Pray for Rain, Page 3

  “What Warboys couldn’t tell me was if there was anything unusual before the events?”

  “Such as?”

  “Was your daughter acting secretively? Going out more? Or less? Happier than normal?”

  “Why?”

  Grant sighed mentally.

  “I’m trying to get at whether she might have known these men beforehand. A boyfriend you wouldn’t approve of maybe?”

  “She hasn’t run away, Mr. Grant,” she accused.

  “I have to rule it out.”

  “Well then you have. No, she wasn’t acting any differently. She was free from school and wanted to let her hair down for a while. She knows what her future holds, she knows the amount of work that goes into affording the life she is accustomed to.”

  “She visit this club regularly?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’m no saint, Mr. Grant, I know that girls need to get into a little mischief and I leave her to it.”

  Grant nodded. He didn’t like her, but she did seem to be a good mother. For all he knew about such things.

  “She will be joining the family business?”

  “Yes.”

  “She OK with that?”

  “She hasn’t run away,” she stressed.

  Holson came in with the drinks and they sat in silence until he left.

  “What about anything else? Anyone caught snooping around? That kind of thing?”

  “Not that I have heard of. You’d need to talk to our head of security.”

  “OK, cool, I will. What I’m trying to figure out was whether this was planned or of the moment. More so, did these men know who your daughter is?”

  “I doubt that very much,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think those that would, frequent nightclubs like that. And if they did, I would have expected a ransom demand by now.”

  “Yes. I agree,” Grant said and stood.

  She stood with him.

  “I’ll see your security man now.”

  She nodded.

  “Holson will sort it out. Mr. Grant?” her face softened. “I want my daughter back.”

  “That’s what I’m going to do, Mrs Miles,” he said softly and she nodded before angrily flicking away a tear.

  “Wait in the hall. Holson will come and get you.”

  ***

  Holson did indeed come and collect him and took him back outside. As they walked around the house to the security offices Grant tried to question Holson.

  “How about you? You must see pretty much everything, seen anything odd?”

  “Odd, sir?”

  “Yeah. With Veronica. Anything different in her behaviour?”

  “I’m sure that’s not for me to say, sir.”

  “You’re blocking my investigation? Could it be the butler did it?”

  “Sir,” he said aghast. “How could you?”

  “How could you?” Grant shot back. “How can you refuse to help me?”

  “It’s not my job to talk about such things,” he said with obvious hurt.

  “Then nothing’s going to get solved, man.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing what?”

  “Nothing has been untoward. Miss Miles is an adult now, she has been making the most of not being in school, but there is nothing wrong in that.”

  “Nope. But I’m getting the feeling she’s a little wilder than you all would hope.”

  “I never said such a thing,” he protested.

  “No, but it’s in your tone. Mrs Miles’ too.”

  “She is a little wayward, sir,” he sighed and took a quick look around. “Look here, yes, she’s not so interested in joining the family business. She is used to being given all that she wants; she has become entitled and unwilling to work for her keep.”

  Grant looked at the old man. His face showed relief and shame. It had taken a lot to divulge family business.

  “Thank you, Holson,” Grant said and he meant it.

  “Here is the security suite.”

  The building was a one storey long barrack. It was close to the house, but shielded from it by a line of trees and manicured hedges. As they walked around to a break in the hedge a man was striding towards them.

  “You Grant? Follow me, the van’s been found at the space port.”

  “I’ll follow you in my van,” Grant said and took off at a run.

  CHAPTER 4

  “What’s happening?” Gulch asked from the back.

  “Van’s been found at the space port,” Grant said.

  The security truck drove past towards the gates and Grant followed it.

  They arrived to find the local police had taped the area off and were standing around idly. Obviously the Miles’ security had called ahead and told them not to touch anything. Grant was relieved by this, he wanted to see everything exactly as it had been left.

  He jumped out of the van and ran to the Head of Security.

  “Don’t touch anything,” he called as he ran.

  “Now, look here,” the security Head jabbed a finger at him, “we’ve got this, we don’t need you.”

  “Except we’re at the space port.”

  “So?”

  “So if they’ve gone off world then you very much need me.”

  The Head of Security stared at him and then dropped his finger.

  “Kibbe.”

  “Grant. I need to see it exactly as it was left before we touch anything.”

  Kibbe nodded and turned as his van of security officers arrived and bundled out.

  “Go have a look, but you won’t have long. Mr Miles is on his way.”

  Grant nodded and strode over to the taped off van.

  “Let him through,” Kibbe yelled at the police officers.

  Grant ducked under the tape and pulled on a pair of gloves. He smelled the air as he walked around the van and was glad to not smell decay. No corpses.

  Hopefully.

  The cab was clean, very clean, which meant that it hadn’t been a spur of the moment kidnapping. There was no way they could clean the van to this level with four women hostage, not without being noticed. He walked to the back doors and pulled at the handle, it, surprisingly, swung open.

  The inside was clean, but not as clean as the cab. It looked like it had been pressure hosed as he could see where the dirt had been pushed up the walls and slid back down before drying. A quick job. The walls were of note for their soundproofing, Grant knew this type of van and he knew the material that had been attached to the inside walls.

  “Anything?” Kibbe asked from behind him.

  “No,” he stepped aside for Kibbe to look.

  “We checked the flights out, they didn’t leave from here.”

  “No,” Grant shook his head, “I think they just changed vehicles. Professional.”

  “So they’re still on the planet.”

  “Could be. There a dark zone close by?”

  “Not close,” Kibbe shook his head. “Not that type of area.”

  “What?” Grant looked at him with surprise. “All this money?”

  “And all this security. We watch the skies too,” Kibbe said with pride.

  Grant nodded. Of course they did.

  “Listen, Grant, we can’t go too far. Our job is here, protecting the house, the business. You’ll have to deal with the local police.”

  “You don’t sound happy with that, Kibbe.”

  “I’m not,” he frowned. “I can give you two men on the down low. Good men.”

  “Alright. Send them to the nearest dark zone, I want to know what’s around and whether anyone took off from there.”

  “And you?”

  “Back to the start. The nightclub.”

  “We’ve already been there.”

  “And people tend to talk to private security?”

  “No,” he admitted. “And frankly, we’re not trained for this sort of thing.”

  Grant turned back to the van and pulled out a cam
era. He took a photo of the number plate before climbing in and taking more. He scanned the floor and walls, but there was not much to see. He could scan for fibres, but that would just tell him that the girls had been in there and he already knew that.

  “Got a hit on the plate,” Gulch said in his earpiece.

  The photos had gone straight to Gulch’s computer in their van.

  “Van belongs to a shop in the city of PeePardeu. Close enough for them to drive to the nightclub before it got reported, but far enough away not to get recognised,” Gulch told him.

  “Alright,” Grant said to himself as much as to Gulch.

  He walked back towards his van and Kibbe caught step with him.

  “My men have left for the dark zone,” he said.

  “Good,” Grant said and gave him his radio contact. “Get them to get in touch once they’re there.”

  “Keep me in the loop,” Kibbe said.

  “If they’re still close by I’ll hand it off to you, Kibbe,” Grant assured and Kibbe nodded to himself.

  “Bad for us. Breach in security.”

  “Like you said, you’re here to protect buildings and wealth, not people.”

  “Children are our greatest treasure, Mr. Grant,” he said seriously.

  Grant nodded and walked to his van.

  “Mr. Grant? Mr. Grant,” a voice called.

  Grant turned to see a well-dressed man striding towards him.

  “A suit like that in a place like this; Mr. Miles, I must presume,” Grant said.

  “Right you are. Come from the office, traffic can be terrible.”

  “I’m sure,” Grant said noncommittally. Traffic woes should be the last of this man’s, well, woes.

  “What have you got?”

  “Not a lot, I’m afraid.”

  “Well?”

  “Look, Mr. Miles, I don’t like to talk about such things so early. People can read conclusions that aren’t there.”

  To give him his credit, Miles actually thought this through.

  “Right,” he nodded to himself. “Still, I want to know. It’s my money, after all.”

  Grant sighed internally. That was always it, wasn’t it? Money. Who had it, who was spending it and what you could get for it.

  “The van’s stolen rather than custom, but the job’s professional. Makeshift soundproofing put up and taken down, other stuff. That tells us that it was an opportunist job, but a planned one.”

  “What does that mean? To the layman,” he tried a smile.

  “It means they planned to grab people, but didn’t plan on who. This isn’t a kidnapping for ransom.”

  Miles looked around at the space port’s terminal.

  “So they’ve gone off-world?”

  “They didn’t leave from here, no. They’d be caught.”

  “So they’re still here,” Miles said with a little relief.

  “Jumping to conclusions, Mr. Miles.”

  “What? Oh, right you are.”

  “We’re checking nearby dark zones and, I’m afraid, we have to consider they have gone off-world.”

  “Why? And what are dark zones?”

  “Dark zones are illegal entry and exit points for space ships and why? Why do people kidnap young women, Mr. Miles? Is there anywhere like that around here? On this world?”

  Mr. Miles’ face went a shade horrified.

  “I’m sorry, but you asked.”

  Miles sucked in some air and swallowed the lump in his throat. He had gone white.

  “Yes. Yes, I did. I had… I’d just never, well, thought about it. I always thought she’d come back safe and sound. You know? Just a misadventure of youth.”

  “We’re working to make sure she does, Mr. Miles. I’m very good at my job.”

  “Yes. That’s why we hired you, Mr. Grant. Ex-UTN Naval Special Forces, ex-InterG Detective. Very impressive.”

  “Whatever.”

  “But can you?”

  “Find her?”

  “Yes. The Universe is a big place.”

  “You leave your galaxy much?” he asked.

  “Not so much. We have enough solar systems for a lifetime of travel,” Miles said.

  “Right, but the Lampeer Galaxy is an exception with, what? Five solar systems? Most galaxies have one or two inhabitable solar systems and even then only one or two planets that have been colonised. It’s not so big if you know where to look.”

  “Bring her back to us, Mr. Grant. Bring her back.”

  Again Grant just nodded and walked to his van. As he got in he could see Miles talking to Kibbe. Kibbe laid a hand on Miles’ shoulder as Grant pulled away.

  CHAPTER 5

  The nightclub was half full, but the music was thumping and the bar was packed. It was on the other side of the space port and from what Grant had seen when they came earlier this was where all the workers lived. The houses were smaller and more tightly packed together; the neighbourhoods looked and felt rundown. They actually weren’t though. The rich knew that to keep workers in poverty would be to incite hatred, theft and violence; the houses here were much nicer, and bigger, than those in other cities, it was just the contrast.

  Still, this was the seedier side of town, again in contrast to the super rich, and Grant could see why the girls would come here. A bit of adventure, going out of their comfort zone; going where their parents wouldn’t want them to. Hanging out with poorer people was about as edgy as it got for rich kids.

  Grant had tried to meet with the management earlier in the day, before the club opened, but hadn’t had any luck. When they had finally got someone on the phone they were told they would have to come when the club was open. Unsurprisingly, Gulch had opted not to come in, not really his cup of tea. Not really Grant’s either, but they couldn’t both sit in the back of the van and twiddle on computers.

  He had gone there as close to opening as possible and there was already a good mix of aliens in the place, but mainly Humans. Grant didn’t think people like the Miles’ would want to mix with, even be served by, other species.

  The barman was an Oncolutian; beings that had a big slab of body; wide, but seemingly slightly too thin to contain anything, sitting upon short legs. The Oncolutians had decided to scrap any kind of conventional shoulders and instead the arms continued nearly straight upwards to an elbow and then came back down again so that the hands were level with the being’s hips. In all each arm must have been close to 6 feet long and were mightily flexible. This made being a barman the best job for a lazy Oncolutian as they could reach any drink without having to move from their spot.

  He pushed into the bar between an Albertine (sort of monkey/Human hybrid) and a Grey (stereotypical grey coloured alien, big eyes, upside-down teardrop head) so that he was standing right in front of the barman.

  “What?” he asked over the din.

  “These guys,” Grant said over the noise.

  He held up pictures that they had put together from the descriptions Gail had given him. They weren’t great, they weren’t great at all.

  “You finally got some pictures huh?” the barman asked looking at them.

  “They’re not great.”

  “No, they ain’t. Could be any number of Humans that come in here.”

  “You were here the night the girls went missing?”

  “I’ve told you all I know,” he complained. “I got work here, man.”

  “I want to hear it.”

  “Read my statement.”

  Grant looked around, the club was filling up, but it wasn’t that big. He watched a number of people greet others as they wandered about.

  “Small clientele, don’t try and tell me you wouldn’t notice strangers.”

  “I got work,” he said and turned to a waiting customer.

  “This about those girls that went missing, huh?” the Albertine said.

  “Yeah,” Grant turned to him.

  “Let me look at those pictures.”

  Grant handed them to him.


  “They’re not great,” he said.

  “Can you improve on them?”

  “No,” the Albertine shook his head, “But I might know someone who can.”

  “Really?”

  “They weren’t the first. Day before. Other girls went missing. Poor girls though.”

  Grant took his meaning. Nobody had bothered looking into it, nobody had cared.

  “I need help here,” Grant said.

  “Buy a Carute whiskey and Cob and follow me.”

  Grant did what he was asked and found himself at a table in a smaller chillout room, where the music was dulled by the walls. It wasn’t Grant’s idea of a place to chill out, but he assumed that just meant he was getting old.

  “Jonsy,” the Albertine said as they approached a table.

  “Kaskey,” the man replied. He was sitting alone.

  “This man here has brought you a Carute and Cob.”

  “Why?”

  The man looked terrible. Sad. So sad that it was eating him up.

  “Because he wants to talk to you about Rudy’s disappearance.”

  “Since when did the Police care?” Jonsy asked.

  “He ain’t no police.”

  “Looks like police,” Jonsy said suspiciously.

  Grant put the drink down on the table.

  “Don’t think he wants my help.”

  Jonsy eyed him up.

  “What you got?”

  Grant laid the pictures down on the table.

  “They ain’t great,” Jonsy said.

  “Yeah. Ok. I get that.”

  “Alright, alright,” Jonsy said testily.

  “You seen ‘em, Jonsy?” the Albertine, Kaskey, asked.

  “Reckon,” Jonsy replied.

  “Right,” Grant said and sat down. “Tell me.”

  “I’m in love, alright?”

  “But she doesn’t know it,” Kaskey grinned.

  “Yeah, alright. Thanks, Kaskey, I was building up to it.”

  “So?” Grant prodded.

  “So I was gonna ask her, alright? But her and her friends were talking to four guys. I was just working up the courage when they walked over to them. All cocky and jokey, like. Much better looking than your pictures,” Jonsy spilled.

  “Can you improve on the pictures?” Grant asked.

  “You gonna find her?”

  “Rudy? Yeah, if I can. All of them.”

  This seemed to satisfy Jonsy and he looked at the pictures again before giving Grant a much better description, adding lots of details. Grant scribbled it all down.

  “You ever see them before that night?” he asked.

  “Nah,” Jonsy said. “Though I weren’t looking, right?”

  “Right,” Grant agreed.