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Chapter 3 - Diner Conversation.-

I’m so discouraged by the snail pace of our search. This is fucking hopeless. But even the mere thought of giving up makes the panic inside start to well up again. While Em says goodbye to Ducky, I take my frustration out by walking across the alley and kicking the dumpster - an obvious mistake because I’m really not in any shape to take on large steel objects - which not only hurts my foot but reminds me of all the rest of my bruises and pains.

“If you’re done abusing poor, innocent trash receptacles, Bri, can we get going already?” Emmett asks and I have to give him credit for being almost as snarky as I usually am.

I growl at him under my breath, but that only gets me laughed at before Em starts walking away. I limp after him.

“And where, exactly, are we supposed to be going, huh? Ducky doesn’t know where the party is this week and even if he did, we don’t know if that’s where Justin is. Hell, the kid could be anywhere.” Em isn’t slowing down, though, despite my grumbling, and now I’m having to jog to catch up with him. “Honeycutt? Where the fuck are you going, Honeycutt? Damn it, slow down. I’m not feeling . . . Shit, I’m gonna fucking puke if you don’t stop.”

I come to a stumbling halt, leaning against the brick wall of the alley, trying to fight back a wave of dizziness. I’m not joking about puking. I feel like shit. Probably should have stayed in the fucking hospital till whatever medicine they’d been giving me had completely cleared all the drugs out of my system. The adrenaline and my driving sense of panic are the only things that have kept me going this far, but now that it seems we’ve come to a dead end, even that is failing me.

I’ve failed him. The boy - Justin - is still out there somewhere. But if I can’t find him soon . . . I feel so useless.

“Whoa there, Sweetie,” Em appears beside me, sliding a supportive arm around my waist just as I’m about to topple over. “Sorry, Bri. I kind of forgot about the fact you just got out of the hospital an hour ago. I think you need to sit down and take a short rest. Maybe eat something. When was the last time you ate?”

I don’t bother to answer because I’m getting tired of saying ‘I don’t remember’. Em helps me along to where he left Ted’s car and we drive the couple of blocks over to the Liberty Diner in silence. I’m too dejected to even protest as he comes around the car and helps me out, then practically carries me inside the familiar restaurant. I feel only slightly better this visit. Hopefully I won’t repeat my performance from earlier in the evening and pass out again.

“Now, that’s better,” Em says as he takes the seat across from me. “We’ll get you something to eat and that should perk you right up. You can’t do your best detective work on an empty stomach, right?”

“Detective work? I think you missed the part where we have no idea what we’re doing and no clue where to look, Honeycutt.”

“Did you realize you’re really tetchy when you’re hungry?” Emmett replies, ignoring my glaring. “And don’t call me ‘Honeycutt’.”

When Kiki comes over to take our order - eyeing me warily, as if she’s afraid that I’ll start screaming again or maybe flop over dead this time - Emmett speaks up for me and asks for my usual turkey sandwich, no mayo. He orders himself something horribly unhealthy and then picks up his phone and starts tapping at it. The ordinariness of this whole scene just pisses me off more. Doesn’t he get that there’s an injured kid out there, who could be dying? Can’t he at least sympathize with the fact that I feel like shit because I’m failing the kid? Is keeping up on his social media feed that fucking important? Maybe I WILL start screaming again.

“There. That should do it,” Em announces and sets the phone aside with a smile.

“Stop looking so fucking happy,” I growl at him, then move on to scowling into my coffee cup.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Em chides and sips at his diet coke. “Trust me, Bri. We should know where this week’s party is any minute now.”

I just look at him with confusion because . . .

“Really, Brian? You doubt my powers? They don’t call me the Queen Gossip of Liberty Avenue for nothing!” Emmett chuckles and looks so fucking smug - if I didn’t feel like I was about to collapse again, I’d smack him. “I just sent out a text to my party chat group. If there’s a party happening anywhere in the Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area, these guys will either know about it or can find it. Granted, none of MY friends run in the same circles as that sleaze, Gary Sapperstein, but that shouldn’t slow them down for long.” Kiki comes over right then and sets our plates down on the table. “Now, just eat your dry, tasteless sandwich, and by the time you’re done we should know exactly where to find The Sapp.”

I’m still staring at him a half a minute later, amazed at the resourcefulness of this man who I’ve apparently underestimated for far too long. I realize I’m actually pretty lucky that Emmett is the only one in town right now. If Mikey had been the one that found me, he’d have immediately got all protective and sympathetic and made everything ten times worse by trying to coddle me. Ted would have probably said something biting like, ‘what did I expect with the lifestyle I led’. He might have eventually helped me, if I ordered him to, but he would have been snarking at me the whole time and giving me unwanted advice. Emmett, though, has been remarkably helpful. He’s not the kind to say ‘I told you so’ and he’s almost as promiscuous as I am, so he’s not likely to judge. And he’s also proven to be really fucking supportive. I guess I lucked out.

“Stop staring at your food, Brian,” Em orders, pulling me out of my reverie as he, himself, scarfs down another french fry. “Come on. Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”

*****Flash*****

I’m roused from the drugged-out daze I was in by the sound of the lock on the door clicking. The darkness of the tiny room I’m in is invaded by a blinding sliver of light breaking through from the hallway outside as the door creaks open. Either because of the drugs, or because my eyes haven’t yet adjusted to the light, all I can see are the black silhouettes of two figures standing in the doorway. The taller of the two shadows violently shoves the other one into the room with a dismissive grunt. I barely manage to catch the boy before he lands on top of me, his form suddenly colorized when he’s no longer between me and the only light source.

“Better get some rest. We’ve got more visitors coming tonight and they’re looking forward to spending some time getting to know you better. You’d be amazed how popular blond boy ass is these days.” The menacing shadow at the door cackles with laughter at his cruel joke before slamming the portal closed again.

Meanwhile, the figure in my arms is sobbing so hard he’s shaking both of us. I try to hold onto him. I try to comfort him. Not that what little I have to offer is much comfort seeing as we’re both still locked in this cold little room at the mercy of these horrible sadists.

“I wish they’d just kill me already and get it over with,” the boy moans through his tears. “I know it’s going to happen eventually. Why can’t they just do it already?”

There’s nothing I can say to reassure him, because I know he’s right. I just hold onto him as tightly as I can as he slowly quiets. But, right as we’re both starting to relax, the door creaks open again and the same shadow appears against the resulting wall of light.

“Almost forgot. Dinner is served.” Our captor throws a greasy bag from some local fast-food place into the room and then rolls in two bottles of water. “Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”

*****Flash*****

I push the plate of food away from me.

“Brian . . . I know you’re worried about this kid,” Emmett says in a hushed voice. He slides the plate back towards me. “But you can’t help him if you pass out from hunger. Please try and eat, okay? I’m sure we’ll find him somehow. Just give my friends a little time. They’ve never failed me before when I was trying to find a party.”

I sigh but pick up my sandwich. “I hate it when anyone other than me is right,” I grumble as I take a bite.

The sandwich tastes surprisingly good and I realize how truly hungry I am. I try to concentrate on the food in front of me so my mind can’t wander again. Em is right about me being no use to the boy if I pass out from hunger. I hope he’s right about his friends knowing where to find Sapperstein. If something happened to Justin and I after that damn party last week, hopefully The Sapp will at least be able to tell us where to look next.

Just as I’m finishing the last bite, Em’s phone vibrates and he picks it up off the table with a grin. “Let’s see what we got . . .” Em swipes and taps at the phone for a minute and then his grin turns to a frown. “Damn. Well, that’s not helpful at all.” He looks over at me apologetically and reads the text aloud. “Word is, ‘Sapp’s party was cancelled at the last minute. Friend of a friend of a friend, who was hired to dance, showed up at the address he’d been given and nobody was there. Looks like tonight’s orgy of old guys is off.’ That’s strange, don’t you think? The other guys on the chat are saying these parties are a regular thing - although they all think I’m crazy for wanting to go to one. Sounds like they’re more than just a little sketchy. I don’t think even you’d want to go to one of THESE parties, Brian. Ewww . . .”

Before I can complain about yet another dead end in our search, though, the guy sitting at the booth behind Emmett turns around and looks at us over the seat back. “Did you guys say you were looking to go to one of The Sapp’s parties? I’d rethink that, if I were you.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask the guy, who looks vaguely familiar - he’s probably a former trick, but obviously wasn’t a good enough fuck for me to remember him.

“Those parties are fucking creepy,” he answers, the distaste on his countenance more telling than even his words as he relates his story. “I used to date this guy who worked for Sapperstein at Babylon. He’d been pushing for Nate to dance at one of his parties for ages. Nate finally gave in and agreed to do it - Sapp said he’d pay him $350 and all he had to do was dance for a few hours, so Nate figured what the hell - but he asked me to come along because he’d heard some scary stories about that scene. We only stayed at the fucking party for about fifteen minutes before we bugged out. There were all these old guys pawing at the dancers and getting really pushy. One of them even tried to force some drugs on Nate. He decided it wasn’t worth it, no matter how much money Sapp was offering, and we took off.”

Em sets aside his phone, his expression mirroring the storyteller guy. “That’s what my friends are saying too. Those parties are apparently notorious.”

*****Flash*****

“Justin! Glad you could make it,” Sapperstein shouts as soon as he sees the boy.

I’m following only a step or two behind the blond. I look around myself at the bevy of Sapp’s party goers and I’m not impressed. The place is dark but they’ve got these tacky disco lights flashing all over the place. The air is redolent with the aroma of cheap weed, bad cologne, and stale beer. The party guests are all old and really fugly; Sapp, who’s pushing the end of his forties, is probably the youngest one here, except for the chicken go-go boys that he’s got dancing over in the corner. This has got to be the most pathetic excuse for a party I’ve ever seen. I’m definitely not drunk enough for this shit. I hope my blond doesn’t have to stick around too long.

That’s when Gary finally notices me tagging along behind Justin. “Kinney? What the fuck are you doing here? I don’t recall inviting you.”

“You didn’t. But you’re in luck, ‘cause now that I’m here, your party won’t be completely lame.”

“Fuck you, Kinney. Now, get the hell out before I call the cops and have you dragged out of here,” Sapp snaps, clearly not happy to see me.

“Now, now, Gary,” says a sleazy, older guy with a paunchy belly that sags over his belt and too many gold chains showing through the grizzled hair on his chest. “Let’s not be too hasty. I’m sure Kinney will fit in just fine with our plans for the evening. How about I show him the way to the bar while you take care of getting the rest of the entertainment set up.” The creep puts his flabby arm around my shoulders and starts to lead me over towards the far corner of the room where several of his fellow party-goers are gathered around a small wet bar set up. “Come on, Kinney. Let me buy you a drink . . .”

*****Flash*****

I’m glad when that flash of memory fades and the Diner rematerializes around me. I’m not sure I can keep down my sandwich though. They aren’t kidding when they say the Sapp’s parties are sketchy.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like we’d be going to the Sapp’s party even if we wanted to,” Em comments as the helpful guy in the other booth turns around and focuses on his own food. “Everybody in my chat group confirms that tonight’s party was cancelled. I’m sorry, Brian. I thought for sure we could find your missing boy that way. But if we can’t track down Sapp, and nobody else seems to know anything about this Justin kid other than he hasn’t been seen since last Friday, I don’t know who to talk to next. You sure you can’t remember what you and Justin did after The Sapp’s party? If we could just figure out what happened after that party . . .”

“There’s nothing after the party,” I interrupt my friend’s musing, the answer just popping into my mind without warning. “It’s not what happened AFTER the party . . . The party . . . Fuck, whatever it was . . . it happened AT the fucking party.” Em is looking at me with intense interest as I grapple with the fragments of my dim memories. “Your friends were right - that party was fucking creepy as hell. I can actually remember arriving with Justin but . . . after that there’s nothing. Whatever happened, it started at that fucking party.”

“That makes sense,” Em concedes, walking us both through the next logical steps together. “And if Sapp was actually involved in whatever happened to you, then finding him isn’t going to be much help; he’s not likely to tell us what happened if he’s involved in covering it up. So, what we need to figure out isn’t where tonight’s party was supposed to be, but where last week’s party was and who else was there. Not sure how we do that, though . . .”

Yeah. An orgy that moves around every week, hosted by a bunch of sinister old queens that like to paw at young blond boys. Those guys shouldn’t be hard to find at all, right? Fuck!

“Too bad you didn’t let Ducky call you a cab. If you had, we could have had the cab company tell us where they let you off at,” Em speculates. “But since you let the kid drive you, there’s no telling where . . .”

“Yes! We drove! That’s perfect!” I’m shouting as I grab for Em’s phone.

“What? What’d I miss?” Emmett is asking as I use his phone to connect to the internet and pull up the website I was looking for.

“Did I tell you I recently had a new stereo system put into the Jeep?” I ask with the first stirrings of hope I’ve felt since we set out on this fool’s journey. Then I hold up the phone for my friend showing the little map with the blinking red dot on it. “The stereo came with built-in GPS and an emergency security system . . . which is currently telling me my car is right there.” The dot is located way out in the suburbs, south of the city, but at least it’s a start.

“Excellent! You have the best toys, Brian. Let’s go!”

Em is already up and halfway to the door and I’m right on his heels. I’m not sure what we’ll find when we locate my car, but if I’m right, and it’s still parked wherever last week’s party took place, hopefully that will jog loose a few more memories.

Hang in there, Justin. I’m coming for you as fast as I can. Just don’t die on me in the meantime.

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