I shove the guy back.
Surprise is the only reason I get him to move. He’s got fifty pounds and twenty years on me, but he still stumbles.
Then he rights himself and pushes me in the chest. “I’ll fucking end you, you little shit. Get the fuck out.”
I shove his hands away. “I’m not leaving until I talk to someone.”
The man steps into my space. “You rich pricks think you can do whatever the fuck you want.” This time when he pushes me, he pushes me hard, and I clip my shoulder on the edge of the shelving unit next to the doorway.
He probably saw my car parked outside the door. Saw the luxury model and figured I’m here because I’m just another spoiled shit trying to get his way.
“My sister was taken!”
I shout it.
I shout it with all the rage and worry and anguish inside me.
“Someone here saw it!” Heat fills my eyes.
But I don’t care. I don’t care if he sees me cry. I don’t care if he punches me. If he breaks all my bones. Nothing will stop me from finding Freya.
The man freezes, his eyes widening, before they flicker away and back.
He knows something.
“Who?” I hiss, stepping into his space. “Who has her?”
His head is shaking before I finish asking. “I don’t know anything about any girl.”
He’s lying.
I grab for his shirt, but he swats my hands away.
“Tell me!” My voice breaks. “She’s only eighteen.”
“Just like I told the cops, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He raises his voice, and something about it is off. Like he’s doing it for someone else, not me. “You need to go.”
My breaths are coming heavier now.
“Who?” I whisper.
“Out. Now.” He’s still talking loudly, pushing me backward toward the door. Then his voice drops to a whisper, just like mine. “Marcoux.”
I step out into the daylight, and the door slams shut in front of me.
“Dad?” I keep my voice quiet, not sure if he’s awake.
None of us have gotten any sleep since…
His head lifts from where it rested against his desk.
It takes his eyes a moment to focus. “Hans? Come in.”
I step through the threshold. “I… I have a name.”
It’s a different officer this time, and the sympathy on his face looks as fake as his hair.
“So…” He glances down at his notepad, like he can’t remember what I said twenty seconds ago. “You went to Comet, without telling anyone you were going, and then bullied some employee into giving you this name.” He says name like the one I gave him is alien, not French.
“I didn’t bully him,” I snap. “And I’m nineteen. I don’t need to tell people where I’m going.”
“You do when it interferes with a police investigation.”
“What investigation?” I throw my hands up. “You haven’t done anything!”
Dad settles his hand on my leg. I don’t know if it’s for comfort or to keep me from attacking the cop.
“I understand this is a trying time.” The fucking prick isn’t even trying to sound like he cares anymore. “But you need to let us do our jobs. And chasing after rumors”—he holds up his notepad where he supposedly wrote the name down—“doesn’t help.”
I keep my jaw clenched as he rises from the other couch.
“We’ll be in touch.” He dips his head to Mom, who’s been sitting on my other side, then he sees himself out.
Mom doesn’t acknowledge him. She doesn’t do anything.
The cop called the name a rumor. But Dad had heard the name Marcoux before.
It’s not a fucking rumor.
Fifteen years ago, when I was just four and Freya was three, we moved here from Sweden. Dad had an investment opportunity that utilized his mining experience, so he sold his company, and we came to the US. And in a bid to familiarize himself with Arizona, he took to reading the local paper, cover to cover, every day. He never stopped.
Which is how he knew about the uptick in gang activity in the Phoenix area in the past year. And he remembers Marcoux. He especially remembers it because the very next day, the newspaper published an article recanting the Marcoux name. He remembered it because it screamed of corruption.
It didn’t take Dad long to find the article, saved in a stack in his office.
He found it and read it to us.
The statement claimed that the previous story was an editorial error and that the name wasn’t associated with the recent violence, drug use… or human trafficking.