“He’s a liability to you if you don’t get him straightened out.”
“Thanks. I’ll deal with him, or tie his ass up until he gets under control.”
“Good, because I’d hate to have her brother come looking for his head. He’s one hell of a deadly motherfucker.
“Shit. Understood.” We part ways, and I call Cesar. “Meet me out front.”
When I get down to the lobby, Cesar’s there with the two other guys who watched my drink being spiked and did dick about it. They’ll pay later, but for now, I have someone to see. “You two stay here and wait for my brother. Don’t fucking let him get into any shit, or it’s your heads.” I stroll out of the hotel and climb into the back of my SUV with Cesar driving and we make our way to the trailer park.
“Sebastian, we’ll be there shortly. Are we departing once we gather the young woman? I need to call the airport and have the pilot ready.”
“Yes. The second I have her, we’ll head to the airport.”
The entrance to the trailer park is lit up with emergency vehicles from EMS to the Fire and Police Departments, limiting entrance. It takes a few minutes longer; however, they let us in, but ask us to proceed with caution because there’s been a fire.
A sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I check my phone as we drive down the road, seeing the trailer numbers increasing and as we reach the blocked off area. The trailer that she’s supposed to be living in has been torched.
I sprint out of my vehicle, hardly allowing Cesar to stop just as they’re carrying a body under a sheet on a stretcher. Oh fucking God. “No, please tell me that’s not her,” I utter, swallowing hard.
“Sorry, sir, but do you know the woman?” I can’t take my eyes off the body they’re carrying away to address whoever is speaking. She was alive when she left before the sun rose and now it’s the afternoon and she’s gone.
“Please tell me it’s not Candy,” I state to myself, ignoring the men.
“No, sir.” It’s the first words I hear. I turn to the man in the coroner jumpsuit who is evaluating me.
“Who is she? Where is Candy?”
“We believe this is Sheila Bell, the owner of the trailer, unless Candy’s her show name that you know her by.”
I stare at the body as they prepare to put it in a bag. As they do, I see the bits of her blonde hair that aren’t charred and realize that it’s not Candy.
“No. I must have the wrong trailer. I’m looking for someone I met at the casino yesterday.”
“Sorry, buddy. Women like these lie about who they are all the time,” the coroner says. A police officer steps up to me and asks, “Do you know her?”
“No. I’m not from Vegas, and I’m just looking for her daughter, who I thought lived here.”
“Thankfully no one else was in the home at the time of the fire.” I’m surprised the guy’s not questioning me. Does this happen on the regular out here? “Do you know how to reach her?”
“No, we don’t. So if you contact her, please have her report to the local police station.”
I’m not allowed into the trailer yet, so I survey the area surrounding the burnt home because there’s no way in hell to determine if the spectators know anything about my missing Candy. Did someone steal her away when they killed her mother?
Almost ready to call it quits and find another avenue of locating her, I spot a bum sitting on a park bench, looking curiously this way. When I make eye contact with him, he fidgets and then turns.
He doesn’t smell like gasoline, but he smells of stale liquor and smoke. “Hey, buddy. Let me have a word with you.” He gets skittish, crawling backward, and dropping his precious booze. “Now why did you have to go and do that for? I just have some questions for you.”
Quickly, he reaches for the dropped bottle, but I snag it first and hold the remaining drops hostage. “I’m looking for the young lady who lived there. Did someone take her?”
“No…” His voice is weak as he watches his precious liquor, wondering if I’ll dump it.
“Listen. This could be to your benefit to give me the right answers.”
His eyes meet mine with fierce intent. “I don’t want you to hurt her. She’s a good girl. Not like that mother of hers,” he snarls, spitting toward the burnt-out trailer.
“Tell me where she is,” I insist because I don’t owe this man a damn thing but a chance to give me the answers I want before I lose my shit and do more than destroy his booze.
“I don’t know. She left this morning in the dark…before the fire.”