Fraud twice felt, p.4
Fraud Twice Felt, page 4
Derwin opened up Connie’s HR file, while Elliot looked at the skip files he’d spread out earlier. With a shrug, he put them aside. He wasn’t crazy about getting visions, but hopefully they wouldn’t be too bad. It’d be more exciting than filing, anyway.
He peeked at Derwin, who was taking down an address. “So the girlfriend. Any chance Billy ran off and eloped with her? Maybe they’re hiding out somewhere?” Even as he said it, Elliot doubted it was true. From all accounts Connie was an open, loving person, not one that a guy would hide from. It was nice that Connie was worried about her son being missing. That hadn’t been the case for Elliot; his parents had kicked him out after a guy kissed him at school, and he hadn’t heard a peep from them since. According to the file, Connie’s son was twenty, one year older than Elliot. I wonder what he’s like.
Derwin turned to Bob, who paused, then shook his head. “Don’t think Billy would do that. I’ve met her son a few times; we’ve had lunch together here. He seems like an average kid. Wanted to become an illustrator, as I recall. I can’t see him just up and leaving. I mean, he has college classes to attend.”
“We’ll take a look. Thank you, sir.” Elliot always called Bob sir, even when Bob told him not to. It didn’t feel right calling the man by his first name.
He finished putting away everything and grabbed his lunch box and his keys. Derwin held out the note.
“We might as well try the first thing here. Maybe we won’t even need to check the apartment if you get something.” Derwin looked apologetic but determined.
Elliot sighed. His Oddity was more of a curse than a gift. But this was just a note. Not likely that Connie’s son had written it while being skewered alive or anything. “Fine.” He took off his gloves.
With a wary glance at Bob, Elliot took hold of the note.
Oh my God, he’s missing! What did he need the money for? Where is he? The thoughts weren’t Elliot’s; they were Connie’s and he was Connie, standing in her kitchen with the note in one hand and the other hand at her throat in shock. Her heart was racing. Billy was a good boy. He went to class and called every weekend and never got into trouble. What could he possibly need ten thousand dollars for? Had he gotten that new girlfriend of his pregnant?
Elliot blinked and just as quickly, the vision was gone. “Never been a mom before,” he said as he handed back the note. “Sorry. I got Connie, not her son. I guess her emotions were stronger when she picked up the note than his were when he wrote it.”
Derwin shrugged. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t get much from it. Still, better safe than sorry.” He tucked away the note. “Let’s head out.”
Elliot followed him to his car.
Billy Barton’s apartment was located near the university, in an older complex that was eight stories high, nestled in between newer apartment buildings and condos. Derwin had the code to get them into the building but not the mail key, which was a shame; it would be nice to know what kind of mail the guy was getting. Maybe they’d find a mailbox key inside the apartment.
The elevator was older than dirt and squeaked on the way up, but since Billy lived on the sixth floor, Elliot gritted his teeth and endured the ride, standing close to Derwin. “What do you think we’ll find?” he asked as the elevator stopped and the door slowly opened. He really hoped it wasn’t a body. If it was a body, then that meant he’d have to witness another murder.
“Won’t know until we go in,” Derwin whispered. He headed down the hallway, with Elliot close behind. Second door on the left, he stopped. “This is it.”
Elliot took a deep breath as Derwin unlocked the door and pushed it open. The apartment was quiet. There was a faint smell, like mold.
“Doesn’t smell like . . . I think the place is empty.” Derwin pulled his gun, holding it with the barrel pointed down. “Let me check it first. Not letting you walk into danger again.”
Elliot nodded, swallowing back a retort. Not letting me walk into danger? But what if I want to? However, for now he was happy to let Derwin take care of the fighting and gun-toting crap.
Derwin entered, and Elliot spent the next five minutes fidgeting in the empty hallway, waiting and wondering what was taking so long. No sounds of gunfire or a struggle, so that was good, but no voices, either, which meant Billy wasn’t home.
When Derwin stuck his head out the door, Elliot nearly jumped out of his skin. “The place is empty—well clear of people, anyway. Come on in.”
Heart thudding in his chest, Elliot entered. The apartment was as basic as he’d figured it would be. A cheap couch with tears in the fabric, some plastic bins with books and video games, a small TV, and a beanbag were in the main room. There was also a corner where apparently Billy did his art, with an easel and stacks of paper. One thing that was odd was that Elliot didn’t see any finished pieces. Maybe Billy had taken his portfolio with him?
The kitchen was small but tidy, except for a bowl left in the sink, which was where the moldy smell was coming from. The bedroom had a double-sized bed with a blue quilt that appeared handmade, and a laptop plugged into the corner outlet on the floor. No desk.
“Wherever he is, he doesn’t have his computer,” Elliot commented. If Billy was in school, that seemed odd. And sinister.
“Hmm,” Derwin said, kneeling to check under the bed. He grabbed a pencil that was in a happy face coffee mug, using it to reach for something, and fished out a small matchbox with a yellow Chinese lion, scooting it along on the carpet to avoid touching it.
“Does he smoke?” Elliot asked. Seemed odd to have a matchbox if Billy didn’t smoke. And Elliot hadn’t seen any ashtrays, or smelled stale cigarettes in the apartment.
“I doubt it,” Derwin replied. “His mom would frown on it. She’s always on Bob’s case to get him to quit.”
“Okay, that’s weird.” Elliot picked up the matchbox, and took it back into the living room and set it on the kitchen counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, then peeked into the fridge. It was nearly empty. “I doubt he spent a lot of time here.”
Derwin returned from the bedroom. “College student? Yeah, that’s probably typical, especially if he had a girlfriend.” He scanned the kitchen as well. “No landline, and I didn’t see a phone, so we’ll assume he has that on him, wherever he is. Go ahead and start touching stuff. Once we’re done checking here, I’ll call the hospitals and morgues. It’s always possible he was hit by a truck on his way to class or something, and didn’t have his ID.”
Elliot grimaced, feeling queasy. “That’s a horrible thought. But I guess it makes sense.” Taking one last look at the place, he sighed. There was no use delaying things. “Try to make sure I don’t knock myself out. And be ready to take notes.” He pulled off his gloves, leaving them on the counter.
He went into the bedroom and sat on the floor, as Derwin hovered by the doorway. With Grady’s murder, he hadn’t had a computer to check, and later learned that details of the crime had been located there, so he was hitting it first this time. He placed his hands on the laptop. Nothing. Elliot opened the laptop, and placed his fingers on the keyboard, as if to type.
Still nothing.
He picked up the laptop, making sure to touch all the surface areas, but the most he got was a vague stress about reports due and deadlines. So whatever was going on with Billy, it wasn’t connected to his computer. No intense emotions here, folks. Elliot sighed.
“Nothing,” he reported, standing up. He glanced at the bed and grimaced. Beds often held visions, but not the ones he really wanted to see. Still, he had to be thorough. “I get a blowjob if I have to watch the guy having sex,” Elliot quipped, before reaching out to touch the pillows.
Sure enough, the images came. A blond girl, a brunette, and then an Asian girl—this image was the most intense, flashing into a full vision of Billy lying in bed with the young woman, holding her. Mei Chun, that was her name, and she spoke in a lilting voice, her English hesitant and heavily accented. Billy was speaking with her.
“You’re funny,” she said, smiling as she cupped his cheek. His heart swelled.
“I love you. I’ve never met anyone like you.” Mei’s dark-brown eyes sparkled, and she laughed, her long black hair fanned out across the pillow. Billy couldn’t believe his luck at finding her, chatting with her after his meeting with the bosses. She’s so pretty. If I was to draw her, I’d capture that heart-shaped face and the little gap in her front teeth.
Elliot blinked, coming out of the vision.
“You owe me two blow jobs. No, make that three. Although the last one was kind of nice. Did Connie say anything about that new girlfriend of his? I think her name might be Mei Chun. She’s Asian,” Elliot reported, being careful not to touch any other part of the bed as he backed out of the bedroom.
“You got a name?” Derwin looked at him in surprise before jotting the information down. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to him how much information Elliot could get from a vision. “Mei Chun. Chinese. You think she’s the girlfriend? I take it you saw a typical college, uh, series of dates.”
Elliot rolled his eyes. “Not like I haven’t seen hetero sex before, though Theresa was careful not to book me with any women. But yeah. Mei was different because Billy told her he loved her. Also, that vision was longer, more intense. More emotions attached to it.”
“Okay. Well that gives us something. You’d be able to give me a detailed description?”
Elliot headed out to the tiny living room as Derwin spoke, letting him follow. It would be nice to sit, but he didn’t want to contaminate anything in the apartment—they could be either parts of a possible crime scene, or as possible sources of visions.
He settled for leaning against the wall. “Yeah. Gap between her two front teeth. Long black hair. Short—not sure exactly how short, but she’s petite. Pretty, too.”
Derwin nodded, writing. “We should have you take art classes. It would be so much better if you could draw what you see.”
Elliot blinked. He’d loved computers and math when he was younger—his parents would have killed him if he’d even contemplated art. Boys didn’t draw, at least according to them. But now . . . it made perfect sense. How much better would he be at investigating things if he could draw something more than a stick figure? “That’s a good idea.”
Derwin chuckled. “My dad’s been working on getting an ID for you. Once you have that, we can take a look at the community college.” He gestured toward the sofa. “Ready to try the next object?”
While Elliot wanted to groan, he settled for a little sigh. “Yep. Let’s get this over.” He walked over to the sofa and ran his hands along the seat.
The strength of the vision knocked him on his face.
“You don’t understand! They own me! There’s nowhere I can hide.” Mei Chun’s eyes were filled with tears, and her nose looked swollen. There was a bruise under one eye, and someone had split her lip. She clutched a blanket, sitting on the edge of the sofa, half bent over as if she wanted to disappear into it.
“Shh,” Elliot said—or rather, Billy said, as Elliot was Billy. His hand was on Mei’s thigh, offering comfort and support. “We knew they’d come for you eventually. We just need a little more time. I’m almost done with their project, and then hopefully I’ll have the money to pay them off. We’ll figure something out.”
Mei’s face crumpled, and she shook her head, clutching Billy’s hand. “They’ll never let you do that. You don’t understand. They own me.” She spoke the words with an emphasis that made Billy shiver as she looked up into his eyes. His heart was breaking because it was true. He knew this gang. Not only did they own Mei—they pretty much owned him too now, since he’d impressed them so much with his damned etching.
They were both fucked.
Elliot gasped, coming out of the vision to find himself sprawled on the sofa. “Shit.” His heart was pounding, his mouth dry. He clutched his hands to his chest, not willing to risk another vision so soon. “What did the note Billy wrote say again? How much was he asking his mother for?”
Derwin’s brows drew together. “He asked for ten thousand, I believe. What did you see?” He had the pen and notepad in hand, ready to write.
Elliot shook his head, which was already starting to ache, as it often did with intense visions. “It has to do with Mei. She was crying. She said they ‘own’ her—she said it twice, in fact. Billy was working for the same group and hoping to pay them off or something. They’re tangled up with a gang.” She hadn’t looked like the type who had grown up on the rough side of town and hung out with violent criminals. She’d looked like a frightened little girl, honestly. But Elliot knew more than anyone how innocents could get tossed out into the street and swallowed by the gangs.
At the mention of gangs, Derwin’s face had darkened. “You mean like the Tatsu?”
Elliot shrugged. While the Tatsu gang was one of the most powerful gangs in the city—and the one whose boss had vowed to kill him—they weren’t the only gang in town. “Dunno. Billy’s thoughts were muddled on that. He had his own personal fear, like he was also involved with them. He thought about an etching. I have no idea what that was about.” He chewed his lip. “What kind of trouble could cost over ten grand?” Drugs were a possibility, of course. But that didn’t feel right. What he’d witnessed sounded more like Mei had crossed the gang in some really bad way. Maybe she’d testified against someone in court, or snitched to the police.
He continued. “Anyways, she sounded terrified, like she knew they’d come after her. This gang might have snatched both of them. We should try to locate her.”
“Connie’s going to shit a brick.” Derwin rubbed his forehead. “Okay, let’s keep checking. At least we’ve got something to follow up on.”
And it didn’t seem that the gang had killed them here—well not on the sofa anyways. Elliot glanced over at the easel and art stuff, chewing his lip. He tried touching various things, but nothing came. The final drawings probably would have had more, wherever they were. To be thorough, he walked over and tried the beanbag, then the TV, but still nothing. Then Elliot ran his fingers along the spines of the books in the crate. On one book he received only the faintest image of a woman with dark skin and a big smile. Connie? But the feelings were old, from a childhood memory, perhaps. It didn’t have anything to do with Billy’s current situation.
Elliot tried touching the door handles and the walls, but no impressions came. That left only the kitchen. Steeling himself, he tried the knives, figuring he might as well go for the worst-case scenarios first. He felt relief when not so much as a glimmer of an image came through. The fridge, stove, even the dirty bowl in the sink yielded nothing.
“He must not have been living here very long,” Elliot commented as he continued to touch various kitchen appliances and utensils.
Derwin stood watching him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “What makes you say that?”
Elliot held up his bare hands. “I’m not getting anything. That means one, that he didn’t have too many intense memories here, and two, that this apartment has had a steady stream of tenants, all of them pretty boring.”
When he ran out of things to touch, his gaze slipped back over to the matchbox. It was such a little thing, and it had been under the bed of all places. Yet, somehow, he had a feeling about it. Eh, what the hell. Elliot picked it up.
He got a flash—fear. That was all, but it was enough to make him grip the object tightly, his insides shaking. “There’s something with this matchbox, but I don’t know what.” Elliot opened his hand shakily for Derwin to take it.
“What is it?” Derwin pulled out a little plastic baggie and placed the matchbox inside, then stuck it into his pocket.
“I just got an emotion. Fear. It was strong, which I guess is why it stayed, but I didn’t get anything else.” Elliot rubbed his forehead, where a headache was mounting into full migraine territory. “I think that’s all I can do for today.” He staggered toward the counter, desperate to get his gloves back on.
Derwin beat him to it. “Here, let me,” he said, pulling the soft leather over Elliot’s digits. It was really nice having somebody who not only accepted his Oddity but sort of got it. Derwin could sense his pain, saw how the visions affected him, and took good care of Elliot when they happened.
Once the gloves were back on, Elliot leaned against Derwin, enjoying the size difference between them, and Derwin’s strength. “So what do we do next?” He yawned. “I could use a nap.”
Derwin hugged him with one arm. “You did your work. We’ll go home, and I’ll make some phone calls and see what I find. Then we’ll update Connie and see if she has anything else to add.” He led Elliot to the door. “In a way, it’s like what I do when finding fugitives. You simply start checking different leads.”
As they exited the apartment, Derwin clicked off the lights. He sighed. “I just hope for Connie’s sake that her son is all right.”
Elliot nodded, swaying with exhaustion as he followed. Poor Billy and Mei. Looks like they’re in very deep trouble.
As soon as Derwin had helped Elliot into the car, Elliot passed out. Fortunately, Derwin had seen this happen before; otherwise he’d be having a coronary about now. Elliot’s Oddity amazed him and occasionally frightened him, but today he was thankful for it. They had the girlfriend’s name, and it seemed likely that Billy’s disappearance was tied to some kind of affiliations with a gang. But where was Mei?
“I swear I am going to hunt Roy Yoshiro down and kill him if he’s involved in this.” Derwin took a hairpin turn, his brakes screeching. Elliot didn’t make a sound—he really was out cold.
When Derwin pulled up to his place, he gently shook Elliot awake, keeping his voice low. “Keep your eyes shut and lean on me. I’ll get you to the couch. Then you can sleep.” Elliot nodded, groaning, but before the door was open, he was out again. Derwin ended up carrying him inside. No biggie. He hadn’t even begun to use up the power he’d drawn from last night.
