Hunted Read online

  “It’ll be done.” Vince shook his head upon hanging up. He and the other men weren’t blind to the abuse the little blond guy received from Octorian. They’d seen the bruises. Heard the cries. But hey, Octorian paid them all handsomely to ride security on the grounds. Anything else wasn’t any of their business. If little man was lost, he’d better stay that way.

  Shoving his phone in his pocket, Octorian stalked off in direction of the elevator.

  “Octorian!”

  Pressing the down button, he grind his teeth. This was the last thing he needed. Turning, he plastered a fake smile on his face.

  “Are you leaving?” Prescott asked.

  “Uh yeah. It seems I misplaced my husband.” Luckily the elevator opened and he quickly stepped inside before Prescott could say anything more. On the drive back to the house, Octorian’s mind went over every possibility for Jace’s disappearance. His vehicle pulled up to the decorative wrought iron gate. Vince and Marc met him.

  “Is he here?” Octorian demanded.

  “No.”

  “Shit!” he punched the stirring wheel.

  Vince and Marc exchanged glances. “Uh boss, do you think perhaps he was taken? I mean, it’s not like him to disappear like this.”

  Octorian wanted to believe that. But the man in the bathroom words played on repeat in his head. He claimed to have seen Jace leave out of the banquet room. One didn’t have to leave out of the room to access the restrooms. They were located in an adjourning room. “Yeah, that must be what happened. Get me the police on the phone. I’m going upstairs to change.”

  No sooner he entered the room, Octorian went to the closet and sifted through Jace’s clothes. Nothing was missing that he could tell. He checked his jewelry next. All there. All while he showered and redressed, visions of Jace with another man burned through his mind. He’d better be in dire situation cause if he found out otherwise, Jace would pay. Dearly.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Boss, the police are here.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Octorian descended the stairs to find two detectives waiting in the foyer. “Follow me,” he led them to his private study. “Sorry, my security guys should’ve offered you a seat and something to drink,” he flashed angry eyes towards Vince and Marc.

  They shrugged in union.

  “Uh Mr. Vanderhuff, we were told that you want to file a missing person.”

  “Yes. My husband Jace Vanderhuff, disappeared tonight from a banquet that was given in Buckhead. I want him found.”

  The second cop snickered; these rich folks were a hoot. They expected everyone to jump when they spoke.

  “Mr. Vanderhuff, I’m Detective Joey Magee and this is Detective Aiden McBride. We’ll do our best to locate your husband but first we have to know the full story.”

  His partner flipped his notebook opened. “Do you have a current picture of him?” McBride asked.

  Taking out his wallet, he handed the detective a wallet-sized picture of Jace. After a quick glance, both cops shared a look before turning their attention back to Octorian.

  “Mr. Vanderhuff, are you sure that your husband wasn’t seeing someone else?” Magee flat-out asked.

  McBride winced at his partner’s choice of words. Damn, he could’ve tried a more tactful approach.

  Octorian grind his teeth tightly as red flashed before his eyes. “Detective I don’t care for your assumptions. My husband and I are very happy. Neither of us is or was seeing anyone outside of our marriage. Now if you can’t ask your questions in a more professional manner, then I suggest you leave me your badge number and Captain’s number so that I can have you replaced by someone who can.”

  Magee was about to read him but McBride jumped in. “Sir, you called us. In cases such as these, we try to leave no stone unturned. You say that your husband disappeared from an event that you two attended tonight. Yet we have no body, no ransom letter or threatening calls. We have to cover every possible scenario.”

  “I understand,” he said gruffly.

  “What about stalkers? Maybe someone from his modelling days?” McBride asked.

  “No.”

  “What about family. Do you think he could’ve went to visit them?”

  “No. They weren’t close. In fact they disowned him for being gay. I am all the family he has or needs.”

  “It’s only been a few hours. Perhaps he just needed to clear his mind. Sometime we all need a little down time. He could be at a hotel right now just taking a break from life,” McBride offered.

  “Not possible. I’ve already checked all of the cards and there’s been no purchases made this evening.”

  Magee’s brows went up at those words. “It’s only been what-like 2-3 hours and you’ve already hit the banks. Thorough.”

  Octorian’s cheeks reddened and he narrowed his eyes at Magee. He didn’t care for this man at all.

  When he didn’t respond, Magee continued. “Mr. Vanderhuff, are you behind your husband’s disappearance?”

  Jace exited the train in Virginia. From there he took a plane to New York City. The flight was roughly an hour and ten minutes, seeing as it was non-stop. This erratic plan of travel was done so to throw anyone off his track who may be looking for him.

  Namely, Octorian.

  As he walked out of LaGuardia, he grabbed a yellow cab and took it to Hell’s Kitchen.

  “Son,” the cabby said as he looked at Jace via the rear view mirror. “You sure you wanna come to these parts? It’s kinda rough around here.”

  Jace looked up at the brick building in-which the vehicle was parked in-front of. The building was draped in various forms of graffiti while prostitutes aligned the corner. While researching his escape, Jace searched online and watched several movies about the big city. Everything about life on the lam, hinted that in order to disappear, one needed to seek shelter in a place where people mind their own business. Such places seemed to be in more less desirable neighborhoods.

  Looking out of the window, Jace sighed and clinched his backpack tighter in his hands. After paying the cabby, he climbed from the vehicle and quickly entered the building. Inside the lobby was an old checkin station with a woman, who looked to be in her fifties, sitting in a chair behind it. Sitting in a folding chair near an old cracked soda machine, was an old guard who resembled Otis from the sitcom Martin.

  “What do you want?” the lady asked.

  For a moment Jace was taken aback. Wow, rude much.

  “Uh, I’d like to rent an apartment.”

  “For how long?”

  “Uh, maybe a few months.”

  “Rent is 500 a month. Due the 1st of each month. No hanky panky and no drugs. If the police come here looking for you, you’re out. Don’t want no trouble here.”

  “Uh, I’ll pay for three months upfront,” Jace said as he turned and pulled out the money. Turning back to her, he noticed she laid out a rental agreement and pen on the desk. As he filled out the paperwork, the woman’s beady little eyes stared at him.

  “Ya got Id?” she asked suddenly.

  Swallowing hard, Jace reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, all the while praying that the false identification worked.

  He slid the plastic card across the desk.

  The woman stared at it for a full three minutes before nodding.

  “I’m Mary Fletcher. Here’s your key. There’s clean linen and towels. Basic cable and the phones are local calls only. Any long distance calls and it’ll be added to your next month’s rent.”

  Jace nodded, grabbed his key and headed for the elevator. He found his unit easily enough, 5D. The efficiency apartment was made up of one large room, a kitchenette and full bathroom. Each room came with a queen-size bed, 35 inch flat-screen television and pull out couch with a bed. From the outside of the building, one would’ve suspected that the inside would’ve been just as bad. The woman must’ve taken decent care of the place. For that, he was happy. He knew he had to do what he must in his cur
rent situation. But damn, he was glad that he didn’t have to live in a roach motel. Jace discarded the wig and headed for the shower. Now dressed in a T-shirt and boxers, he sat on the bed contemplating his next move.

  If looks could kill. Octorian looked like he was ready to have a coronary. He actually broke the pen he was holding in his hand. “No Detective, I am not responsible for my husband’s disappearance. The fact that I called you people here to find him…should state the obvious,” he growled.

  Before Magee could utter another insulting word, McBride stood. “Mr. Vanderhuff, we’ll get on this right away. We’ll contact you if we discover anything. If you hear of anything, please call.” He laid his card out on the desk.

  “Oh um, we’ll have to follow up with the people at the event as well as speak with neighbors, friends, etc. It may be best if you alert them first that we’ll be coming around. Wouldn’t want to…embarrass you,” Magee added.

  Octorian stared at Magee until he vanished from his office. Jace was going to pay for this when he caught up to him. Picking up the phone, he summoned Vince and Marc.

  “Yeah boss?”

  “Did the cops get off alright?”

  “Yes, they’re gone.”

  “Alright. I want you two to make sure that no one gets on the property without checking with me first. Make sure to brief the others that they aren’t to talk to anyone concerning my marriage.”

  “Sure thing boss.”

  Once Octorian retired to his room, Marc asked Vince, “What are your true thoughts as to little man’s disappearance?”

  “Either two things. Octorian killed him and stashed the body or he ran away. If it’s the latter, I hope wherever he is, he’s hidden well.”

  Upstairs Octorian paced the length of his room. How dare he! How dare he do this! Make a fool of him this way. He could see the accusation in the detective’s eyes. Even his men were looking at him oddly. He was no fool. The need of their weekly pay was all that kept their mouths shut. Finally he sat down and took out his phone. One call later and he was speaking with Prynce Stevenson, P.I.

  “What do I owe the pleasure of this call? Prynce asked.

  “I need you to find someone.”

  “Consider them found. Shoot me all the information, name, recent picture, family history, etc.”

  Within minutes Octorian sent him the information in a text message.

  “The target’s your husband?” Prynce asked surprisingly.

  “Yeah and I want him back.”

  “So once I locate him, you want me to extract him and bring him home?”

  “No. Once you locate him, I want all the information you have. Then I’ll tell you how we’ll proceed.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Octorian disconnected feeling a sense of achievement. Jace might think that he’s won this little game of his. In all actuality, it was Octorian who held the trump card.

  Laying back on the bed, he smiled at the ceiling. You can run, little Jace but you can’t hide.

  3

  Jace jerked out of his dream. He’d been reliving a nightmare, a previous beating from Octorian. Sitting upright on the bed, his breath was labored. He was drenched in sweat. With wide eyes, he scanned the darkened areas of the room looking for Octorian to jump out. It took a full moment for him to realize that he was no longer in that hell. Dragging himself from the bed, he headed for the small bathroom. There was no use in him trying to go back to sleep at this point. Instead, he showered, dressed then sat on the bed and mapped out a plan. He needed to work.

  That was a given.

  Though he still had a nice nest egg left, he wanted to use it for reserve if he should have to make a quick escape.

  In order to get a job, he’d need Id.

  Octorian had been anal about him keeping himself properly groomed. Therefore three times a week he visited House of Shea Spa.

  His visits to the exclusive spa had been the only unsupervised outings Octorian approved. He demanded that Jace received the very best of bodily care. He wanted him void of all hair, save for his head. At first, Jace thought he simply loved running his hands through his blonde mane. He soon found out that the real reason he didn’t want it cut, was so that he could use it for torture, pulling it as he dragged him up the stairs.

  Luckily he learned how to keep himself groomed during intervals between treatments. Therefore when he first began entertaining the notion to escape, he’d wax himself and skipped the treatment one day per week, to visit the library and do research. He feared using the computer at the house knowing Octorian could keep tabs on what sites he visited.

  When thoughts of escape began to form into a plan, Jace had entertained ideas of cutting his hair, dyeing it and taking on a whole new identity. But later he decided against it. His research and a tip from Travon, his hairdresser, cemented his idea to get lost in a big city instead of a quiet town. Travon told him that he had a cousin named Weasel who operated out of Manhattan. He’d told him Weasel was the one to see if you ever wanted to go off grid. He had the hook-ups to all types of illegal connections on the streets. Though this frightened Jace as he’d never done anything against the law more than jaywalking, he knew he had to take a chance. To survive. The way he figured, he’d rather take the chance on the streets of New York than another blow from Octorian’s fist.

  As he sat on the bed’s edge contemplating his next move, Jace pushed a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear. When he’d tinkered with the idea to cut his hair off, he’d thought about his grandmother. She’d loved his hair. After all, he’d gotten it from her. Too bad she died when he was a teenager. She was the only someone who didn’t judge him about being gay. She said he was just her little beautiful grandbaby.

  Wiping a lone tear from his cheek, Jace squared his shoulders and took a dep breath. Now was not the time to be falling apart. If he were to make a go at his new life, he’d have to secure employment. Rubbing a hand over his leather wallet, he could feel the edges of the plastic false identification. He’d gotten lucky with the woman at the front desk.

  Inhaling another breath of Octorian-free air, he wondered what his tormentor was doing at this very moment. By now the man had to have realized that Jace had left him.

  He shuddered.

  The knowledge of what Octorian would do to him, should he find him, sent cold shards of fear racing through his veins.

  By10am, Magee and McBride were questioning the staff at the Chevaliare Hotel. They accessed the security tapes and got a half-way clear image of a man fitting Jace’s description leaving the building via the ground level exit. It appeared he was running from something. Or someone.

  “Maybe he was running from kidnappers?” McBride said.

  “Mm, more like he was running away from an asshole husband,” Magee said sarcastically.

  McBride laughed. “You really don’t like the man, do you?”

  “No. He rubs me the wrong way.”

  “So what are your guts telling you about the missing husband?”

  “That he is in grave danger should his rich husband find out where he’s at.”

  “Man, you don’t pull no punches do you?”

  “No. I call’em like I see’em and I don’t trust that Vanderhuff character.”

  “So, where do you want to go from here?”

  “We have to treat this like any other case. The law requires that we find this man. So, we find him. Our next step is to cover the travel ways.”

  As they walked through the garage to their car, a security guy came running at them. “Hey!”

  Both men turned, hand on gun.

  “This was found in the staircase,” he handed them a black phone in a clear plastic bag.

  “Thanks.”

  “How likely is it that this is the missing husband’s phone?”

  “Mm, another piece of the puzzle I’ll bet,” Magee said.

  “Come on, let’s drop this off to be analyzed before hitting the train, plane and bus stations.”

&nb
sp; By 12 noon, Octorian was at defcon 3. He was beyond pissed that no one contacted him with any information as to Jace’s location as of yet. Sitting in his office at his desk, Octorian was tossing darts at the bull’s eye pad across the room. Suddenly his phone rang. Hopefully this is some good news about Jace, he thought to himself as he reached for the phone. “Vanderhuff,” he answered.

  “Octorian, this is Prescott Carrington. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad moment. My secretary informed me that two detectives called demanding to speak with me as to the disappearance of your husband. I know you made a quaint remark the other evening about losing him but I had no idea this was a serious matter. The detective I spoke with, a Magee, made it sound as if he suspects you. I know this is a terrible moment for you but my firm has to pull out of the deal for the time being. At present, I just can’t afford to be associated in a scandal of any sort. Once this matter blows over, please feel free to resubmit your proposal. I do hope that you understand.”

  Octorian was so mad, his vision was blurred for a few seconds. Oh Jace was going to pay for this. Him and that snarky detective. Once Carrington pulled out of the investment deal, you can bet your last dime that everyone else would pull out soon after. He could be ruined in no time flat.

  Snatching up the phone he dialed Prynce’s number. “Have you started on the case?” he demanded, not taking the time to properly greet the man.

  “Good afternoon to you too and yes, I have. I am currently at the Chevaliare Hotel speaking with staff members. It seems two detectives were already here and left with a cell phone in which someone found in the staircase. Also there’s a not-to-clear picture of what could be Jace, exiting from a ground floor door.”

  So the little prick did leave on his own, Octorian thought. “Give it to me straight. At this point, what are your professional thoughts?”

  Prynce took a deep breath. “Just remember, you asked me.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “It looks like he left you. And if that’s the case, then this wasn’t a spare-of- the-moment decision. There was thought process put into this. He chose the right time and place to disappear. Which means he’s been planning this for a while now.”