Page 8 of Mister Prick

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve got a permanent shitty look on your face.”

“It’s not shitty,” he said. “It’s serious.”

“Seriously shitty.”

I stepped to the side and walked around the front of the car. Although I couldn’t see him, I felt his eyes attached to my ass as I walked away.

I opened the passenger door and got inside. After positioning my feet amongst the piles of one-hundred-dollar bills, I looked at Vince. “Do I really get to keep that money?”

“Unlike Marty, I pay my bills.” He shifted the car into reverse and glanced over his right shoulder. “You promised to follow me and keep your mouth shut. Assuming you’re good for your word, the money’s yours.”

Saying anything about what happened would certainly sever my professional relationship with Vince, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do.

But, I was a girl.

And, girls are curious creatures.

“So, what exactly is it that you do, Vince?”

His eyes shifted to me and then back to the road. After an awkward moment of silence, he responded. “I dabble in a few different…” He paused and peered out the corner of the windshield before continuing. “Industries.”

“Industries?” I chuckled.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I found it humorous that he pulled a gun on a hippy surfer and charged him eighty thousand dollars interest – after kidnapping him – and then described it as ‘working in an industry’.

“What industry were you working in when Marty stiffed you for two hundred grand?” I asked.

“Amongst other things, I have a knack for finding people. I found someone for him.”

It was an interesting facet of his profession. I was curious as to what else he might be involved in, but feared asking. I glanced at his worn leather bag and wondered what – besides money, guns and handcuffs – he kept inside.

“A girl?” I asked. “You found a girl, and then he lost her again?”

He nodded. “Sounds about right.”

The thought of it all made him more interesting, if that was even a possibility. “So, amongst other things, people hire you to find people that can’t be found?”

“They have, yes.”

I found it slightly humorous that Vince found the unfindable, yet he obviously couldn’t find a man who owed him two hundred grand.

“Are you good at it?”

“I like to think I am.”

“Why couldn’t you find Marty?”

He laughed a dry laugh. “I told him the common mistakes people make when they try to hide. Apparently, he applied everything he learned.”

“What mistakes do people make?”

“They use bank cards. Credit cards. They buy airline tickets. Bus tickets. They use their passport. They fail to delete their social media accounts. They take their cell phones with them. Hell, those things can be tracked even when they’re off.”

“Oh wow,” I said. “If someone wants to truly hide, they should drive to an area away from friends and family, stay off their social media accounts, and leave their cell phone elsewhere?”

“Ditch the phone and delete the social media accounts. Leaving them active lets someone like me find out who their close friends are.”