Chapter 2

His phone blaring woke him up from a restless sleep, “Mathers,” he grumbled into the phone. He tensed a bit when he heard the sobs.

“Justin, I need you.” The soft female voice cried out.

“Iris? Hey, what’s wrong?” he sat up, becoming more alert now. He glanced at his bedside clock. It was two a.m. in Oklahoma, which meant it was one am in Ohio.

“Marnie’s missing.” His older sister choked out.

“What?” he demanded, getting out of bed and began to get his jeans and gray t-shirt on he had stripped off only a few hours earlier.

“She was at a friend’s house, she was supposed to be home four hours ago, Clay went to get her, but she wasn’t there.”

“Okay, next plane out I’ll be there, what are they doing there?”

“Nothing, yet she’s the fifth girl that’s disappeared in the last few months, not including one that disappeared six years ago, Justin, I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry, Iris, I’ll figure it out, I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”

“Thank you, little brother.” Iris ended the phone call.

Justin began to grab everything and shoved into a carry-on bag and took off. He’d call his partner later and explain what was going on. He called the airport as he thudded down the steps from his apartment in Oklahoma City and the one in Columbus. In Columbus, he arranged for a rental motorcycle to be there waiting for him when he arrived.

He purchased the ticket over the phone; his flight left in an hour. It would be a four-hour flight. Then he’d have about a two-hour drive ahead of him to get to Iris’s home.

Everyone in the family got along, and he knew Marnie wouldn’t have ran away, there never were any disagreements between the parents and daughter. Something was very wrong if Marnie was missing, there was some horrible foul play, he didn’t like it.

He wouldn’t rest until he found her. He lugged his carry-on over his shoulder as he headed to his motorcycle and took off. His partner could pick it up for him at the airport later. He sped through the light traffic and finally arrived at the airport. This was going to be the most prolonged six hours of his life. He boarded the mostly empty plane and settled himself in his window seat. He couldn’t even think straight at the moment.

All he could do was worry about was his niece, he knew what kind of pervs took sixteen-year-old girls. He’d have to do a lot of investigation and figure out who all had been taken, and he knew the district cops weren’t going to like that he was barging into the investigation and he didn’t give a crap.

He would solve this case with approval or without it. No one went against him, and he’d challenge these cops no matter what. He refrained from snatching his black Stetson off and dig his fingers through his hair. He felt he could have gotten there quicker riding his motorcycle, but knew it was impossible.

He’d just have to keep himself calm and relax, he wouldn’t be any help if he let the anger take over, but if he found the bastard who took his niece, he’d kill them. He had to find her before it was too late, and they’d lose all trace of her.

He refused to believe Marnie wouldn’t have put up a fight, he taught her so many self-defense techniques it seemed impossible for someone to take her, and no one knew until it was too late.

He pulled out his mini notepad, and a pen then began to jot down everyone he’d want to question when he got there. All the information he wanted from the cops in Saint Clairsville. Those cops would be getting a piece of his mind, and he didn’t care.

That’s what made him a good cop before, and now a P.I.

Justin's plane finally landed, and he rushed off the plane and out to the motorcycle that was waiting for him. He jumped on, fired the engine to life, and tore out of the parking lot and drove to Iris’s subdivision home. It’d be seven before he got there, and he wished he could be there sooner.

He finally whipped up into the driveway of the white picket fenced in, brick home. Too bad that was just a fake persona. Nothing was this cheerful or safe, obviously. He rushed up the wooden steps to the porch and didn’t bother to knock. He barged into the house, his boots clanking against the brown tiled floor, “Iris!” he yelled.

She came running out of the kitchen and fell into his arms, laying her head against his chest with him being six-four and her five-seven. He ran a hand down her soft, long blonde hair, “I’m here, sis, I’ll find her.”

“Oh, Justin, this is the worse,” she sobbed out as she dug her head into his chest.

"We’ll get to the bottom of this, c’mon, let’s go to the station. I need a lot of information to start with.”

“Okay, Clay can drive us.”

Justin stomped into the station and walked up to the front desk, “I want to speak to the chief and now.” He demanded, glaring at the desk cop.

The cop practically ran away, and she was then leading a heavy set, balding man back.

"I’m Chief Michaels, can I help you?”

“I want every information you have on every girl that’s disappeared, including the recent one, Marnie Benson,” Justin demanded, pulling out his P.I. License.

“And what makes you think I’m giving it to you?”

“Because, apparently, you haven’t had any luck, and now that my niece is involved, I’m now involved, and I know what it’s going to take to solve these disappearances, now all of the information.” Justin wasn’t backing down.

The older man let out a sigh and motioned for Justin to follow him. He was taken back to a small office where Chief Michaels motioned for him to sit in one of the gray cushioned chairs. Justin didn’t want to sit, he had done enough of that on the plane, but he guessed he should if that was going to get him in good graces in with the chief. He sunk into the chair but didn’t relax his frame.

The chief pulled out five folders from the middle of his black metal desk and handed them to Justin, “Five girls in eight months, we’ve never had something like this before, and we’ve had a trail for a little bit, but then they just die out. We’re still working all of them, every angle, hell who’s to say they are even here anymore or even in the states.”

Justin’s gray gaze sliced through the chief; no wonder they weren’t having any luck with thinking like that. It was like they had already given up all hope of finding the girls. He began to shift through the folders. Everything was the same, young girls hanging out with friends and going to be picked up by their parents. When the parents showed up to get them the girls were gone, just vanished. He grimaced when he looked over the ages, and the youngest was thirteen when she was taken, now fourteen, Tinley Jamison, Vanessa Peters, seventeen, June Austin, sixteen, Krystal O’Hare, fifteen, and then Marnie, sixteen.