Missing (34 page)

 
He'd tried to let it go, telling himself that it was just part of life, and that he and Wes had moved in separate directions, but he couldn't. Finally he requested a short leave of absence so he could head for Miami. He needed to see Wes one more time—just to satisfy himself that everything possible had been done for his best friend.

 
Now Charlie left his uniform behind and, with Aaron Clancy's address in hand, arrived in Miami before noon, checked into a hotel and caught a cab. The first sign that all was not as it should be was when he arrived at the address.

 
The apartment building was in a less-than-desirable part of the city. The concrete around the area was covered in graffiti. The turquoise paint on the building was peeling off the outer walls, and there were bars on the windows.

 
"Wait here," he told the cabbie.

 
"Yes, sir... I will wait," the driver said, but he took care to lock himself in as Charlie exited the cab.

 
Charlie couldn't bear to think of Wes in a place like this and hoped that looks were deceiving. But when he got inside, the size of the cockroaches running up the walls was not encouraging. He checked the address one more time, then started up to the fourth floor, looking for 413.

 
Somewhere on the second floor, a baby was crying and a woman was screaming to someone else in Spanish. He sidestepped a yellow tomcat sitting on the stairs and got hissed at for his trouble before making it up to the fourth floor. Since it was still before noon on a Saturday, he was counting on Aaron having slept in and not being at work.

 
Once at the landing, he took a right turn and went four doors down before coming to 413. The scent of urine and cooking odors was stronger up here, and he'd already decided to beat the hell out of Aaron Clancy on general principles, and if Wes wasn't okay... Already pissed, he made a fist and hammered on the door.

 
At first, there was no answer.

 
He hammered on the door again, and as he did, someone down the hall opened a door and yelled at him to be quiet. His response to the request was to beat on the door again, this time adding his voice to the noise.

 
"Aaron! Aaron Clancy!"

 
Finally he heard life behind the door as someone began cursing. Seconds later the door swung inward.

 
Charlie glowered at the whisker-faced, shaggy-haired man.

 
"Are you Aaron Clancy?"

 
"Who the fuck wants to know?"

 
"Wes Holden's best friend, that's who."

 
He pushed his way past Aaron and strode into the apartment. Immediately, his nostrils flared. The stench in here was worse than out in the hall, but he wasn't as concerned with Clancy's housekeeping skills as he was by the fact that there was no sign of Wes in this place. He turned around, fixing Clancy with a look that made the man's gut tighten.

 
"Where is he?" Charlie asked.

 
"Who? Where's who?" Aaron asked.

 
Charlie jabbed a finger hard against Aaron's chest. "You know who I mean. Where's Wes?"

 
Aaron shuddered. He'd gotten fired less than a week after Wes's disappearance and had been living high on Wes's money ever since. He'd made no attempt to find another job, but it looked like that was about to change.

 
"He's, uh... I had him put in a...a...hospital."

 
"Where? What's the phone number? I want to talk to his doctor. Now."

 
Aaron's mind was reeling. If he could just get this man out of his apartment, he would have time to make a getaway before he figured out he'd been duped.

 
"I don't have a phone number.. .just the name and address of the place."

 
“Tell me," Charlie said.

 
Aaron took a deep breath, and, as his daddy used to say, pulled a name out of his ass.

 
“Ten Palms Sanitarium on Sepulveda. Here, I'll write it down for you."

 
"Don't bother," Charlie said. "I'll call Information and get directions."

 
To Clancy's horror, Charlie strolled over to his phone and dialed Information.

 
"Operator...how may I help you?"

 
"I need a listing in Miami, Florida, for Ten Palms Sanitarium. I believe it's on Sepulveda."

 
Aaron began pulling on his jeans and looking for his shirt. He found one he'd worn a few days earlier and pulled it over his head, then put on his socks and shoes. When he reached for the doorknob, Charlie turned and pointed.

 
It was only his finger that Charlie pointed with, but it might as well have been a gun. Aaron knew he couldn't outrun him, and he couldn't beat him in a fair fight. What he needed was a weapon, but the only thing within reach was a throw pillow.

 
As Charlie waited, the operator came back on the line. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have a listing for Ten Palms on Sepulveda or anywhere else in Miami."

 
"Thank you, operator," Charlie said, and carefully replaced the receiver. Then he smiled at Aaron.

 
Aaron began to relax. If the man was smiling, that must mean he was happy.

 
"You lying, sorry-ass son of a bitch, what have you done with my friend?"

 
Aaron groaned. People shouldn't be allowed to smile unless they meant it. He backed up, but not far enough. Suddenly the man had him around the throat, then slammed him against the door.

 
"Talk. And you better not lie to me again, you little bastard, or I will cut you in to tiny little pieces and flush your sorry ass down the toilet."

 
"I don't know where he is," Aaron said.

 
Charlie tightened his grip on Aaron's throat.

 
"It's true!" Aaron squealed, and began trying to pull free. "I swear. I went to work one day, and when I came home, he was gone."

 
"Are you telling me the truth?"

 
"Yes! Yes! I swear!" Aaron cried.

 
"What did the police say? Do they have any leads?"

 
Aaron began to whimper.

 
"Please...please let me go."

 
"The police!" Charlie shouted. "What did they say?"

 
"I didn't report it," Aaron said, and then burst into tears.

 
Charlie froze. "Why not?"

 
"Because the stupid bastard had been playing me, that's why! I thought he was out of it. You know. Wouldn't talk. Wouldn't feed himself. I sat him in a chair in the morning, and he was there when I came home. That went on for a almost week, and then one day I came home and he was gone. He'd taken all his clothes and the money out of my stash here at the house and disappeared. Hell...he was making everyone nervous here in the building. He did me a favor by running out."

 
Charlie was so angry he was shaking.

 
"Let me see if I understand this correctly. You checked your brother out of the hospital, got his power of attorney, dumped him in this shit-hole and banked his money without using it for his care. Have I missed anything?"

 
"It's not my fault he checked out of here," Aaron said.

 
"You're not following me," Charlie said. "If you are no longer caring for your brother, then why are you still cashing his checks?"

 
Aaron's face paled.

 
"I...uh...was just waiting for him to come back to—"

 
Charlie drew back and punched him in the nose. Blood spurted.

 
Aaron grabbed his face as he dropped to the floor.

 
"You broke my nose."

 
"Be glad it wasn't your neck," Charlie said, and dragged Aaron back to the phone.

 
When Charlie picked up the receiver, Aaron began to struggle, trying to get free.

 
Charlie yanked him off his feet with one hand, then tossed him into the corner of the room.

 
"Stay there," he ordered. "Don't talk to me, and don't move."

 
Aaron did as he was told.

 
Charlie dialed the operator; when the call was answered, his request was brief.

 
"Give me the police."

 
Aaron covered his face and groaned. He'd known it wouldn't last forever, but this wasn't exactly the ending he'd planned for.

 
A short while later, two officers arrived, took Charlie's statement and then dragged Aaron to his feet.

 
"What did I do that was so awful?" Aaron yelled as the officer handcuffed him. "Tell me. I didn't hurt anybody. This ain't right."

 
"Well, for starters, you've been defrauding the federal government for the better part of a year," Charlie said.

 
"I what?"

 
"You've been cashing retirement checks belonging to a military veteran. They frown on stuff like that."

 
Aaron groaned. "But it was all legal. I had his power of attorney."

 
"And you were also responsible for his care. You made your first mistake when you didn't report him missing, and I can tell you now, if anything has happened to that man, I will see you in hell."

 
Aaron shrank back against the Miami policeman and started to whine.

 
"You heard that. You're my witness. He threatened me with bodily harm."

 
The officer glanced at Charlie and then frowned.

 
"No. I didn't hear anything like that at all. All he said was that he would see you in hell. Now, I don't know what Mr. Frame's position on religion is, but I can swear to the fact that unless you change your tune, hell is right where you're headed."

 
Charlie had the satisfaction of seeing Aaron taken into custody, but he was even more concerned about Wes now than when he'd arrived. Then he remembered the cab driver he'd told to wait. He looked out the window. The good news was that he was still there. The bad news was that the meter was still running.

 
With a heavy heart, he took the next plane back to Fort Benning and reported his findings to the commandant, then went to the Officers' Club to drown his sorrows.

 
Two days later he was called back to headquarters, only this time with news he hadn't expected. Wesley Holden was not only alive and well, but ass-deep in big trouble in a place called Blue Creek, West Virginia.

 
"Sir...with your permission, I would like to go to—"

 
"I've already sent representatives on our behalf. Major Poteet and his assistant, Lieutenant Williams, are already on their way. However, considering your and Holden's history, I'm giving you three days to go satisfy yourself that he's okay."

 
Charlie grinned, then saluted smartly.

 
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir."

 
"Dismissed," the commandant said.

 
Charlie called the airport from his cell phone as he hurried back to his house. Two hours later, he was on a plane. He needed to look into Wes's face and know that the man he called friend was okay.

Nineteen

Wes glanced back at Ally, making sure she was through dressing before he opened the door. Her foot was too swollen for her to wear a shoe, and her hair was still damp from her bath. She was a sad sight in her crumpled, soot-streaked clothes, yet beautiful in his eyes.

 
"You ready for company?" he asked.

 
She nodded.

 
Still, Wes hesitated, and Ally began to worry if he was regretting what they'd done.

 
"Wes?"

 
Emotion welled in Wes's heart. He'd just made love to her. They had not just "had sex." They'd made love. There had been a time not so long ago when he would have sworn that would never happen again. But then he'd met Ally, and she'd given him back his life.

 
"I love you, honey."

 
Her face crumpled. "Oh, Wes...I love you, too."

 
Another knock sounded.

 
"Hold that thought," he said softly, then opened the door.

 
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then a loud shout of laughter.

 
"It is you! By God, I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!" Charlie Frame shouted, then gave Wes a bear hug of a greeting before looking intently into his eyes.

 
"It's you in there, isn't it, buddy?"

 
Wes grinned somewhat shamefacedly as he returned Charlie's hug. "Yeah, Charlie, it's me."

 
Charlie hugged him again, this time thumping him soundly on the back.

 
"I knew it! I knew you could do it. I knew you'd find your way back to us."

 
Wes finally managed to extricate himself from Char-he's grip, and as he did, Charlie saw the woman on the bed.

 
"Man, I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't intruding on—"

 
"No intrusion... Ally, this crazy man is my best friend, Colonel Charles Frame."

 
"Call me Charlie," he said, and walked over to the bed to shake hands. That was when he realized she was injured. He pointed to her foot. "That looks bad. Did you have an accident?"

 
"In a manner of speaking," Ally said, and calmly shook Charlie's hand. "I'm very glad to meet you, Charlie Frame."