The basement is quiet for what seems like an eternity after the mention of Hannah, even with Oisin’s hopeful words. Before anyone has the chance to break the silence he steps forward and tosses an issue of the Philadelphia Inquirer on the table that has a small article circled in red pen. It reads:
[B]Repeat Offender Eludes County Police[/B]
Percy Picket continues to evade police after being released from Riverside Correctional Facility late August. He has been convicted multiple times as a sex offender but according to police is not a violent man. He was last seen in early October in Philadelphia but has failed to report to his parole officer since. Anyone who has seen Picket is urged to call the police immediately.
A photo is included at the bottom of the article:
“Now, I’m not saying it’s anything yet, but the times sort of seem to fit together,” Oisin says, his shotgun still over his shoulder. “It’s a long shot but at least it’s a start. Does anyone have any ideas where to start looking or what to do next?”
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Her mother shoots her a quick glare and the teen quiets down.
Only here because I wouldn't shut up. I can help, mom.
Brent turned to see Hank scratching the head of a dog that kept looking around the room nervously.
"You aren't though. Because narcs don't come looking for a guy like... what's his name, Picket? Not violent my ass. He'll be worse than when he went in. He's scared now, and pissed off. He's not going to hide for long. A guy like that never stops in one place much... but you can't throw a rock in Philly without hitting a scumbag. I got ten bucks says me and the dog here can find him."
"Go up, thou bald head." -2 Kings 2:23
He sets the paper back down and begins to fiddle with his rather expensive looking watch. "A rotten character, certainly, I'm just wondering if he's likely to have taken them. The children, I mean."
The dog whined a bit from under the table.
"I didn't name him, by the way."
Hank paused to shake a cigarette from his pack of Lucky Strikes.
"Anyway, I like how you're thinking. What kinda screening do they do before a guy comes into Red Cross for that sorta thing?"
"If he walked in off the street to a church or community center," Brent began,"they ask for a valid ID and take your temp, blood pressure, pulse, and a drop of your blood to make sure you have enough iron to give. You fill out a questionnaire that asks you things like 'Have you ever paid for sex with a gay monkey in Nigeria?', but we don't make them run on a treadmill or turn and cough."
"After the blood's collected, it's tested to make sure they didn't lie about having any blood-borne diseases, and then it's divided into the components of red cells, platelets and plasma and stored until it's delivered to a hospital."
Brent looked around and felt a bit sheepish. He hadn't meant that to be a delve into the inner workings of his job.
"Anyway, like they say on the TV shows, blood's really hard to get out without some heavy duty cleaner and a lot of time and scrubbing."
"That's a good start, buddy. Anyone else got some ideas while we're in the information gathering business?"
"Go up, thou bald head." -2 Kings 2:23
Adam rubs his chin and leans back again. "I, hh, I just figure we need to know exactly what, or who, we're hunting, as it were."
"Go up, thou bald head." -2 Kings 2:23
Hank lit his cigarette and tried to be a bit more helpful.
"Look, I'm a security guard... it's why I know about some of this stuff. Maybe you can all go to an internet cafe and put your heads together. I'll go swipe a few cans of mace and meet you there. At least then everyone has a real basic level of protection."
"Go up, thou bald head." -2 Kings 2:23
Hank leans down to Caleb and scratches him behind the ear.
"That's right buddy. You ready to go?"
Calebs ears stood up at the word go. It usually meant getting to ride in a car.