Dedication

 

For the times that we’ve shared, the good and the bad

For holding my hand, no matter how sad

For the roads that we’ve walked, and the paths yet to take

For the care that you’ve shown, that nothing can shake

For believing in me, when doubt held me down

For holding me up, not letting me drown

For dreams that came true, and those that still wait

For knowing my heart, and also my faith

For holding me close, to keep me alive

For trusting in me, and letting love thrive

For giving yourself, with nothing held back

For love so complete, where nothing can lack

For my wife, Letitia

I love you.

It is only through my wife’s help with editing,

ideas, opinions, and especially her support that this

book is even remotely possible. Thanks, Tish.

 

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Chapter 1

 

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     “If I find her, will you feed me?”

     I don’t think I’ll ever forget those haunting words.  Just as I know I’ll never forget…him. 

 

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     The first time I met him, I was working out of the FBI office in Atlanta.  Dusk was just beginning to settle as I escorted Mr. and Mrs. Holcomb out to their car.  Their daughter had been missing for several days now and I was trying to reassure them that we were doing everything possible to find her.  The truth is though, we had absolutely no idea where to continue looking.  So many girls go missing every year – permanently.  And already, this was looking like another one. 

     Mrs. Holcomb was understandably beside herself.  All the way out to the parking lot she argued that there must be something else we could do to find her daughter.  But what could I tell her?  The truth is that we were already doing everything possible.  What I didn’t say though, is that we had absolutely no leads at all.  Nothing.

     How he got there, I have no idea.  Why he found his way to that parking lot, I also have no idea.  But suddenly, there he was, looking like some kind of a monster in some grade B movie.  The sight of him was…disgusting!  The smell from him was just as bad. 

      “If I find her, will you feed me?”

     His voice was nasal and raspy, as if there was something wrong with his throat.  When I looked closer, I could see that his nose was bent permanently to the side.  I wondered if he could even breathe out of it.  He was missing all of his front teeth and his full grey beard was stringy and a mess.  His clothes…tatters!  And there was something about his eyes that spoke…insanity.  Another of the many homeless people in the city, only definitely one of the worst off.

     Mrs. Holcomb screamed a bit at the sight of him and I automatically reached toward my gun.  He should have run off, but he didn’t.  He just stood there and repeated his question.  “If I find her, will you feed me?”

      “Get lost!” I ordered as I pulled my gun into view to scare him away.  “Get out of here!  These people are upset enough.  They don’t need anyone like you around to make matters worse!”  But he didn’t run off.  He didn’t even back away.

      “I can find her.  I can.”

      “You can’t even find a toothbrush!” I argued and was about to tell him to go away again, but that was when Mrs. Holcomb stepped forward. 

      “How?” she asked.  “How can you find her?”  What surprised me was that she was clearly frightened of him, yet her need to find her daughter outweighed her fear.

     He held out his bare hands, and I almost puked at the sight of them.  It wasn’t just that they were filthy, they were so bent and gnarled that they could hardly be called hands.  “Touch me,” he said.

     Mrs. Holcomb drew back in fear and I didn’t blame her one bit.  I wouldn’t want to touch the creature before us either – with a ten foot pole!

     He lowered his hands, and his head.  “Don’t blame you,” he said sadly.  Then he lifted his head again and turned around.  He sat down right in the parking lot with his back to all of us.  “Put your hands on my back,” he said.

      “What the heck?” I yelled.  “Get lost, you bum!”

     He turned his head back toward us again.  “I can find her.  I promise!  Put your hands on my back.”

      “How is that supposed to help?” Mr. Holcomb asked, beating me to the question.

     The creature looked back up at him.  “I have no link to her.  You do,” was his only answer. 

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mr. Holcomb asked.

      “Don’t know her.  You’re related.  You have link.”

      “What link?”

      “What are you, some kind of psychic?” I asked.  “You can see the future?  No wonder you’re so down and out.  And obviously you’re no good at it if you’re this hard up.”

     He shook his head.  “Don’t see the future.  Not at all.  I only know I can find her.”

      “Get lost!” I yelled again, more fiercely this time.  Yet he never moved from his spot on the pavement. 

     He turned his head toward Mrs. Holcomb.  “What can it hurt?” he asked.  “Try.”

     Mrs. Holcomb looked to her husband.

      “He’s loony and just after money,” her husband argued.

      “Obviously!” I agreed.  “You don’t even want to consider this!”

     But her distress over her missing daughter was more than her fear.  “What can it really hurt?” she asked as she looked back and forth between us.

     I rolled my eyes and shook my head.  “Of all the dumb things….”

      “What can it hurt?” she asked again.

      “You can’t really be serious?” I said.

     Instead of answering, she handed her purse to her husband and approached the wretch of a figure in front of us.  “Put my hands on your back?” she asked.  “Nothing else?”

     He looked back at her and nodded.  “Touch me, and think about daughter.  Think hard.”

     I pointed my gun at the creature.  “You make one wrong move, and so help me, I’ll shoot you before you know what’s happened!”

     Mrs. Holcomb looked back at her husband one more time.  Then she reached out, tentatively, first with one hand and touched his back, then with the other.  I was definitely ready to jump in and kill the guy if he made the least little wrong move.  “Like this?” she asked him.

      “Harder, if you can,” he replied. 

     She stooped down so she could be lower and reach him better.  I saw her pressing a bit more firmly on his back.  “Like this?”  But he didn’t answer.  “What’s next?” she asked.  But still he didn’t answer. 

     I walked around in front of him and saw that his eyes were closed.  He looked almost peaceful.  “This is ridiculous…” I started to say.  But that was when he started speaking.

      “She’s in a car.  Passenger seat.  Boy is driving.  Black boy.”

     Mr. Holcomb looked up at me with an angry expression.  I couldn’t have agreed more. 

      “Is she alright?” Mrs. Holcomb asked. 

      “Yes,” the wretch answered.  “She is fine.”

      “Is she tied up in any way?” she asked. 

     I saw him shake his head a little.  “No.”  After a moment, he continued.  “Wearing short blue-jean cut-offs…stringy at bottom.  Blue and white check shirt.”

     Mrs. Holcomb seemed more excited now.  “Yes!  She has a shirt just like that!”

     I didn’t want to tell her that it sounded awfully vague to me.  Most girls probably have something just like it in their wardrobe. 

      “It’s lighter where she is than here.  Sun isn’t going down yet.”

     That was something I hadn’t expected.  Obviously the guy had a good imagination. 

      “I see…corn fields.  Nothing but corn fields.  Lots and lots of corn.”

     I wanted to add that most of the corn was in his delivery, but I kept silent.  The one thing I could see was that his words, as vague and as dumb as they were, were some kind of comfort to Mrs. Holcomb. 

      “Highway.  Rural.  Two lane.  Don’t see other cars yet.  No road sign yet.  Let you know.”

     Oh brother!  The guy was a real con artist for sure! 

      “The car is…red.  Older car.  I think…a muscle car.  Wide black stripe down the hood.”

     At that, Mrs. Holcomb turned back and looked straight at her husband.  There was something about the set of his face that disturbed me. 

     I started to ask a question, but the creature suddenly said, “Wait!  She’s talking.”

     Con artistry at its best was foremost on my mind.  Yet I wanted to follow up about the car thing.  There had been some recognition about that between the husband and his wife.  What came out of the creature’s mouth next was something I was totally unprepared for.  It took me a few moments to realize that he was repeating, supposedly, every little thing that was being said in the car, word for word.  Since he just kept speaking, it was hard to pick out what was being said by which person in the car.

      “Are we going to get somewhere soon?  I gotta’ pee again.  Shit!  You just went a few hours ago!  Tough shit Hank!  It’s been more than a few hours.  Besides, I’m getting hungry.  I want a snack.  Damn!  Oh, all right.  We need some more gas anyway.  Reaching down into big straw bag by her feet.  Gun!  Big gun!  We need some cash too!  Yeah, we could stand to get a little more of that too.  Putting gun back in bag.  All we need is someplace to stop!  I’m so sick of seeing nothing but farms.  There’ll be something…eventually.”

     He finally stopped talking and just sat there with is eyes closed.  If nothing else, the wretch was entertaining.  But that part about the girl having a gun, it just didn’t wash.  And I could especially see that the mother and father clearly didn’t believe it.  To put the icing on the cake and clearly show them that this guy was nuts, I asked the father quietly.  “She doesn’t know anyone named Hank, does she?”

     The father and mother passed discomforting looks back and forth, and I think I silently steeled myself for the bad answer. 

     He nodded.  “About six months ago, maybe a bit less, we had it out with her.  She had been running around constantly with a black boy named Hank.  But we forbid her to see him anymore.  Yeah, there were a few tears and some drama, but she didn’t see him anymore…as far as I know.”

     His words were not exactly what I wanted to hear.  “And…does this Hank…have a car like that?”

     He nodded.  “Just like that.”

     Shit!

      “Sign up ahead.  Little sign.”  The creature said.  We all waited.  “Shaped like…shield.  Number 56 in it.  Could be State highway or something.”

     Or something, my skeptical mind repeated silently.  But he had shook me a bit by pulling Hank out of the air, imagined or not. 

      “Another sign ahead.  Gas station.  And store.  Bill’s Highway Spot.”

     It was hard to tell exactly what he was talking about half the time, since he was obviously trying to give us the rundown of what he was “supposedly” seeing, as well as exactly what the two kids in the car were saying – all at the same time.

      “Hey, there’s a place.  Yeah, I see it.  You better stop!  Don’t worry.  Like I told you, we need gas too.  You go in and go to the bathroom while I pump some gas.  Give the guy at the counter a twenty to keep him happy before you go take a leak.  Then let me take a piss before you pull that gun out!  Ha!  Poor little Hanky has to go too?  Damn straight!  Don’t worry.  You know I can do this.”

     That was when Mrs. Holcomb took her hands off of his back and stood up again.  “I can’t listen to this anymore.  You’re wrong!  You’re dead wrong!  My daughter would never do the things you’re saying.  You’re nothing but a big fat…”  But her anger didn’t let her finish.  And I could clearly see that Mr. Holcomb felt exactly the same way.

      “Haven’t figured out where she is yet,” the creature complained. 

     But Mr. Holcomb pulled his wife away.  “We’re not listening to any more of this shit!”  He turned to me.  “Please let us know the minute you find anything, Agent McNair!”

     I nodded.  “Of course!  You know I will.”

     He bundled his wife into the car as quickly as he could.  A minute later, he practically roared out of the parking lot.  The wretch had gotten to his feet and was limping away.  I noticed that his legs appeared to be twisted a bit and that walking was difficult for him…or at least appeared to be.  I wasn’t sure just how much of it might be an act.  “And stay away!” I shouted after him. 

     He turned slightly back to me.  “Could have found her.  I was there.  Saw what I saw.”

      “You saw…nothing, you bum!” 

     He shook his head sadly.  “Wasn’t going to feed me anyway.”

     I watched him for a few more moments before going back inside.  It was late and I was ready to head home for the day.  So were the last two members of my team who had stayed behind and were waiting for me upstairs. 

     When I got back to the office, I could see that both Hannah and Billy were ready to leave.  And just because I had nothing better to say to either of them, I turned to Hannah and said, “Do me a favor.  When you come in tomorrow, see if you can find anything on a black dude named Hank.  Evidently he used to be one of the girl’s boyfriends a while back.  And if you find him, find out what kind of car he drives.  Especially if it’s a red muscle car with a black stripe down the hood.”

     Hannah looked at me with some surprise.  “Why didn’t we hear about this before?”

     I shook my head.  “Heaven only knows.”

      “You get a tip?” Billy asked. 

     A tip?  How could I call any of what had just happened a tip?  I shook my head.  “No, just something I…overheard.  And Billy, while Hannah’s checking out the boyfriend, see if there’s any place called ‘Bill’s Highway Spot’ along a highway 56, somewhere near some corn fields.”

      “Bill’s Highway Spot?  What’s that got to do with this case?”

     How could I honestly answer that?  In fact, the whole request was a total shot in the dark.  But desperate is desperate!  “Probably nothing.  In fact, most likely nothing at all!  But check it anyway.  Humor me.”

      “No problem.  You got it,” Billy replied brightly as he grabbed a notepad and wrote something down.

     I almost told Billy to forget it.  There was no way I was going to place any credence in anything that dirty bum had said.  But he had pulled Hank’s name out of thin air.  Maybe asking Billy to check it out was my way of proving just how wrong the bum had been.  Besides, like I said, we were desperate for any kind of lead.

 

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     While Billy and Hannah went home to their families, I went home to my cheap apartment and put a TV dinner in the oven.  I had been divorced for two years now and had never bothered to move into anything nicer.  I hadn’t even bothered to fix my place up.  I had the basic furniture, all battered and used, but comfortable.  And I had a bed.  What more did a guy like me need? 

     I also had a daughter named Shelly who recently turned six.  But like her mother, I rarely ever saw her.  They now lived up in Connecticut, where it snows in the winter.  Heck, we get snow here in Atlanta – at least every once in a blue moon.  Sometimes more often! 

     As I waited for my dinner to cook, I went to the bathroom to splash some water over my face, with the intention of trying to clear the disturbing cobwebs from my mind.  It didn’t work. When I looked up into the mirror, I was still haunted by images of, “The Creature from the Parking Lot!”  Whew, I could never imagine anyone being that much of a mess!  How did anyone get into the kind of shape he was in?  It was a puzzling question that I couldn’t get off my mind.

     As I stared into the mirror, my mind tried to compare my simple features with the bum that I couldn’t seem to forget.  My neatly trimmed, dark brown hair was nothing at all like the long stringy gray mess covering that creature’s head and face.  Even after a long day, my clean-shaven face held only a faint sign of a five o’clock shadow.  It was hard to not feel good about the way you looked when you compared yourself with anything that twisted and battered.  Not that I considered myself all that good looking, but compared to him, I was a virtual movie star.

     I tore my gaze away from the mirror to go back and check on my dinner.  The truth was, I had always considered myself to be the most average guy on the planet.  At five foot ten, I wasn’t exactly small and scrawny, but I had towered over his bent and twisted frame.  And while I wasn’t exactly big and muscular, compared to him I looked like a fitness guru.  The truth is, there was simply no way to compare myself to him.  He was plagued with far too many problems to count, while I was…average.  Simply average.  But being so average was a trait that had helped me many times earlier in my career when I had gone undercover working narcotics instead of missing persons.

     As I sat down with my TV dinner on my battered old couch in front of my nice new TV set, I looked around my messy, dingy apartment.  “Way to go, Clifford McNair,” I berated myself. “The way you live isn’t much better than that bum today!”  But as usual, I never got up the energy to do anything about it.

 

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     Don Wimberly, my immediate boss, liked to start his days with a morning meeting to make sure he was caught up on everyone’s business.  It’s not that I minded so much, but there were better things I could be doing with my time than listening to cases that had nothing to do with me.  Rarely did I ever have anything to say in those little meetings, but that morning I tossed out that we had gotten a lead on an old boyfriend in the Holcomb case the night before and were in the process of checking on it. 

     After the meeting, I walked back to our offices with John Thomas, my equal, who shared the other “inner” office in our shared room.  John and I had worked with each other for six years now and I couldn’t remember a single time we had ever clashed.  In fact, we both often sat across from each other’s desk and bounced ideas off the wall.  The fact that we “shared” the six agents in the outer office never once had been an issue.  Although there were two that worked more often exclusively for me, and John had a few that he leaned on mostly as well.  Hannah Montrose and Billy Waincross were my two.  Darla Cunningham and Brent Foster worked more often with John.  Charlie Whitmore and Ben Wortham  were our two youngest and newest agents.  We pretty much shared their use equally, often sending them on errands the others would rather not be bothered with.

      “When I left last night,” John said as we walked the halls, “I wasn’t aware that the Holcomb’s had mentioned anything about another boyfriend.”

      “I didn’t get that till I was out in the parking lot with them.  We’re going to check on it, but trust me, this one’s like grasping at straws – where they don’t exist!”

     He grunted.  He knew exactly what I meant.  So many of the leads we chased down were nothing more than that.

     I had barely gotten to my desk when Billy barged into my office.  “Took me about five minutes to find your ‘Bill’s Highway Spot’,” he told me.  “Kansas.  Definitely in the middle of some corn fields.  And you know that car you mentioned?  They had a robbery there last night.  Black guy and a white girl.  Report says they were driving a red car with a black stripe.  So what’s up?”

     And that was when Hanna appeared at my desk too.  “Boss…that Hank character you asked about last night has to be Hank Petrone.  I already talked to one person who says he and the Holcomb girl used to be really big on each other.  I’m still trying to find someone who’s seen him recently though.  And he drives an old Ford Torino.  Hopped up.  Red with a black stripe like you mentioned.

     I stared from one to the other.  “Crap!”  I looked to Billy.  “Tell me the girl in the robbery was wearing a blue and white checked shirt.”

     He looked down at the papers in his hand.  “Girl…denim shorts and a blue shirt.”

     I cursed again as I got up from my desk to pace behind it for a moment.  “See if there’s any surveillance video of that robbery.  If so, I want it here like yesterday!  All of it!”  I stopped my nervous pacing and faced them.  I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask.  “Where do we find bums in this city?”

      “You got to be kidding!” Hanna replied.  “Bums?  For what?”

      “You don’t want to know!” I told her.  “In fact, I know – and I don’t want to know!”

     It took me three phone calls to three different police precincts before I found someone who knew him. 

      “Pariah!” the desk sergeant told me before I had gotten half-way through my description of the wretch.

      “Yeah, he certainly is,” I replied. 

      “No,” the guy replied.  “That’s his name, or at least what he calls himself.  I don’t remember his real name.  As far as I know, he harmless.  Why?”

      “He ever try to pull any kind of scams or cons on anyone?  Or has he ever claimed to be a psychic or something?”

      “Not as far as I know,” the sergeant replied.  “You want me to pick him up?”

      “No, just tell me where I can find him.”

      “I have no idea, but I’ll ask some of the guys and see if I can get an answer for you.”

      “Thanks!” I replied.  “And the sooner, the better!”

 

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     We got halfway lucky with the video surveillance.  We got film outside showing the car and the guy pumping gas, and we got video inside showing both the guy and the girl holding a gun on the cashier, but the video was so grainy and the angle of both was from so high up, we couldn’t get any real details.  Especially since they both wore big sunglasses and the girl had a wide brimmed hat on.  There was no way we could see her well enough to tell if she was the girl we were looking for or not.  We couldn’t even see the license plate on the car.  Still, the details seemed to match. 

     I had Billy put out an APB on the car with Hank Petrone’s license tag.  We also put out a warning that both the driver and his passenger could be armed.  We were fairly confident that we’d hear something on the car soon.  At least we hoped we would.

     While we waited, we debated whether to bring in the mother to see if she could ID the girl from the video, but we finally decided against it.  There was no use putting her through something so traumatic.  Especially when we couldn’t tell anything from what we saw ourselves.

 

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     I didn’t get a call about the Pariah wretch until late in the afternoon, just before we were getting ready to leave.  The call came from a police officer who worked the downtown district. 

      “Agent McNair?”

      “That’s me.”

      “The sergeant says you want to know about Pariah.”

      “Yeah.  Anything you can tell me.”

      “What’s he done?  As far as I know, the only thing he’s ever done before is to make a nuisance of himself trying to get food.”

      “Sounds about right,” I replied.  “Most likely, that’s what this is all about.  But there’s an off chance he may have some information about a missing girl case we’re working on.”

      “Him?  I doubt it.  But you never know.  So what can I tell you?”

      “Where can I find him?  He showed up here last night in the parking lot.”

      “Way out there?  What the heck was he doing up where you are?  That’s not his usual territory.”

      “So I guessed.”

      “Most of the time we hear about him, he’s making a nuisance of himself at the back door of the restaurants in the middle of town.  Check the back alleys and behind the buildings.  He doesn’t make an appearance much out where most people can see him.”

      “I wonder why?” I mocked.

      “Yeah!  For sure!  The guy’s a sight if I ever saw one.  Listen, I’m going off duty right now, but you want me to have the guys pick him up tonight if they see him?  Or if it can wait till tomorrow, I’ll try to find him myself.  I got to tell you though, finding him may not be that easy.”

     I thought about it again, but really, what could we gain from picking him up?  “No.  Don’t bother.  This is all probably nothing anyway.”

     And that was when Billy charged back into my office again.  I said a quick thanks and hung up the phone.

      “Boss, that robbery in Kansas last night?  That wasn’t the only one they pulled.  I found three others in the last two days alone, stretched between here and there.  Looks like it’s always the same kind of shit they’re pullin’.”

     I was surprised…but I wasn’t.  “Okay, check to see if we can get any better info from any of those places. Especially video!  I want to know for sure that it’s the Holcomb girl before we jump on any of this.”

      “You got it!” he replied.  “You want me to work late tonight?”

      “No.  Just put the requests out and we’ll sift through whatever we get tomorrow.”

 

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     When you’re working on a missing girl case, you seem to get requests filled faster than usual.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, that was the case here.  The following morning, Hannah, Billy, and myself all gathered around Billy’s computer to watch the videos.  And right from the first one, there was no doubt in my mind at all that we were watching the Holcomb girl rob another convenience store.  One of the other videos only confirmed what the first one had told us. 

     I dreaded making the call, but there was no way I couldn’t.  We had to get the girl’s parents in to verify that we were looking at their daughter.

     We didn’t pull any punches, but I did warn them on the phone about what they were going to be looking at.  I warned them again as soon as they got here.  I could clearly see they didn’t want to believe me that their daughter would do such a thing.  I couldn’t blame them.  If it was me, I wouldn’t believe it either.  I was just grateful they agreed to come in and see what we had.  Five seconds into the first video, I could tell by the set of both their faces that we were looking at their daughter. 

      “There’s got to be a mistake!” the mother said.  “She had to have been coerced.  Forced to do that!”

      “There’s no way my daughter would rob anyone…willingly!” the father added.

     I went with it.  “That’s possible.  We don’t know yet.  Right now, we just need to find them.  After that, we can get the real story.”

      “This all came about, because of that…creature?” Mrs. Holcomb asked.

     I shrugged.  “The big lead was the boyfriend,” I suggested instead, trying to throw the light on information other than what the bum had told us.

      “But it fits with everything he said,” she countered. 

     I nodded and agreed.  “So far.”

      “Was there a video from that place he mentioned in the parking lot?”

     Reluctantly, I nodded again.  “Billy, bring up the first videos we got.  The ones from Kansas.” 

     They both watched the videos from Kansas all the way through without saying a word.  “Why didn’t you call me when you got this?” she asked.

      “As you can see, there was no way to identify your daughter in them.  Her face is hidden all the time.”

      “What are you doing to find her now?” Mr. Holcomb asked. 

      “We’re looking for the car now.  It’s just a matter of time.”

      “It’s taken way too long already!” he replied. 

     I had to agree.  For now, the case still belonged to us, but it was starting to look more and more like a case for Robbery instead.  “We’ll find them,” I assured them.  “It’s only a matter of time.”

     Mrs. Holcomb looked at me, and her wide open eyes warned me of what she was about to ask.  And I dreaded it.  “Couldn’t we find her faster if we ask that…creature?  The sooner we find my daughter, the sooner we can stop her from being forced to do things she would never do!”

     But finding that bum was the last thing I wanted to do.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I replied.  “And believe me, it’s just a matter of time now until we spot the car.  We’ll let you know the minute we find them.  I promise!”

     But she wasn’t backing down.  “Agent McNair, I want to find my daughter.  You said you’re doing everything possible.  But isn’t asking that…man, part of everything possible?  He told us exactly what was happening with her the other night.  And even though I don’t like it, it seems he was exactly right.  Maybe he can help us find her faster!”

     I would have argued with her, but after questioning as many people as I have in my career, you know when it will do no good.  “We don’t even know where to find him,” I countered.  “We know nothing about him.”

      “Well, you’re the damn FBI!” she returned vehemently.  “You’re supposed to be able to find people!  Although to me, it looks like you’re not very good at it!” 

     As soon as she walked out, both Billy and Hannah looked at me questioningly.  “What’s up?” Billy asked.  “This have anything to do with you asking where to find bums yesterday?”

     I hadn’t told them because I was hoping the crazy wretch would be wrong.  But so far, he had proven to be nothing but right.  So I pulled them both into my office and closed the door – and swore them both to secrecy.  This wasn’t the kind of thing I wanted anyone else to know about.  It was embarrassing enough that I was even considering finding the damn wretch now.

     As soon as a bewildered Hannah and Billy left my office, I called the same police sergeant I had talked to before and asked him to have his guys find the homeless wretch.  Pariah, he kept insisting was the guy’s name.  Or at least, that’s what it seemed everyone called the bum.  Pariah.  And I couldn’t think of a more fitting name for the creature.

 

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     For the rest of the day I wondered who would be found first, the girl and her boyfriend, or would the police downtown find the Pariah.  I was really hoping it would be the girl and her boyfriend.  I was still hoping the same thing when I pulled another TV dinner out of the microwave and sat down to eat it in front of the TV.  I had just barely started eating when my cell phone interrupted me. 

      “Agent McNair?” the voice on the other end asked.

      “That’s me.  What can I do for you?”

      “We found Pariah for you.  You want to come down and get him?  Or if you like, I can bring him straight up to you.  To tell the truth, we don’t really want him in our jail.”

      “You know where our offices are?” I asked.

      “No problem.  I can have him there in twenty minutes.  Probably less since he’s being such a pain in the ass – as usual.”

      “As usual?”

      “See you in a few minutes,” he replied.

     I wondered what “as usual” meant as I phoned Billy and asked him to come in for a few hours.  I didn’t call Hannah because she preferred spending the evenings with her family whenever possible.  Billy didn’t seem to care as much.

     Then, against my better judgment, I phoned the Holcombs and told them that the police had found the bum and were bringing him in.  The rest of my TV dinner got left in its tray, forgotten.

 

--- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

 

     I was glad that the squad car pulled up in front of the building before the Holcombs arrived.  The policeman got out of the car and came around to open the back door for me.  I’d rather he hadn’t.  The wretch was far more wretched than he had been two nights ago.  He was handcuffed to a ring on the floor of the car and was whining pitifully. 

      “I didn’t do it!  I didn’t do it!” he kept crying.  “Please!  It wasn’t me!  I didn’t do it!” 

      “Didn’t do what?” I asked, but I didn’t get an answer before the policeman leaned in and freed the bum.  He got out of the car nervously and fell to his knees in front of me – a scared rabbit, never taking his eyes off of me.  Still crying, still whining the same words over and over again.  “I didn’t do it.  It wasn’t me.  I didn’t do it.”

      “He’s all yours!” the policeman said with a smirk.  He got into his car quickly and drove off just as fast, obviously glad to be rid of the bum.  I didn’t blame him.  But now, what was I going to do with him?

      “I didn’t do it!” the bum kept insisting. 

      “I didn’t say you did,” I replied as I knelt down in front of him.  “Do you remember me?” I asked, trying to sound at least a little bit kind.  “We met here in the parking lot two nights ago.  You asked the woman to touch your back and said you could find her daughter.”

     He stopped whining his pitiful song and I could see a light of recognition in his eyes.  “The girl.  You found her.  Was she where I said?”

     I was saved from answering by Billy walking up.  “Holy crap!  This is the guy you told us about?”

     I didn’t feel like an answer was needed.  “Let’s get him upstairs before the Holcombs arrive,” I suggested as I stood up again.

      “I didn’t do it!  I didn’t do it!” he insisted again.  Fear seemed to be his biggest problem once again.

      “Didn’t do what?” Billy asked.

      “It wasn’t me!  It wasn’t me.  I didn’t do it!?”

      “I haven’t found out what he didn’t do yet,” I replied.  “And frankly, I don’t think I care.”  As I started to walk off, I heard a horrible scream from the creature that made me turn around quickly.

      “I’m just trying to cuff him,” Billy said as he fought to catch the wretch’s arm.  One end of his cuffs was already attached to one of his wrists. 

      “Don’t bother,” I said.  “Take them off.”  I walked back to the wretched bum.  I did my best to sound kind again – which wasn’t all that easy.  “We’d like your help again,” I told him.  “We’d just like your help.  Like you did the other night.  Can you do that?  Please?  That’s all we want.”

     He stopped whining and stared up at me with wide eyes.  Eyes that didn’t exactly look sane – at all!  “If I find her, will you feed me?” he asked, just as he had asked the Holcombs the other night.

     What could I say?  “Sure,” I replied.  “Sure!”  Although finding him food was the last thing on my mind.

     I was happy to see the creature climb to his feet.  Slowly and painfully he walked next to Billy toward the building.  But it seemed to take him a moment to find the courage to cross over the threshold and actually enter.  His head kept turning all around as we walked through the lobby.  He looked like a hunted creature watching out for the animals he knew would devour him very soon.  Getting into the elevator and up to our floor seemed to be particularly difficult for him, but he came. 

      “If I find her, will you feed me?” he asked several times. 

      “I said I would!” I replied – several times.  To shut him up, I sent Billy to the vending machine with a couple of dollars to buy him some candy bars while we waited on the Holcombs.  The moment Billy got back and handed them to him, he went crazy trying to rip the packaging off with those gnarled fingers of his that didn’t seem to work very well.  Billy finally had to do it for him.  And then he couldn’t get the candy into his mouth fast enough.  There was a look of pure relief on his face the moment he started chewing.  The bum was hungry.  Really hungry!  I didn’t have a doubt about that in the world.

     By the time the Holcombs arrived, the look of total insanity was somewhat diminished from the bums eyes.  He still didn’t look sane, but there was a definite improvement.  He looked up directly at Mrs. Holcomb before she had a chance to say anything and asked his same question.  “If I find her, will you feed me?”

     She looked at me and I shrugged.  “We just gave him some candy bars,” I told her. 

     She looked back at him.  “Of course,” she said.  “That’s what you asked the other night.  If we find her, I’ll see that you get something to eat.”

     The wretch closed his eyes and bowed his head.  “Thank you,” he muttered softly.  Then he stood up and turned his back to her.  “Put your hands on my back, like before,” he said.  “Think of your daughter.  Think hard.”

     I said nothing.  Billy and I just stood back and let the drama unfold in front of us.

      “Wouldn’t you rather sit down?” Mrs. Holcomb asked as she set her purse on the nearby table – well out of his reach. 

     He turned around and looked shocked.  “Thank you,” he replied as if it was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him.  Maybe it was.  He pulled the chair out and turned it around so the back was to her, and he sat down again. 

     Mrs. Holcomb hesitated again, but only for a moment.  With one final look at her husband for support, she pressed first one hand to his back, then the other.  Knowing now what was going to happen, I ran to my desk and pulled a mini recorder out of it.  I just barely got it turned on before he started talking.

      “In bed together.  Room not dark.  They’re…Oh!  I…They’re…” 

     He looked up at me.  It was something I hadn’t expected.  “Are they having sex?” I asked. 

     He seemed relieved as he nodded.  “Don’t want to talk about it.  Don’t want to watch.”

     Game over!  I was actually relieved.  “Well,” I said to Mrs. Holcomb, “we tried.”  I was about to tell her that it was a bad idea anyway, when the darn wretch began to speak again.

      “I guess…” he said, “Could try to find where they are.  Would that help?”

     Oh gee!  But Mrs. Holcomb beat me to it.  “Yes!  That’s what we really need to know!”

     He seemed to nod, then bowed his head again.  Mrs. Holcomb’s hands were still on his back.

      “Hotel room.  They’re still….  The door!  Sign on door.  Framed.  Tiny print.  Says…oh, talks about room rates.   Going outside.  Look around.”

      “You can do that?” I asked.

      “Motel.  Not many cars.  Sign says Motel Six.  Number twelve on door.”

      “Where is it?” Mrs. Holcomb asked.

      “Don’t know yet.  Need to look around more.”

      “Do you see any corn fields?” I asked mockingly.

      “No.  None that I can see from where I am.  See motel lobby.  Going in.”

     If this was a con guy, he was suddenly opening up a whole new bag of tricks.

      “Not much,” he said after a few moments.  “Wait!  Letters on the desk.  Motel Six, Boise City, Oklahoma.”

      “Boise?” Mrs. Holcomb asked.  “What are they doing out there?”

     I suddenly saw Billy run off to his desk. 

      “Going back to room,” the wretch said.  A few minutes later, he added.  They’re still…you know.”  He looked up at us then.  “Can’t watch what they’re doing!”

     Mrs. Holcomb took her hands off of him.  “So they’re at a Motel Six in Boise City?”

     The wretch nodded. 

      “Boss!” Billy called as he ran back.  Highway fifty six goes straight into Boise City.  And there is a Motel Six there!”

     I silently cursed to myself.  I wanted so badly for this wretched bum to be wrong.  “Okay, call Boise.  Ask them to be polite about it, but let’s see who’s in room twelve.  And warn them to be careful just in case!  There’s a good chance they have a gun.”

     While we waited, mostly silently, the wretch seemed to ignore us completely as he happily worked on the candy we had given him earlier.  Watching him trying to eat it was almost as disgusting as he was.  With no front teeth, he either tried to stuff the whole bars into his mouth at once, or he tried to break them with his hands – which seemed to be very difficult for him.

     The phone rang and I answered it.  A few minutes later, I hung up again.  “They got them, your daughter and her friend.  The police there are taking them into custody for now.  We have agents in Oklahoma who will get them for us in the morning.”

     Mrs. Holcomb looked relieved.  “It’s definitely her?”

      “Without a doubt.”

      “Can I talk to her?  I really need to talk to her!”

      “We can probably arrange that later, but it’s going to be a little while.”  I didn’t want to mention that she was being arrested and booked first on a number of robbery charges.

     And then the creature was there again.  “I found her.  Will you feed me?”

     We were all somewhat taken aback.  “I don’t have any food on me right now,” Mrs. Holcomb apologized. 

      “Wait a minute,” Mr. Holcomb said.  He pulled out his wallet and started pulling out bills.

      “No!” the creature said, holding his gnarled hands up as if to ward off something bad.  “No money!  Can’t take money!  Food!  I need food!”

      “But you can buy food,” Mr. Holcomb insisted.

      “No money!  Can’t use money.  Can’t take money!”

      “Why not?”

      “Can’t take money for finding someone.  Not right!” He replied. 

     In a night full of surprises, this was just one more.  “But you can take food?” I asked.

      “I’m hungry.  Very hungry!’ he insisted.  “Will you feed me?”

      “Suppose we just give you the money, out of kindness,” Mr. Holcomb suggested.

      “Can’t take money!” the wretch suggested.  “Can’t spend it.  Others just steal it.  Always!”

      “What do you mean you can’t spend it?” I asked.  “It’s money.  Good old American money!”

     He shook his head.  “Can’t go into stores.  Don’t want me.  Won’t let me.”

     I had a better understanding all of a sudden.  Heck, I still didn’t want to be in the same room with him. 

      “I don’t have any food with me right now,” Mrs. Holcomb said again. 

     He hung his head sadly.  “I thought so,” he muttered.  He looked up at me.  “Can I go now?”

     I nodded.  “Yeah, sure.  Thanks for helping us.”

     He ignored us and shuffled his way painfully out the door.  Billy “thoughtfully” escorted him out of the building.

     As he left, I felt nothing but sorry for the man.  But at the same time, I was glad he was gone.  And I was glad I’d never have to see him again.

     Oh how wrong I was!