Her Only Hero

Chapter 9

Pulling up at 'Dale's Pub', I turn my car off and get out, rushing to the entrance.

I scan the inside and find the man behind the bar, pouring a drink for a man in his forties. Pushing past and moving around the other occupants in the pub, I make my way over to him.

I wait for him to finish serving the man and when the man walks away, I open my mouth to speak, but I don't get a sound out before he speaks.

"Hey," he greets me with a smile. "I'm gonna need to see some ID. You look too young to drink."

"I'm not here to drink," I tell him. "Do you know anyone by the name of Nathan? He would have been here last night."

He leans on the bar toward me and widens his smile. "Quite a few people were here last night."

"Well, he would have left with a woman at around five or six in the morning," I explain. "She's 42 but looks like she's 60 while trying to appear 18; with stringy, badly dyed blonde hair. And she wears too much awful coloured makeup. She had on a tight white dress that had a low V neck that was revealing just enough to make you want to stab a fork into your eyes."

He blinks at me, mouth slightly agape. The sounds of the other occupants chatting and enjoying themselves fill the atmosphere. I try to gauge his reaction and thoughts but he gives nothing away.

"Damn, son," he says, standing up straight. "You have a problem with this woman?"

"Yeah, but she's irrelevant," I say. "I'm looking for Nathan. Do you know him?"

He pauses. Crossing his arms and raising his chin, he sizes me up. "Nah. Sorry son. Don't know him."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "'Cause it seems like you do."

"Look." He leans in closer, talking quieter. "Him and his brother have a reputation. They're not people that someone your age should be hanging around."

"I don't want to hang around them. I just want to talk to them."

"Sure you do," he says, rolling his eyes. "I suggest you forget about that stuff, go home, and do whatever homework you have."

It takes me a moment to realise what he's talking about. "I don't—No, I don't want drugs," I tell him. "He took something that doesn't belong to him."

"Ah, got ya. Well, either way." He looks down the bar to the woman waiting to be served. "You should leave them alone and report it to the police. Let them deal with it."

My teeth grind together. "I don't have time to let the cops deal with it. I need to find him now."

"Look pal, I don't have time for this." He speaks through his teeth. "I have customers to serve. Let the cops know he stole your wallet, phone, car, whatever he took, and get out of my bar." With that, he turns and walks over to the woman.

He serves her two clear drinks and when she walks away, I take her place. "Please," I beg.

"Kid, I've had many people in here complaining that he stole something from them. Him and his brother do it all the time." His voice, a low growl, can barley be heard over the constant chatter in the room. "They want me to tell them where to find them, and I tell them what I'm telling you. I can't, and I won't." He picks up a used glass from beside him. "I've contacted the police myself about them, but they've told me they can't do anything about it unless their victims contact them. So, either talk to the police about it or consider whatever he stole gone for good."

He takes the glass and turns away, heading towards a door to the side of the bar.

"He took my sister."

That stops him dead in his tracks. He moves slow, turning back around to face me. Eyes wide. Blinking. Mouth parted. He pinches his brows together. "W—What?"

"My mum brought him home last night," I explain, "and this morning he kidnapped my sister."

"Well, then." He takes slow steps towards me. "You should definitely talk to the police about it."

"Didn't you hear me?" I lean forward, making my voice go as deep as I can. "I don't have time to let the police create an investigation. I need to get her back now."

"You shouldn't be the one going after them."

Who else will? Mum? The police will waste time writing reports. I'm her only hope. "Well, I am. Do you know where to find them or not?"

"I can't give out that type of information," he says.

"Please," I plead. "I won't tell anyone. No one has to know."

"I'm sorry, bud. I really think you should go to the police. Both of them can get a bit aggressive, especially when confronted."

Is that supposed to change my mind?

Pushing myself away from the bar, I say, "All the more reason to get her back as soon as possible."

I don't want to hear anymore from him. He's wasting my time. Time Misty might not have. I'm going to get her back. I give him one last look and strut out the doors.

Halfway to my car, as I unlock it with the button on my key, a voice from behind me catches my attention.

"Hey! Buddy!" I turn to see the barman following after me. He stops in front of me. Concern etched into his features. His stiff demeanour revealing his reluctance. "Honestly, I don't know where he lives...but I've heard he works at Craig's Motors, the auto-repair shop on Fletcher Street." He sighs. "Maybe you could find out more there."

His words pass through my brain like fog through smoke, and it takes time for me to process and understand them.

I had no idea where to go from here. The only plan I had was to drive around, asking people if they knew him, and searching for him and my sister. He just shone a light in the tunnel and pointed me towards towards a possible exit. He's given me hope.

I stutter my words out, pushing past my shock. "Uh- oh- Thanks."

"Good luck," he says, holding his hand out to me, "and stay safe."

Taking his hand, he gives me a strong handshake and I give him a small nod. He turns and walks back towards the pub. I walk the short distance to my car and open the door, but before I can get in I hear him shout from the doorway.

"And don't do anything you'll regret."

With that, he disappears behind the doors and I climb into my car.

Next destination, the repair shop. Good thing I know where it is.

***