Without A Trace(Luke Hemmings FF)

Two

Luke's POV:
I grab my keys and drive to the beach. I remember when this beach was a crime scene. Police everywhere searching for the slightest little clue to push them into the right direction. I hear my phone ring. It's Maya calling.

"Hello?" I answer with a hint of annoyance.

"What the hell has gotten into you?! I've texted you twice trying to get you to have sex with me and you won't? Why?!" She yells.

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm just busy!" I groan.

"Busy?! What can be more important to you than having sex with me?!" She whines.

"Maya, I have to go." I tell her.

"No, explain, Luke!" She demands.

"Maya, I don't have time for this. I've got to go." I tell her and hang up. I stand in the same spot I saw her talking to Brad at that day. I knock on the door of one beach houses. A middle aged man answers.

"Hey, I have a question about something that happened on the beach a year ago." I begin. He looks confused.

"I'm talking about the disappearance of Zoey Delany." I explain.

"She was seen talking to an angry man over there," I point.

"He showed her something inside of his jacket and then she got into his black Mercedes." I add.

"Do you know anything about that? Did you see or hear anything?" I ask.

"Look, kid, I already told the police everything I know." He starts to shut his door, but I stop it with my foot.

"What do you know?" I ask.

"N-Nothing." He stammers.

"We are talking about an 18-year-old girl! And a family who wants to know the truth! I know that I can get to the bottom of this if you just tell me what you know! Imagine if this were your daughter out there alone maybe alive maybe dead! Wouldn't you want to know the truth?!" I shout. He looks a little uneasy, but he sighs.

"I know one man who drives a Mercedes. He's a low life." He tells me.

"Name! I need a name!" I demand.

"Mark Hemmings." He tells me and I freeze in place. My father? My father died about a year ago on his boat while sailing across Sydney. His boat was mangled, but they never found his body.

"Kid? Hey, kid, are you alright?" The man waves his hand in front of my face in an attempt to bring me back to focus.

"Yeah. Um," I gulp.

"What did the guy look like?" I ask.

"He's tall, muscular build, black receding hair, and he has a tattoo on his forearm of a snake biting a heart and the heart spews out blood. That's all I know." He tells me. I sigh. He just described my father. I walk back to my car and get inside. I turn my car on, but sit stationary while I put together my thoughts. What if my father isn't dead? What if he lives this alternate life where he's a psycho maniac? No. There's no way.

My dad is the nicest man I've ever known. Come to think of it, there's this house in Tasmania that he used to take me to when I was younger. He called it his getaway. I never understood what he was getting away from or why he'd take me with him sometimes, but I never asked him either. He never let me tell my mum, though. In fact, once I got old enough to understand more, he stopped letting me come and he would go on his own. I've always kind of wondered if he was having an affair on mum, but I never knew for sure, so I kept it to myself. I drive home and walk into my room. I recap on the new information I was given and contemplate going back to that house. If my father really did kidnap Zoey, would he have brought her to that house? What if he is dead and this is all just a big waste of time? I grab my laptop and pull up Google. I type in the address of my father's getaway house and hit enter.

I scroll through the results. I click through the recent photos. It looks pretty well managed as if someone is still living there. I scroll through more results. One stands out to me. It says that there was a murder committed a few miles from the home in the woods 9 months ago. The victim was a 17-year-old girl, but it doesn't say her name. Just that she died of blunt force trauma. I don't get it. Blunt force trauma should have left behind the victim's DNA. Blood or something. Wouldn't they have connected that to Zoey? Something's not adding up. I'd better go check the house out for myself. The house is 30 hours away, so I pack a few things and grab my clothes. I walk downstairs as my mum walks through the door. She looks at the small bag of my belongings in my hand.

"Where are you going?" She asks.

"Uh... Ashton's." I lie.

"Okay, when will you be home?" She asks.

"I'm not sure." I tell her.

"Okay, I love you." She tells me as she kisses my cheek. I cringe a little, but ignore it.

"Love you too." I tell her, then leave. As I start to drive out of the neighborhood, I call Ashton.

"Hey, what's up?" He answers.

"Hey, if my mum asks where I am, tell her I'm at your house." I tell him.

"Why?" He wonders.

"Just do it! And pass the message to the other guys." I order.

"What's going on with you, bro?" He grumbles.

"Nothing, just make sure my mum thinks I'm with you and safe." I tell him.

"Wait, are you not safe?" He worries.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just cover for me." I say, then hang up. I turn the radio on and hear Holiday by Green Day, so I turn it on full blast and rock out as I approach the freeway. I see my phone light up on the seat next to me, so I grab it. Maya's calling me again.

"Maya, I really can't talk right now." I tell her.

"Luke, you are going to come over and we're going to have the best sex we've ever had, or we're done. You've blown me off enough." She tells me.

"Don't give me ultimatums, Maya." I scold.

"Luke, seriously. Come over." She tells me.

"I'm not even home, Maya." I tell her.

"Where are you?" She sounds annoyed.

"I'm going out of town." I tell her.

"You mean with, like, your mum or something?" She asks.

"No, my mum's not with me." I tell her.

"Then, who are you with?" She asks.

"I'm by myself." I tell her.

"Who are you going to see? Is there another girl?" She pries.

"I've never really understood why people ask their girlfriend or boyfriend if they're cheating on them. It's not like they'd confess to it." I say, casually.

"Luke!" She shouts.

"Maya, I have to go. I'll call you when I get home." I tell her.

"Don't bother!" She growls and hangs up. I roll my eyes and blast the radio again.

...
I arrive to my hotel and check in. It's 2:30 in the morning and I'm almost halfway to Tasmania. I can't fight my sleepy battle, so I give in, closing my eyes and falling asleep.