Page 47 of Thorn Evermore
“A serial killer?”
“Worse. Trafficking.”
Hot rage spreads through my chest. “I fucking hate traffickers. Where’s he at?”
“You know that old bar, Stan’s?”
Bowie’s uncle’s place. “I do.”
“That’s his main strip.”
“Blue van, you say?”
“Yeah. With a faded yellow stripe on the side.”
“I’m on it. You stay safe, huh?”
“I will. If you see Moxie, can you let her know I’m looking for her? It’s been, like, two weeks. I’m kind of worried.”
“I’ll keep an eye out. You hungry?”
Greer nods. “Yeah.”
I pull a few twenties out of my pocket and press them into his palm. “Do you still have my card?”
He nods. “It’s in my satchel, but I’m alright. I can handle myself out here.”
“I know you can, but if things get too rough, you can always call.”
“Thanks, man.” He steps closer. “Can I hook you up for the cash?”
I cup his chin. “Thank you, but no. It’s a gift.”
He beams. “You’re so cool.”
“Be safe, Greer, and don’t worry about Van.”
I tear off into the night, heading to the area where Synfirst found Bowie. If Blue Van Guy is harassing people down here, that’s bad enough, but if he’s trafficking? Well, he’s got some explaining to do.
It doesn’t take long for me to find the van, but it’s empty. My guy must be out prowling. I pause, leaning against a brick building to listen closely, picking up the slightly panicked scent in the air and muffled voices.
I figure out the direction and dart down an alleyway, coming on the scene seconds later. A middle-aged man wearing black from head to toe has a young woman cornered. I’ve seen her around here a few times before. She’s quiet and tries to stay out of trouble, but it’s not easy living out here, especially being female.
As I approach, her eyes flick to me, but I raise my index finger to my lips to gesture for her to stay quiet.
“If you come with me, you can sleep in a real house, in a bed,” the man says. “Way better shit than what you’ve got out here. It’s nice there too. Warm, beachy. Come on, kid. I’ll give you fifty bucks just for making me not force you.”
“No way,” she says.
He grabs her hair, violently pulling her away from the wall. Ah, fuck this.
“I’ll come with you,” I say. The man swings around, and my jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Get the fuck out of here, man,” he growls. “This isn’t your business.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “That’s where you’re wrong, my guy. Everything in New Onyx is my business. Now this is interesting, Dale McMichael.”
Dale’s eyes go wide. “Wha—I don’t know who that is.”