Page 10 of Wanted

“Do you work here?”

He looks me up and down. “Something like that.”

“Have you seen her?” I show him the picture. “Her name’s Ashley. She told me she was meeting someone here and I just need to find her.”

“When?”

“About a week ago.”

“Who was she meeting?”

“I…” I trail off because she never told me his name. “A man.”

His eyes narrow on me and then a smile covers his face. Before I know it, the grin turns into full-on laughter.

“A man?” he says in between guffaws.

Even the bartender, who’s remained stoic throughout our entire exchange, cracks a smile.

“Yeah, we know what kind of man she was meeting.”

His comment is biting and immediately, I become furious. “What are you implying?” I rise to my feet and glare at him.

I don’t ever curse, but the protectiveness I feel over Ashley overtakes me.

My anger makes him laugh even harder.

“This isn’t funny,” I insist. “She’s my sister and she’s missing and this is the last place she told me she was going.”

I push the phone in his face again. “If someone doesn’t start taking me seriously, I will get the police involved.”

So what if I’ve already tried to get the police involved. They don’t know that.

This sobers the guy up. He narrows his eyes on me.

“Now that I have your attention, can you please tell me if you’ve seen her within the last week in this place.”

I hold my phone up between him and the bartender. When neither of them says anything, I try a different tactic.

“Excuse me?” I say to the people sitting at the table nearest to me. “Have you seen this woman? Her name is Ashley?”

The couple shakes their heads and I go to the next table and the booth after that. Anyone within reach of my arms’ reach, I tap and show them the picture of Ashley.

“What the hell are you doing?” the man who was seated next to me at the bar demands.

“Getting answers,” I say flippantly while showing the picture to another couple.

“You’re looking for trouble.”

“And you’re hiding something,” I reply. I don’t know how I know this. I can feel it though. The silence from the bartender, the way this guy showed up at my side once I started pressing for answers, the way he implied my sister was some sort of prostitute or something.

It all leads me to believe he’s actively trying to dissuade me from finding something out.

“Where is my sister?” I insist, getting in his face. I’m not normally aggressive or particularly confrontational. But it’s different when it comes to Ashley.

I’m her big sister.

I protect her.