Giving In

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A Week Ago:

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A Week Ago:

I walk into the diner but I don't see Carol. This is supposed to be her shift. There's a new woman here instead, older, pinned up hair. Looks like one of those bouffant women from back in the day. I would've expected to see her here in the first place, not Carol. Carol was much younger, didn't look like she belonged in this diner, could've been in movies, just not in the right city for it.


"Just a cup of coffee for me."
"Sure thing stranger."
"Carol took the day off?"
"No one's heard from Carol in the past couple of days. If you know her personally I'd say check on her sugar. It's not a good thing when a pretty girl hasn't been heard from in a while."
"No one's called the police?"
"Sweetheart, not to sound cold, but it's not my business. I've learned a long time ago to keep my nose out of other people's affairs. Called myself helping a friend once, almost lost my life. They were in trouble with some bad people. Might've been Russian. If you're related to her you go to the police, I'm sitting this one out unfortunately."

The cowardice is absolutely shameful, but I can't blame the woman. Those damn Russians definitely had something to do with Carol's disappearance, I just know it. They'll come for me in the next couple of days. I can ask the Boss if he took her. I didn't put myself through two weeks of punishment just to end up losing the woman I set out to save in the first place. Feels too much like wasted time.

A Few Days Prior:

"Coffee?"

"Sure."

"How are things going?"

"Beatings are beatings. You get treated like a tough piece of steak, leave feeling like prime meat. Breathing is tough, I might have a few cracked ribs. I haven't been as active on the crime scene. I'm currently at too big a disadvantage."

"Do you still feel the same way about me going to the police and leaving an anonymous tip?"

"Anonymous tip, sheet of paper dropped out in front of the station, flare, smoke signal, I want no such help!"

"You know I can't just sit around and watch as you suffer on my behalf."

"I've done it before, it's how we met. I'm not complaining, you asked this time."

"I risked my life reentering the fight for you against that creep."

"And now I'm asking you to stay out of it like you should have then."

"You'd be dead."

"You wouldn't..." 

Present Day:

I enter the diner and spot the replacement again.

"Hey stranger, what can I get you?"
"Any word from Carol?"
"'Fraid not..."
"No one knows where she lives to go check on her?"
"The manager I suppose, but he isn't exactly the 'Check on his girl's well-being' type. He's already been bringing in replacements for interviews. To him, she quit. That's all."

Here I was thinking all this time, I was the only one who didn't have anyone concerned about my well-being, but Carol appears to be the second. Nothing on the news about her, no coworkers concerned, she never really mentioned much family. Gone without a trace.

I turn to leave.

"Hey wait." A deep voice calls out from the back.

The chef, a short overweight man, long beard, reddish hair, comes out from behind the counter and pulls me to the side.

"Listen, I'm a little worried about Carol too. I think she's been kidnapped. I can't say for sure though. But I know someone who'll know. He's Russian, if a pretty girl goes missing he'll know where to find her. But there is no, 'Give her back.' He speaks in dollar signs."

"I don't have money like that, two hundred tops."

"I got two hundred and fifty to add to that. See if you can get her back. Make yourself sound like a customer though or you'll be putting yourself in danger."

"Thanks, umm..."

"Tim. Carol helped the shifts go by. She's a good person. Hate to think someone has her against her will."

"Where do I find this Russian guy?"

"Tonight, head up to Club Red. Look for the guy with all the women in VIP. They're the product. If you're lucky, Carol might even be out there."

"How do you know all of this?"

"A friend recommended me once."

"And you accepted?"

"Diner cooks aren't exactly ballers. You take what you can—"

I leave the diner. At least now I have a lead. I thought I could've asked the Boss himself if he took her, but he hasn't swooped me up in a while. I haven't even seen the occasional white van anymore. It's almost like they forgot about me. I thought we were friends; how could they just kick me to the curb like this?

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