“Crap! Why isn’t this stupid GPS thing working?” I swear I get around so much better in strange cities without all the techy gadgets. The light ahead of me turned red. I slammed on the breaks just shy of some guy’s bumper. Don’t want to wreck the rental. I turned the GPS off.
I looked around: A strip club, a paycheck advance place, a gas station, and a cyber café. I turned right at the light and found a parking spot on the street. The CyberCafé was the only place open this early. I stepped inside. The place was empty except for a guy behind the counter and a young blood busing tables. I walked to the counter.
“I’m looking for The Church. Would you happen to know where that is?” Why I didn’t have an actual name for the place made no sense, but Walker assured me that it was the only one for miles in this town.
I heard a bell chime behind me. I saw the reflection of a woman in the guy’s glasses. She walked to a table near the back right corner. I caught a glimpse of her in my peripheral vision. She positioned herself so she could see the door. Smart woman. Her fingers moved like lightning over her keyboard.
The guy gave me directions. I grabbed a hot tea to go. On my way out, I bumped into a 20-something year old woman. I pegged her as a reporter type – something about her clothes.
My phone rang as I walked to my car. “Dez Jackson,” I answered.
“Ms. Jackson?” The man spoke quietly, like he didn’t want to be heard.
“Yes,”
“This is Mr. Walker. I wanted to touch base to make sure you made it there safely and were able to find the Church. Also, you did get the photo of the young girl Sophie that was sent with the package, right?”
“Yes, I’m on my way to The Church now,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll wait to hear back from you soon,” he said.
He disconnected. I got back into the rental. I looked through my windshield into the Café. The reporter was handing the other woman a napkin or something. They sat together. Why was the mad typist crying?
“Let it go,” I told myself. I put the car into reverse.
Now that I had clear directions, I didn’t waste any time getting to the Church. I pulled into the small parking lot. There wasn’t anyone around. I got out, locked the car (you can take the girl out of the city – well, you get the idea), and walked to the front of the building. Red doors. Why would a church have red doors? Is it symbolic? I shuddered at that thought.
I heard heavy footsteps from where I’d just come. A man appeared around the corner.
The man smiled asking if he could help me. Normally, I’d be all about asking the direct question and making nice with the locals, but my stomach was doing that funny flippy thing it does when I get the creepy vibe.
“Actually, I’m a bit turned around. I’m looking for a place called The Cybercafé. Can you tell me where it is?”
The man gave me directions.
“Thank you.” I headed back to the parking lot.
I was back where I started with only a picture of a dark haired young girl named Sophie and the mysterious Mr. Walker who wanted me to find her.
*******
About a week later, my leads on Sophie had me standing in front of Club Vanilla. Every strip club in every city is the same – dark, dank, and no windows. A big guy greeted me at the door. Typical. I told him I was looking for a job. Lying is my default. He directed me to the bar. The bartender and one of the strippers stopped talking when I approached the bar. I found a spot near the end.
The bartender walked over. “What can I get ya?” She asked.
“Tangueray & Tonic.”
I waited a few minutes. The stripper got busy slicing lemons. Her hands were quick.
“Here ya go.”
“Thanks.” I looked at the bartender, and then back at the stripper. Something clicked! She was the reporter from the CyberCafe, and the stripper was the mad typist.
“Everything okay?” The bartender asked.
“Yeah, good, thanks. Listen, I’m looking for this girl.” I pulled out the picture of Sophie.
Thank you to Dez Jackson (aka Kori Miller) adding a new layer of mystery to this episode of MisAdventures. Please stop by Kori’s blog
