Scream (14 page)

"What friend?"

"Don't know. Seems Amber kept her life pretty private."

Wiley leaned his elbows on the desk and tented his hands in
front of him. "Did you talk to Mr. Tattoo yet?"

"Paid him a visit last night while he was closing the shop.
Says he was expecting Amber Friday night; they were supposed
to hang out at Bruno's for a few hours, down a few drinks, dance
some, then go back to his place. But she never showed. Said he
waited until after midnight but no Amber, so he just figured
she got sick or something came up, and he went home. The next
day he tried calling her, but there was no answer. Tried again
the rest of this week, but every time, no answer. He assumed
she'd gone away and forgot to tell him."

"Forgot to tell her boyfriend she was going away for a week?"
Wiley looked at the photo of Amber again. She was wearing a
fitted red tank top, short jean shorts, and sandals. Her brown
hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was smiling ear to ear
and holding up a horseshoe like it was some kind of trophy.
Good-looking girl. Nice figure.

"I know," Jess said. She was back to nibbling at her fingernail. "Sounds odd, don't it? Lover boy says he's got more than a
handful of people that can testify that he was at Bruno's until
after midnight last Friday and every night since then. Said he
goes there every evening after he closes the shop."

Wiley smoothed his mustache and pressed his lips into a thin
line. "And you said you questioned him at his shop?"

"Yes. It's in Frostburg. College Avenue. He gets a lot of clientele from the college."

"Did you notice any snapshots of Amber around?"

Jess thought for a moment. " As a matter of fact, yes. There
were a few on the counter of Mitch and her, and a couple on
one of the walls. He did a phoenix tattoo on her lower back."

Wiley sat back in his chair again, crossed his arms over his
chest. Amber stared at him from the photo on the desk. Her
mouth was smiling, but her eyes pleaded with him, begging.
All at once the room starting closing in upon him. The walls
tightened; the ceiling crouched. His chest constricted, making
it feel like he was breathing through a straw. He tried to draw
in a deep breath, but his lungs were in a vise. Then the room
began to spin, first slow, then faster, faster. But in the center of
it all was Amber. Her face. Smiling. Pleading.

"-Sheriff?"

Wiley started and looked at Jess. She was standing in front of
his desk, leaning over it.

"You OK? You looked like you were ready to faint or
something."

Wiley rubbed his face with both hands, smoothed his
mustache. "Yeah. I'm fine. I hate these cases. Get me a list of
every client he's had in the past week. Run their backgrounds.
See if anything comes up. And keep an eye on Romeo. Visit him
every day if you have to. Let him know we're watching him."

"I'll head back over there right now. I have a few other questions I want to ask him too. Better to do it in person."

Jess turned to leave. Wiley cleared his throat, a sign he wasn't
finished yet.

"Something on your mind, sir?" Jess said, one hand on her
hip, thumb hooked in her belt.

"You dating anyone yet?"

Jess's eyes narrowed. He'd taken her by surprise. Good. It
kept her sharp. "No," she said, letting the vowel linger on the
edge of her lips. "Is this relevant ... ?"

"You need a life, Jess."

"I have a life, sir."

"Outside your job."

"I have a life outside my job."

Wiley studied her for a moment. Jess was an attractive girl,
smart, responsible, good sense of humor when she wanted one.
No reason any guy wouldn't want to date her. He nodded once.
"You need a boyfriend."

Jess pursed her lips, a look his mother used to give him
when he'd come home late for dinner and run through his list
of rehearsed excuses, none of which convinced her of his innocence. "With all due respect, let me worry about my personal life,
sir. You worry about the whereabouts of Miss Amber there."

Wiley smiled. He liked Jess's spunk. It was one of the qualities that made her such a good cop. "Fair enough ... but you still
need a man in your life."

Jess grinned and shook her head. "I believe that's my call."
She then turned and walked out of Wiley's office, thumb still
hooked in her belt.

Jess pushed through the glass door of Monster's Ink Tattoo
Studio. An electronic chime announced her arrival. The place
was more art studio than tattoo shop. Jess had been in some
of the other shops in Frostburg and Cumberland, and none of
them compared to this. The walls and ceiling were linen white, the floor, black and white checkered tile. Framed images of
artsy designs hung on the walls, spotlighted by track lighting
positioned in strategic locations across the ceiling. A white
counter sat in the middle of the large room, and behind it, a
small waiting area furnished with four black art deco chairs
and a black table stacked with magazines and photo albums of
tattoos. In one corner sat a large flat-screen TV flashing a music
video. Beyond the waiting area a black curtain hung from
ceiling to floor, hiding the work area from prying eyes.

Jess picked up the TV remote and pushed the mute button.
She could hear the hum of the tattoo gun behind the curtain.
She knocked on the counter. "Mitch Young?"

"Be out in a minute," Mitch shouted.

She took a seat in one of the chairs and flipped through a
photo album while biting off the last remnants of the nail of
her index finger. This Mann case had her bewildered. Either
Amber ran off unannounced, which, according to her sister and
co-worker, wasn't like her at all, or there'd been some foul play.
And as far as she was concerned, Mitch Young was at the top
of the list. Something about him just didn't sit right in her gut.
She'd only been a deputy a few years, but she had natural police
instincts. She could smell a rat through ten feet of concrete.
And Tattoo Mitch emanated the aroma of rat.

A few minutes later the curtain swung open and Mitch
stepped out. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white
T-shirt. His dark hair was cropped close to his head, and his
angular face was framed by a set of jaw-length sideburns and
little tuft of hair below his bottom lip. A look of surprise lighted
his face when he saw Jess. "Deputy Foreman. What-is Amber
OK? Did you find her?"

Jess shook her head. "Not yet. Have a seat, Mitch. Do you
have time for a few more questions?"

Mitch looked back through the curtain. "Take a break, Jules.
I'll be right back." He then turned to Jess. "Mind if we go outside
and talk? I could use a smoke."

"Sure."

When they were outside, Mitch reached in his pocket and
pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter. He smacked the pack
against his palm, slid out a cigarette, and flipped it into his
mouth. Lighting it up, he drew in a long breath and closed his
eyes. "I've been working on Julie in there for over an hour. I
needed a break."

He exhaled, letting the smoke filter out of his mouth in a
slow, curling ribbon. "So any leads on where Amber is?"

"Not yet," Jess said. "I was hoping you could help us with
that."

"I thought I answered all your questions last night. You really
think she was abducted?"

"You don't?"

Mitch shook his head and sucked on his cigarette. "Nope.
Man, I hope not. I only knew her a couple months, but she was
an independent one. The type to do what she wanted and no
one was going to change her mind. I learned real quick just to
accept it. 'Course, well ... never mind."

Jess cocked her head to the side. "Go on."
"

Mitch tapped his cigarette and a pillar of ash crumbled to
the sidewalk. "Well, it's just that, we weren't like, `boyfriend
and girlfriend,' if you know what I mean."

I don't. Please explain."

"We weren't all lovey and stuff; we just liked ... being with
each other." He looked at her and shrugged. "You know, being
with each other. It was a release for both of us. We were good
together."

Jess knew exactly what he meant. It was a relationship of convenience. They both had something the other wanted. At
least that was his take on it. She wondered if Amber felt the
same way. "And you think she got tired of you and left?"

"Yeah" He shrugged it off in an obvious attempt to protect
his manly ego. "No big deal."

"And left the area too?"

"I didn't say that. I don't know, maybe she just needed some
time alone, maybe she's visiting friends out of state. Who
knows? But abducted? Man, I hope not."

"Did she have out-of-state friends?"

Mitch shrugged and tapped his cigarette again, dispensing
another pillar of ash. "How should I know? It was just an idea.
I'm just saying that she seemed like the type to pick up and leave
without saying anything. Abduction seems like such a stretch."

"Her co-worker said that's not like her at all. Said she was a
reliable worker, always showed up on time and did her job."

Mitch snorted. "Who'd you talk to, that old gal she works
with, Marge?"

"Yes.

"Amber said that old woman mothered her like a hen." He
dropped the cigarette and ground it into the sidewalk with his
boot. "Then again, she probably knew Amber better than I did.
Sorry, Deputy, I guess I can't be of much help. Seems I only
knew one side of Amber."

Jess looked at the cigarette butt on the sidewalk. "You gonna
just leave that there?"

Mitch looked at the butt, then up at her. "What?"

"It's littering. I could slap you with a three-hundred-dollar
fine right here."

Mitch stooped and picked up the butt. "Thanks for the
heads-up. I gotta get back to Julie. You'll let me know when she
shows up?"

"Do you want to know?"

Mitch nodded and lowered his brow. "I'd like to. Just for the
peace of mind."

"I'll keep you updated. This probably won't be the last you'll
see of me."

"Great," Mitch said, rolling his eyes.

Jess turned to leave, then stopped. "Hey, Mitch, one more
thing. Why do you think Amber would leave her car at the
diner? Seems kinda odd for someone running away or just
going out of state, doesn't it?"

Mitch held the glass door half open. "Don't know. Maybe
someone picked her up."

"That out-of-state friend?"

Mitch didn't say anything.

Jess continued. "I just think it's odd that you were the last
person she was supposed to see before she vanished. Just makes
me wonder is all."

Again, Mitch didn't say anything. He turned and let the door
slowly close behind him.

"Oh, one more thing," Jess said. "Mitch?"

Mitch stopped the door from shutting completely and poked
his head out.

"I'll need a list of all your clients in the last, say, four weeks.
OK?"

"I don't think you can do that, can you?"

"I could get a warrant, but that would make my life complicated, and if my life gets complicated, so does yours."

Mitch frowned. "I'll see what I can do."

Jess smiled. "Thanks, Mitch. I'll be back tomorrow to pick
it up"

She walked back to her cruiser, got in, and looked at the
address for her next stop. 2037 Charlestown Road. Liz Fiddler.

Lord, You need to give us a lead on this one. That girl is out
there somewhere; I know it. Please keep her safe. And keep
her alive.

Show me the way.

She lifted a hand and bit a hangnail from her ring finger.

Jess had no problem finding the Fiddler residence. There was
only one potholed road that ran through Charlestown, and the
Fiddlers lived a mere half mile outside of town. Their home
was a faded blue, vinyl-sided double-wide trailer that sat in the
middle of a large level lot surrounded by maple saplings. To the
right and left of the home were similar double-wides on similar
lots. Across the road was a wide-open field that must have just
been harvested. Looked like soybeans had grown there. It gradually sloped upward for maybe a quarter mile until it met a
heavy tree line dense with evergreens. Where field met forest
Jess noticed a thick-shouldered buck standing tall, head erect,
no doubt scanning the area for predators before giving the OK
for the rest of the family to venture out into the open.