how things were going, and I knew what she meant. I told her the truth, that things were going really well. She seemed genuine about being happy for her friend, too. Lightning was more of herself for breakfast. Even better, actually. Right didn't razz her like normal, and she didn't call her the "egg bitch" either. Lightning had her over easy on toast, like I did. Wiz asked Right if she wanted an omelet. She did, it made her happy.

  My boyfriend and me got a few minutes of my precious fetch game in. Its one of my favorite things. He dressed me, and Lightning came in and asked if the offer to have her get dressed was still open. So he did, and she marveled at being pampered, like I got. She got her spikes kissed like mine, too. We both got our legs over the shoulders morning kissing in, then went down to work out.

  Light wanted ran to death, and she got it. She worked out harder and longer than ever this summer yet. We had to drag her away from a practice ball we have. Its a spike you drive in, like one of those screw in dog things, to secure a dog in a yard. There's a long, strong bungee cord. She kicks it, and it returns. We literally had to drag her away, she was going to kill herself and wouldn't quit. I suddenly realized what in the hell she had done to herself over those four years alone. At Teddy Ball’s insistence, she must have worked herself to death, and all but colpsed. Took a little break talking to Tedward? And did it again, until she colpsed again. There had been no one there to stop her. She had described working out off and on all day, then into the night. Sometimes, all night.

  Ritual. Teddy Ball had given her a new religion. No, Wiz taught me its not a religion, its philosophy. Because she had been to hell. But whatever you called it… this was the services. I did the Catholic church thing. Sit, stand, kneel… sit, stand, kneel… the guy in the robes talks about… whatever. Then you all repeat the magic mantras. Her services were more straightforward. You py games, and work yourself until you drop. You get up after a short break, and you do it some more, until you drop again. When you can’t get up anymore? Services end. You sit, and Teddy preaches and counsels.

  She really looked forward to getting him to undress her, watching me get the treatment. Right went and hung out with Lida's crew after a quick shower, they were watching movies. They have a bigger collection of DVDs than we have. They don't have Wizard of Oz, which is probably an even bigger draw for Right than the rger selection, to tell the truth. Light smiled and followed us into the shower. She loves getting her back scratched with the big brush. She did it back to him, too. When it came time for his quick "guy shower" after pampering both of us, she gave him some back. She soaped him up, and rubbed it some, then rinsed him off.

  We both got our tub pampering, and we all talked. I miss sitting with him in the tub, but we can do that ourselves in the evening if we want to. The rubdown on the bed and gabbing with my little sister, while getting massaged and the hot liniment oil? Well, that's simply heaven. Lightning didn't fall asleep this time, and we all got to talking.

  I guess the only fly in the ointment? Little Miss Moody was getting to be gone longer than I liked to admit. I got no answer calling her, nothing texted back. It had been a while since she had called or texted, too. I asked him what we should do, and he just shrugged.

  "She's done this before, right? Her nickname isn't Little Miss Moody for nothing."

  "She's never been gone this long before, I don't think. Even Right said something about it."

  "Call her parents. Maybe she went home."

  "Its just her mom. From everything I gather? Mom is half a barfly. She got her kid on schorship? Me time."

  "Call her. See."

  "I did. She hasn't heard from her."

  "Her mom concerned?"

  "Oh, she'll turn up. She does that, from time to time…"

  "Yeah. Another mom of the year. They're all over."

  "So? What do we do."

  Light added in.

  "Yeah. Mister Military Policeman, investigator dude. What's next. We have a missing center. Me and Right? We need our center. And yeah, I admit she's not always that much fun to have around, but… kinda missing her. A little. She can be an asshole, but… she's our asshole."

  He sighed.

  "She's a missing person. We have to go to the police station."

  I got glib.

  "And, I just assume they'll drop everything, and move heaven and earth, looking for her."

  "They have to do something. She's been gone longer than 72 hours. That? Is… officially missing. Far as police are concerned. That, is in our favor. What's not in our favor? She's over 18. Its not illegal, for a person to decide to disappear."

  "What do they do?"

  "Oh. Talk to us. Get her photo. Description. Ask about her, try to get some idea where she might go. They'll put her on a list. Probably issue a BOLO, Be On the Look Out for her. Make up a missing person sheet and email it around to other stations. Call hospitals and run her, see if she got picked up for something. Pretty standard. She's over 18, not like they're gonna put her on billboards and milk cartons or anything."

  "Can… you talk cop to them? Get a little more."

  "I… can try. I'll wear my Military Police uniform down to the station. And yeah, I can talk shop with cops. I'm used to the MP's."

  Lightning was excited to see him in his uniform. Hell, I enjoyed it too. I drove us down to the police station. It went pretty much like he said. The guy asked about his uniform, he said he "ran" with the MP's on a big airbase. Guy shook his head. The uniform probably stopped him from the standard "college kids do this" talk. My boyfriend admitted, he knows this isn't a huge priority but was there anything he could think of to try to help?

  "Well. Outta respect for you did the job for four years, right?"

  He nodded.

  "Let's talk. Now… she's been gone a while. She didn't go home. You said she can take off once in a blue moon, but this is a new record. Thing I don't like? The phone quit. You said, she'll text or call every other day or so. That's normal for her, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm not trying to scare you, I just don't like that. You know her friends, where she would normally go. And she ain't there. She takes a phone charger with her, right?"

  I said yes. She always does.

  "Girls and their phones. No disrespect, but… girls want that phone charged. Now. Did you guys check her social media? You know, the phone will give her location."

  "I checked that. Her social media stops, when the phone quits calling and texting."

  "And she don't have a car. A drivers license?"

  "Yeah."

  "Would she rent a car? Go do something."

  "That would be a new one for her."

  "She have… credit cards? Mad money?"

  "She didn't just rent a car and drive to the beach, I don't figure. She has some money, but she ain't rich by any stretch."

  "Okay. Here's the standard thing. This has gotten streamlined over the years. I enter her on the website we use. Her information. It will tell me, as it comes back in. Hospital admissions, recent arrests, car wrecks, anything like that. That's standard. That's what I'm supposed to do at this point. Now. Out of respect and all… let's talk about what else we can try."

  "Anything."

  "Look. Most people? Don't want to see a cop, ever. Then? The instant something happens, we should have been there already. Now. Is there anything we can sit and come up with, off the record… about where she would actually go. You were an MP? You know where this is going."

  "Go ahead. Off the record."

  "She like to get drunk? Likes to go get pstered? Wouldn't be the first college kid to like it."

  "She likes to stay out all night, till the party ends, or the bar closes. Yeah."

  "Let me guess. She ain't 21, but she has no trouble going out to all the bars at all hours. Right? I ain't saying it ain't like they all don't do it."

  "That's her."

  "Okay. What's her… love life like. If there was a steady boyfriend, you'd already told me. What's she like. What's her type. And be honest, we're off the record. Am I looking in upscale for her? Or… seedy dives. Dance pces, raves? What."

  "Oh. Honestly? Any bar. But, if she's paying? Eh… the seedy bar would suit her just as well."

  "Okay. What kid of guy would she go for. Normally."

  "Aw. She's got that bad boy shit. Any mouthy asshole brags he's been to county? That's her."

  "She like rich boys? Fshy sports cars?"

  "Usually not. Older cars. Loud exhaust."

  "She's not the only one. I'll run her picture past the probation officers. Sounds like her type?"

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  "She could of got picked up with one of those sweethearts."

  He paused then soldiered on.

  "Now. Off the record. Drug use. If she likes cocaine? There's pces to look. Heroin…"

  I looked at him.

  "She's a sports star on schorship. If someone gave her a line? She'd hide it from me. No heroin, no meth. No pain pills."

  "Let me guess. College kid. Little hand rolled cigarette up her alley?"

  I nodded.

  "Off the record. Yeah."

  "Okay. She likes mouthy bums, with a record. Loud boys, loud older cars. She likes a guy to give her a line, has a baggie on him. The probation officers might have the best chance of getting a look at her. How am I doing here."

  "About it."

  "Okay. Her personality. What kinds of people she runs with, other than boys."

  "Her nickname? One of them, is Little Miss Moody. She's a frown-er. Outside of sports? Her crowd… you know the kids that… paint their hair a weird color? Wear the funny clothes. She's an art major. That crowd."

  "Oh. Smoke a joint, they talk about how creative, and different they are. Frowns a lot, nobody gets me. Like that?"

  "Yeah. That's my girl."

  "Okay. Starving artist types? Hang out with other artsy kids. Cheap beer, maybe the museum… look at art galleries."

  "That… could be."

  "Around here? I don't know where I would look for that. And I'm a cop. Now. Trying to go the extra mile here. He knows this, I ain't being rude. This just isn't a big priority. There's no… problem you're giving me. No crazy ex, threatening to kill her. No crime scene. She just left and quit calling after so many days. College kids drop out and disappear all the time. We're a small department, we don't have a dedicated missing persons unit."

  He answered him back.

  "No. I know that's how it is."

  "You… guys want to try to look for her yourself? Maybe I can give you some ideas."

  "We could try. Sure."

  "All right. Frown-y faced, green haired, weird clothes. Art major. Without a charmer out of county she picks up with… I'm thinking the city. Little fun. There's a creative district. Lots of starving young artist types around. There's an art school. Lots of shitty little… art galleries to look at. Lots of little frown-y faces like her, to run around and drink cheap beer and cheap wine with. I'm trying to help, I'm trying to go that extra mile for you. You're worried? You could do a lot worse, than tramp around that area of the city. Show her picture around, to other kids with funny hair colors. Stop in all the little galleries and stuff. Show her picture around, leave your number."

  "No. That… thanks. That's the best idea anyone came up with yet. Now, if we try that. You'll get the automatic hospital, police, accidents thing."

  "Not trying to scare you? Morgues, too. Its all more or less automatic. Check back in a couple of days, I'll tell you if I get a hit. And, I'll run her by the county Probation guys and girls. That's her type. Now… that extra mile I talked about?"

  "Sure."

  "Got a guy in the city. He's a good cop. Detective. His beat? The artsy farts-y area. I'll give you his work cell. I'll tell him you're a swell guy. You put 4 years in on the job, that counts for something. I'm sure he'll at least meet with you, have a cup of coffee and take your information. He can tell you where to look around. Where the artsy types would go, to drink that cheap beer, and talk about how nobody gets them. Now, its the city. Big art school. Go figure, no one cares if artsy kids wanna smoke a funny cigarette while they hang out drinking cheap beer, frowning at each other. He can point you in the right area where a new girl would hit the pavement to find that. I can't think of anything else I can do, to try to help."

  "No, thanks. You've… I appreciate it. Honey? You got the car."

  Lightning said she wanted to come. Road trip. Little adventure. I said sure.

  "You… might not wanna wear that uniform in the city? You know, scare all the kiddies underage drinking, selling hand rolled cigarettes… I'll be back in a minute. I'll get you his business card."

  "All right. Thanks."

  He wished us luck, and we should check back in a few days. He had our phone numbers, if the computer came back with pay dirt. We went home. I packed food and drink. He changed into regur clothes. I never knew his footlocker had a false bottom. He pulled out a handgun, and had a couple clips. He had a holster and a rig.

  "I didn't know you had that."

  "I don't carry it hardly. All my guns? I have them in storage, at my parent's house. We're going to the city. Lots of seedy pces, I bet."

  "Is that… legal?"

  "No reason to tell you before. I have a concealed carry permit. Works in the whole state, and some others, too. Its the city, hun. Better safe than sorry. And yeah, I know how to use it, if I have to."

  Lightning came in and saw him getting ready. He wore a T shirt, put his shoulder rig on over that. His gun under one arm, the extra clips in their own littler holsters, under his other arm. He put his biggest, loosest T shirt over that, and honestly I knew he had it on, and found it hard to notice. No one else would notice. Maybe a cop, but that would be it, I figured.

  "I thought you didn't jump out of airpnes with a knife in your teeth, Wizzy. Is that for pying on the Army computers?"

  "Air Force computers, but I ran with the Military Police, Light. We're going to the city. We'll be walking around some seedy characters, I'm betting. I'm sure nothing will happen, but if it did? Don't get between me and them. And don't go trying to help out, and kick them, or… pick up a beer bottle, either. I can handle myself. You get out, you don't look back. You make for the car, you lock yourself in and call 911. If you can't get out? You get behind me, and stay out of the way. You do not get between me and trouble."

  "You Tarzan. Me Jane. Gotcha."

  "I'm just like that cop back there, Light. The phone thing. I don't like it. She comes from a small town, like you two. Like me."

  "So?"

  "The city's… different. There's a lot of different kinds of people. Not all of them are nice. In fact, a lot of them aren't. Problem is, girls from little towns, love to hit the city and have fun. The kinds of guys she's drawn to? She'll run right into actual bad boys, not just mouthy pricks on probation. Guys got outta the state pen, shit like that. She'll run right up to the exact wrong types of people. Go with them."

  I thought about it. He was right.

  "Problem is. Little girls think its like a small town, or around campus. You can just cut people off with a smart-ack word or two. That works in a small town, around campus. You hit the city, you get around the wrong people? She'd think she can take care of herself, and she can't. I know what's out there. I'm a guy, and I can handle myself around that element. And even I know to stay away from the city."

  "What do you think could have happened. Worst case."

  "Oh. No phone. I could see her getting mugged, robbed. No money, no phone. Trying to figure out how to get a ride back, with no bus money."

  "Should we check the bus station?"

  "We can't. That cop back there? First thing he'll check. If she hit the city? I figure she got a ride. She'd jump in a car with any people, right?"

  "Yeah. She would."

  "And if I think anyone recognizes her picture, and cms up? Don't be surprised if I seem like I get a little nasty. You go around seedy pces in the city, showing a picture? You tend to get a few assholes. Try to act tough, give you the shits. I speak their nguage. I'm… conversational, in Spanish? I'm fluent in asshole, too."

  "Why are you telling me and Hurry this?"

  "Because. You don't think of me that way. And if you see me get… I don't want you girls to think I'm like that. In small towns? College campuses are pretty okay to tramp around and meet people. Fairly safe. But in the city? College kids are generally poor, and they tend to tramp around the poor sections of the city. We'll probably be around homeless, addicts, pimps and hookers, and every other damn lowlife you can think of. I would recommend? Not wearing any expensive jewelry, fshing money. Keep your cell phones hidden. No purses. Attracts snatchers. And no sexy clothing. Attracts the wrong kind of attention."

  "I should wear my Cold Shower."

  "Yeah. Hurry's normal jeans and T shirt is fine."

  "Sweatpants and T shirt?"

  "Marvelous."

  "I'm taking Teddy Ball."

  "That's fine, I guess. I can't picture anyone wanting to steal a soccer ball."

  I drove us, and after a while as we got closer to the city? He called the detective.

  "Well?"

  "Nice guy. Our cop called him. Said to call him when we get there, he'll meet us and talk. He said he's already running her info and description through his system."

  "Great."

  When we got close, he called him back. He gave him a description, so he could find us. He's in pin clothes, so we wouldn't really notice him, he's trying to blend in. Wiz said he's a little over 6'1", medium build, crew cut. T shirt color and ball cap color. With two tall girls, one 6 foot, the other around 5'11". He says, the detective said that would be easy to spot. He gave me an address, a street intersection. Took us a while to find a pce to park the car that wouldn't cost an arm and a leg. We finally found a pce. We had to walk several blocks.

  Wiz hadn't been kidding. Real hookers, real addicts, real homeless. Street musicians and dancers. Second hand shops and junk shops everywhere. Used clothing and stuff like that was popur. Empty shops and a lot of run down pces. Broken bottles and empty cans and litter everywhere. And mixed in with it all? Yeah, people that looked kind of like Little Miss Moody would hang out with, from her art crowd. She spray paints a streak of color in her hair, and wears weird stuff like they all do. Combat boots with weird color ces, a little bit of goth, but just a little. There were run down tattoo parlors and liquor and beer stores on every block.

  The creative district? Didn't look very creative to me. Looked more like urban decay. Wiz pointed. We stood and watched across the street, as some guy shot up. Then shared the needle with what sure looked to be a cheap hooker. Right out in the open, no one gave three shits. Obviously a normal and regur occurrence around these parts. Wow. What a wonderful pce. We cut through a couple alleys, and there were less people, but everything was worse. More broken gss, more boarded up windows. More empty cans and more litter and general trash. Fire escapes everywhere, and people hanging out in doorways, hanging out the windows.

  When we were sure we had the right intersection, we just stood around. Sure enough, an early middle aged man wandered by. He bought a newspaper, and casually mentioned something.

  "Hey buddy. Your girlfriends? They sure are tall."

  "Yeah. They are."

  "I'll buy you a coffee. Follow me."

  I mean, this guy could be anybody. He didn't look like any kind of a cop, but he was trying to blend in. We followed him into a very non-trendy looking coffee pce. There were a lot of the kinds of people Moody would hang out with here, by looks.

  He introduced himself. Showed Wiz a cell phone picture the cop had sent him.

  "This her? Recent enough."

  "Yeah. I think the spsh of hair spray paint color is green st we saw her. Other than that? Yeah."

  "You guys are from small towns, huh?"

  "Yep."

  "You're the MP, I got that much."

  "Guilty. GI bill now."

  "Yeah. You ain't missing much, getting out of that. What's your bag now?"

  "Mathematics. Computer programming. Some electronics."

  "Good for you. Four years infantry here. Overseas. No GI bill. Came back. Academy… now you see what I look forward to, getting out of bed every day."

  "Thanks for trying to help us."

  "Hey. Anything I can help, something goes right for once? That's a good day. Welcome to the starving artist area. You notice a lot of creativity on your walk here?"

  "Some. Sure. The addict shooting up in broad daylight? Sharing the needle with some hooker? Nice touch."

  "So. I ran her info, fed it in. Takes a couple days if you get a hit usually. Your buddy, gave me the general thing for her. Artsy crowd. Cheap beer. Frown-y face. She'd be looking to smoke a joint. About it?"

  "Yeah. More or less."

  "She likes to date assholes? She'll love this neck of the woods. I'm up to my neck in assholes."

  "I can see."

  "Here's how this pce happened. A big abandoned warehouse? Got renovated, turned into an art school. So, we got kids on loans and grants coming in, going to art school. There's no end to them. As you can see. A girl with a green streak in her hair? She'll blend right in. Now. There's a million little junk shops, and about every other one has a little gallery in the back. The kids all try to sell their… art there. There's a real museum, but that's on the nice end of town. Bus. This ain't the nice end of town, as you can tell."

  "Its a slice of heaven."

  "Oh yeah. Now. The art crowd. They like to smoke, drink, and see each other's art. They like to look at it in all the junk shops. There's a million little dive bars, and the kids like to get a jug of cheap wine, or a cheap case of beer? Hang out in all the abandoned pces. Pretty normal thing for teenagers around here. You go enough blocks that way? You'll find even more abandoned stuff. Kids love it. Your girl. She meets people?"

  "In her crowd, yeah."

  "Okay. These kids breeze in. Find kids to drink and smoke with. Then they crash on floors and couches. All the college kids? If they get a job, they can all pitch in and rent a shitty little apartment. She the type might drink cheap beer, throw rocks at empty bottles, then crash on a couch or floor?"

  "Sure."

  "Show her picture around, you might get lucky. You strapped?"

  "I got a license. Yeah."

  "I don't care about the license. I just care you have it. Girls? I'm not trying to be rude, but… I'd say don't all split up and cover more area. You girls go off, and start showing her picture around, have you seen her? Have you seen her? You're marking yourself as from out of town. Good way to get followed and mugged. Also? Don't walk around staring up at all the buildings. Another good way to get mugged. I'd say, stay with him. Just my advice."