Chapter 12
Finch, Railroad, Toad, and Hick stood in one corner of the coffee shop while Bruiser spoke with the police. Philip had closed the shop as soon as it became obvious that Olivia was missing. He, along with a detective, was in the alley behind the shop. Cowboy had stopped by Olivia's house to bring Aunt Natalie to the shop and was currently entertaining Jayden. Or, as was most likely, Jayden was entertaining Cowboy. He had his sketchbook out and was drawing everyone in the room. They could see the amazement on Cowboy's face as he watched the child prodigy render blank pages into incredibly intricate portraits.
"Ma'am, are you sure she didn't run off with a boyfriend?"
That cop was about to eat his teeth if he didn't stop asking the same stupid questions over and over. Bruiser tamped down his temper and stared Officer Lanes in the face. "How many times do we have to tell you? Olivia didn't run away with her boyfriend because I am her boyfriend. She is a sensible, responsible young woman with deep ties to her family, her job, and her community."
The cop eyed Bruiser and smirked. "Maybe she doesn't like overbearing men. Maybe she was ready to go on with her life, and you wouldn't let her. I've seen the news channels about military relationships. You guys think you own the world and can do whatever you want. I bet she took off to get away from you."
Bruiser stiffened. "Are you insinuating I would hold her back? That I would do something to hurt her?"
Auntie Nat put her hand on Bruiser's arm. "Officer, Grayson Titus is an outstanding young man who serves this country and cares for my niece deeply. I'd be more inclined to believe you would cause her harm than him."
Bruiser's heart swelled at Nat's kind words. He did care deeply for Olivia. He would face down the hounds of hell to ensure she was safe and happy.
"Grayson Titus? You have two first names?" Officer Lanes smirked.
"Can it, Lanes." The second officer, a detective named Coopersmith walked back into the room with Philip trailing behind. "There's signs of a struggle back there. I called in a forensics team. We've got blood."
The hand on Bruiser's arm tightened, and the color drained from Nat's face. One hand pressed trembling fingers to her lips, and her eyes widened in fear. She looked up at Bruiser and then over where Jayden sat drawing next to Cowboy.
Bruiser lifted his chin toward his team, and Hick nodded in understanding. Walking over to the table, he squatted down. "Hey, Jayden. I was wondering if would you draw my picture? I would love to send one home to my parents. Maybe outside in the park down the road?" He smiled warmly at the boy.
"Okay." Jayden gathered his things and stuffed them in his backpack. Together, he and Hick left the shop.
Lanes watched the scene with a frown on his face. "What the hell was that about?"
"Jayden is Olivia's brother," Bruiser answered. "He's developmentally challenged. Intense situations upset him, so I asked one of my men to get him away from here for a while."
"He could be a witness..." Lanes started.
Auntie Nat shook her head. "Jayden was in school until 2:45. I picked him up, and he's been with me since."
The officers took down statements and questioned Margo and Philip extensively. Bruiser's attention was piqued when Philip mentioned a customer who seemed overly interested in Olivia. Unfortunately, he had paid with cash and Philip could only give a vague description. When they rewound the interior camera feed, the man never looked up. It was next to useless.
The forensics team arrived and were shown the alley by Coopersmith. Sitting in the shop next to Auntie Nat, Bruiser had his arm around the woman's shoulders giving her comfort and support. In a corner, the team talked softly together in muted whispers.
The coffee shop, which normally closed at eight, was not emptied until nine that night. After the forensics team had collected all the information they could, they left. Lanes followed close behind, much to Bruiser's relief. If he had to take one more potshot from the smug officer, he was going to lose it. Finch had taken Auntie Nat and Jayden home around seven and was staying with them. Bruiser promised to come by when he left the shop.
"So now what, Detective?" Bruiser asked.
Coopersmith took in a breath and blew it out. "Normally, we wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person report, but with the evidence we have here, it's obvious she didn't leave on her own. There were two areas of blood, one in the middle of the alley next to the shoe and another splatter on the wall beside the door. The evidence by the door is A positive, which matches her. The bloody tooth matches the spots on her shoe. It's B positive, the attacker." He pursed his lips. "Unless I miss my guess, she put up a fight and kicked somebody's teeth in."
Pride swelled in Bruiser. Hell yeah, his woman was a fighter. "She's former Army, so I'm sure whoever took her got his lunch handed to him for the trouble." He chewed his bottom lip a second. "What do you think happened?"
Coopersmith lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not sure. It could be she saw something she shouldn't have. It could be any number of things. The world we live in now is nothing like the world of our parents or even our childhood. It's not safe for anyone these days. I suppose that's something you boys know well, being in the Navy."
Behind them, Hick snorted. "That's for damned sure."
Coopersmith checked his tablet. With a nod, he turned it off and slid it into its holster on his belt. Seeing their confused looks, he pointed to the tablet. "New policy. They want everything down as soon as possible, so we're tethered to these things." He laughed. "I don't expect it to last much longer. It already costs the department a fortune in lost and damaged units." He walked toward the door where Philip stood with the key in hand. "I know you want to help but leave this to us. Your job is to defend our country. Let us take care of the small stuff. Go home, get some rest. I'll keep you updated."
Cowboy shot to his feet and opened his mouth, but Bruiser gave him the signal to be quiet. With a glare, Cowboy closed his lips and stared daggers at the detective. Bruiser's team had his back which meant they had Olivia's as well. That "small stuff" remark grated all of their nerves. "Thank you, Detective," Bruiser said simply.
Once outside and standing by their cars, the team grouped again. "Ok, Bruise. What are we doing?" Hick asked.
"We're going to find my woman," Bruiser said succinctly. "If we can find one man in a hell hole in some backward nation, we can find one woman in San Diego. Let me see it, Railroad."
As soon as they had arrived and before the forensics team got there, Railroad snuck around back and took photos of the entire alley, including several minutes of video. Observation was one of his special talents. Not much got past him. He produced a camera and pictures displayed on the screen. One by one, Bruiser touched a picture, expanded it, and examined it carefully. As each photograph filled the screen, Railroad commented and pointed out different items including Olivia's purse, which lay on top of a crushed box with her sneaker laying beside it. Drops of blood splattered the dingy cardboard and Bruiser took comfort in knowing it wasn't hers.
They watched the video slowly panning around. "Hey, stop," Toad said. "Back up a couple of seconds."
Bruiser did as he asked then paused the video. "What?"
Toad squinted his eyes a moment then pointed to the uppermost left corner. "Is that what I think it is?"
Bruiser grinned. "Good eye, Toad. Cowboy, you think you can go check it out? Toad, Hick, and Railroad, recon. I need to get to Auntie Nat's house and make sure they are alright. We'll meet at my place at 22:00."
They dispersed, but Bruiser stopped Cowboy. "Did you get in touch with our friend back East?"
Cowboy shook his head. "I tried. His wife finally answered and said he was out of touch for a couple of days."
"Dammit," Bruiser swore and paced. "We need data."
"I may know someone who knows someone. Give me a second." Cowboy pulled out his cell and made a call. "It's Alcide. Yeah, long time no talk. Listen, Cindy, I hate to call this late, but I'm in a bit of a jam here. Is your cousin, Ryker around?" He looked up at Bruiser and grinned. "I didn't know he was back in Cali. Do you have his number?"
Ryker McMillan, known as "Digger" to his friends, stood and stretched. Pulling his glasses from his face, he dropped them onto his keyboard and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His thumb touched the still-sensitive field of scar tissue that bisected his face, starting at his left temple before curving around his left eye and radiating down over his cheek. The contact caused him to wince. Even though it had been almost two years since the accident that ended his career in the Marines, he was still adjusting. Never what one would call handsome, his new looks guaranteed he wouldn't be getting dates anytime soon. It was rather ironic that his job with Starpower, Inc. had him working closely with some of Hollywood's most beautiful and talented. Of course, he worked mostly behind the scenes, handling their clients' digital presence. It was something for which he had a natural talent.
A chirp sounded from the center drawer of his desk. He frowned. Who would be calling him on his phone this late at night? Grabbing it, he checked the caller ID and saw it was an unknown number in San Diego. "The plot thickens," he murmured to himself.
"McMillan."
"Hey, Ryker, I don't know if you remember me; this is Alcide Montgomery. I used to date your cousin Cindy in high school."
"Alcide? Yeah, I think I remember. You both graduated a couple of years ahead of me, right?"
"Yeah, man. Look, I was wondering if you were still working in computers?"
"Yesss?" Digger frowned, not exactly sure where this was going. "Why?"
"I've got a friend. Well, actually, he's a fellow SEAL team member. His lady is missing, and the guy we normally use for information is unavailable. I thought maybe you could help us out."
Excitement rushed through Digger, and he couldn't help but grin. Sitting down in his chair, he grabbed a pen and paper. "Give me everything you've got."
As Alcide gave him the rundown on what they knew, he made notes. Once he had everything, he sat back. "Anything else?"
"We noticed a camera across the street. From the angle, it doesn't seem like it was looking down the alley itself, but there may be something useful on the footage. I'm trying to track down the owner but so far haven't had much luck."
"Alright. I've got it. I'll get on this and call you as soon as I find out anything. And Alcide? Thanks for trusting me to help. I appreciate it."
"Anything you can do to get Livy back is appreciated."
Dropping his telephone on the desk, Digger pulled his keyboard toward him and cracked his knuckles. Picking up his glasses, he grinned. His hacking skills are what landed him the Marines at eighteen. Spending six years in the Corps was some of the best years of his life. He thought it was all over when that explosion and fire had ransacked the data center on his last deployment. Now, two years later, he finally felt alive again. Taking care of pampered prima-donnas who didn't want their latest indiscretion plastered on social media was one thing. Saving lives was something entirely different. Call him an adrenaline junkie, but this was what he lived for.
He placed his fingers on the keyboard; the old ways came easily. He grinned again. It took him less than ten minutes to locate the feed from the camera. He was in luck - it was one of those models that stored images to a cloud. Backing it up, he watched until a black cargo van parked in the alleyway, stayed for a couple of minutes then left. Stopping the feed, he digitally zoomed in on the back end as it was speeding away.
"Got ya," Digger muttered. Turning to his keyboard again, he entered the DMV database and started a search on the license plate.