Page 26 of Bram

“If I’m not back by dusk, you know what to do.”

Ruiz opened the rear door of the cruiser, like a butler with manners. I got in, ducked my head, sat with my hands folded on my lap. The seat was the same as all the others: vinyl, hard, designed to break your dignity down to scraps. I let it.

The cruiser started up, and backed out slow. Through the glass, I watched the yard—men standing, arms crossed, a cluster of muscle and loyalty. Rusty was already on his phone. The gate slid shut behind us, slicing the world in half.

We turned onto the main road, the engine barely above idle. I looked out at the desert, the long reach of the sky, and wondered if Julie had seen the same thing when they took her.

I leaned forward, spoke through the wire mesh. “You really think I had something to do with it?” I said. “With her?”

Ruiz didn’t look back. “I don’t think. I follow orders.”

He let that hang for a mile.

I sat back. Let him think he had the upper hand. I knew the truth—there were no hands in this world, only fists.

We rolled into town, sirens off. The sun was a glare on every window. I counted every turn, every pause, every time he checked the rearview.

By the time we hit the station, I had the whole thing mapped in my head.

Ruiz parked, killed the engine. He opened my door. I got out and looked at him dead in the face. “You tell whoever’s pulling your strings,” I said, “they better pull harder.”

He almost smiled. “Noted.”

“And that while you’re out here trying to fuck me over, we could be looking for her.”

“Damnit, Bram, I know all this shit. I’m doing what I’m told.” Translated, his bosses were being paid by the Colonel.

Inside, the walls were cinder block, the air stale with cop sweat and bad coffee. They walked me through booking, skipped the fingerprint, took me straight to a room with gray paint and a mirror so thin you could see the secrets behind it.

I sat. Folded my hands. Waited.

I’d waited before. I could wait again.

And while I waited, I thought about Julie, and about what a man would do to get her back.

The answer was simple.

Anything.

***

Ruiz didn’t come in right away. They left me alone for a half hour, maybe more, just to see if I’d sweat. I didn’t. I let my hands rest flat on the table, left the cuffs on, and stared at the spot on the wall where the paint peeled up like a scab. I let the time stretch.

When Ruiz finally entered, he did it with the same economy he used everywhere else. Sat across from me, set his phone face down, and put a legal pad on the table with exactly one page flipped up.

He didn’t open it. He didn’t need to.

“Where were you last night?” he said, voice flat.

“Here,” I said.

He cocked his head, eyes scanning for the tell. “We have witnesses who saw your bike at Julie’s. Got a plate, even. They even said they saw you through her window.”

“We fucked and talked,” I said. “We parted on good terms.”

He wrote something on the pad, looked up again. “What did you talk about?”

“Her sister. She was upset.”