Part 2 is here bitches. Enjoy <3
Dos
"One venti dark roast double shot vanilla latte with almond milk, whipped cream, and caramel drizzle!"
Luke doesn't raise his eyes from his phone as the barista hands him his drink, tucking the receipt and change into a random pocket of his sweatshirt.
He was close to finding her.
Luke had to admit that he was a little more than surprised when he found out that Mr. Colmenarez's subject was a girl. Nora Wilford, a five-foot-two-inch tall, twenty-five year old woman that had fallen off the face of the Earth before her eighth birthday. Her parents were average, an attorney secretary and mediocre entrepreneur that currently lived in the suburbs of some small, unimportant town in Indiana. She had been reported missing while visiting family with her parents in Diboll, Texas, and no leads had been found since her disappearance. She had vanished without a trace, at least for a little while.
About three years ago, her name resurfaced close to her parent's home in Indiana. She had used an anagram of her name in a motel and at a car rental place. Days later, the rental car was found totaled and in flames in the motel parking lot. No remains were found, but the amount of ash within the vehicle had labeled the findings as inconclusive.
Inconclusive his ass.
It had been hard, but Luke had managed to trace the form of payment that she had used to purchase the rental and motel, which she continued using on a wild cross country trip that was surely meant to confuse anyone that happened to be following her. But even so, he couldn't find where the brat was coming up with the money, as the card she was using provided no name holder or provider. It didn't trace back to a bank, or even to a private account. She must have been pulling money out of various untraceable, anonymous accounts and placing them on the card. It was the strangest, most interesting thing that Luke had uncovered in years. Even the transactions seemed to not make any sense. Random amounts spent on items that were listed as 'unknown'. It would have taken some serious skill to put a lock on the information the card processed with each transaction. Still, Luke was able to follow her money trail from Indiana all the way to the West Coast, going through to the Texas-Mexico border, and then all the way back to the East Coast. She seemed to never stay in a place for more than a few days, or have anyone with her to slow her down.
Luke followed her trail like a hound.
Hours ago, Luke had gotten a signal from her card that she had paid for an apartment above a hideous hipster coffee shop in Philadelphia under the name of Thelma Louis. Really original stuff, he had to admit. He had suspected that she would only be in the area for a few days at most, as her habits had indicated, which is how he found himself in The Daily Grind Coffee House, ordering an outrageously priced beverage. It was time to get the show on the road.
He made a show of sipping at his coffee leisurely, his eyes taking turns between scouting the faces of the customers walking in and out of the shop and reviewing the security footage of the apartment hallways that sat above him on his phone. He hadn't been given a photo of Ms. Wilford, as there were none of her besides those of her as a child. He only knew that she was a petite blond with hazel eyes, and a small birthmark shaped like a lima bean below her left ear on her neck. Between the description provided for him and using her missing child's photos, Luke had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Besides, he had gone on far less before.
He planned to attack tomorrow night, just as she was getting comfortable in her newly arranged digs. Now, all he had to do was wait for his prey to make her appearance, and then it would all be over in a few hours. Get the girl, drive her to the matador, and then retrieve the rest of his earnings. He almost drooled at the thought of adding more Ben's to his collection. Those dirty, sexy Ben's.
