Key West Gone into the Night Elizabeth Hilleren (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📖

statistics get grim. Well, they’re grim. I want my son back, and I’m afraid they have given up on finding them, ” he said, his voice rising with each word.

“You think those people really read the ads? You think they can even read?”

         “You never know,” he said.

“How will they contact you?”

“Call my room or my cell.”

“Carl, you told them where we’re staying?”

“Yeah.  You got a better idea?”

“You are becoming dangerously stupid,” she said with a disgusted look.

“Shut up. Go get another room if you don’t want to be near me.”

“I will. But first, let’s eat.”  She turned and headed out the door.

“Wait,” Carl caught her arm gently. “Look, let’s go get a beer and relax. It’s a long shot, I know, to put the ad in the paper…”

Stephanie let out a long sigh. “All right, I could use a drink myself.”

*    *    *

Harris sat down at a table in the Hog’s Breath Bar and ordered a sandwich and a beer. He was looking though his notes from his search of Susan’s house when a familiar voice spoke behind him.

“Well, this is perfect. You and a beer.”

Harris turned to see Stephanie and Carl behind him.

“What do you want?” Harris said, closing his notes and trying to sound pleasant.

“I see you’re working hard,” Carl said, sarcastically. “You’re everything that Stephanie said you were.”

“I’m on bereavement leave and I’m having lunch. Get lost.”

Carl stepped forward. “Hey,” he said, loudly. “Listen, you deadbeat.”

Harris stood and went chest to chest with Carl. “No, now you listen. You’re disturbing my lunch.” Carl backed up and then started forward. Carl’s eyes went wild. Harris grabbed a glass of ice water off the table and tossed it in Carl’s face.

“Chill or I’ll call my buddies at KWPD.”

Harris saw the punch coming and deflected it.  The bartender came over. “Hey, guys, take it outside or I’ll call the cops.”

“I am a cop,” Harris said. “I’m off duty and this guy is hassling me.”

“Out of here, fella,” he said to Carl who glared, turned toward the door, and walked out.

“Sorry, officer.”

“Thanks. It happens. I think I’ll just pay my tab and take my sandwich home.”

“I’ll wrap it up for you.”

“Thanks.” He threw a ten on the table and waved to the waitress.  She smiled and waved back.

Harris was on his way back home from the Hog’s Breath when his phone rang.

“Harris,” the familiar voice of the Chief said. “I understand that you spoke to your son-in-law. You’re on bereavement leave and you’re not to involve yourself in the investigation.”

“He just confronted me at the restaurant. Who called you?”

There was a pause, then, “Your ex-wife. Look, I understand the position you’re in, but I need you to stay out of this.”

“I have hired an investigator and a private eye. I have that right.”

“You have that right, but I can’t stress enough that you can’t go out on your own and track people.”

“Got it. Thanks for understanding. I won’t let you down.”

“I know, Harris. I just don’t want to have to involve the law.”

“I understand. Thanks.”

“You take care now.  Debbie and I have you in our prayers.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

The phone went dead.

*    *    *

Harris had a couple of hours before he was to pick up Amy from the hospital, so he went down and picked up tickets for the dinner sunset cruise.

He lay down, set the alarm, and drifted off into a restless sleep.

He was awakened by his home phone. “Yeah, Harris here.”

“Detective Harris?” A soft man’s voice said.

“Yeah.” He wiped his eyes and tried to figure out who he was talking to.

“Who is this?” he demanded.

“I need to see you. My name is Javier Trujillo. I’ll pick you up in five minutes at your backdoor.”

Javier Trujillo parked on the street behind Harris’s house.

Harris saw him coming through the gate and met him.

“Come with me, detective. My car is in the alley.”

Harris followed the young man to a dark blue sedan and got into the front passenger seat.

“What’s this all about?” Harris said, buckling his seatbelt. “You know that every cop in town is looking for you?”

“I suspected as much, but I need your help.”

“You kill my daughter Susan?”

“No, of course not. I would never physically harm her.”

His eyes were on the road and they were heading for Roosevelt Boulevard. Harris didn’t find it hard to see why Susan might have fallen hard for this handsome young man. Black hair, hazel eyes and attractive features. He followed the road until they crossed over the water to Stock Island. Neither of them was speaking.  Javier drove around to the far side of the island and then pulled into a driveway surrounded by bushes and ferns and pushed the button to open the garage.

Harris opened the car door and got out, pulling his gun from his holster.

Javier emerged from the car, looked over the car roof at Harris, and gasped.

“No, please don’t kill me,” Javier pleaded.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t? And don’t think twice about pulling anything because I won’t,” Harris said in a deadly, low voice. His eyes held the terrified eyes of Javier.

“Now, walk slowly around the car and open the door to the house. Oh, and close the garage door.”

Javier did so, slowly, and walked to the door. Opening the door, he walked across the kitchen and turned towards Harris.

“You got some coffee?” Harris said.

“Yes, in the cupboard, on the left.” He pointed to the cupboard next to the refrigerator.

“Good. Sit.”

Javier sunk into one of the kitchen chairs while Harris made coffee.

“Here,” he said putting a glass of water down in front of the young man. He then sat