Michael and Chen converse in the apartment for several minutes before walking back out to the street. The two also continue to carry on outside for a time before parting ways.
A woman in an old Trans Am was sitting across the street watching the two men interact. The big guy in the black t-shirt was new, she wasn’t exactly where he fit into everything yet.
Kun is someone she has been keeping tabs on since Keung vanished with Deagol years ago. The old man was always a crafty one and once he was able to locate the boy, he took Keung with him into the ether that he had always seemed to lurk within.
She was a muscular white woman with broad shoulders and a taste for the style of the 80s. She wore a white t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve, with a pair of faded blue jeans, and greased back short blonde hair. She watched the two men part ways and enter their perspective vehicles.
“Did you find a new friend Kun?” She asked to the air.
“What does your friend know?” She continued aloud and entered traffic right after Michael pulled away. She followed the new character in this drama. She needed to know if this man knew where Keung was hiding. She reached over and turned on the radio, Three Dog Night continues playing from where the tape last left off.
♫‘bout scare me half to death/
Open up the window sucker/
Let me catch my breath♫
The radio played as the woman lit a new cigarette with her old, tossing the butt out the window into the street.
Michael dialed Robert’s number in the phone and turned on his bluetooth headset. It rang twice before Robert’s voice came over the earpiece.
“Hey, Mike. Man, I’m sorry. It has been a week buddy,” Robert said in answer.
“Where are you?” Mike asked bluntly.
“It’s not important. Look, there is some shit here that is way over level ten and I am trying to get my head around it. I’m sure it looked like I slid off my cracker man, but I am fine. There isn’t anything for you to be worried about. That being said, I need you to bury this.” Robert said, knowing he was sounding like a lunatic but not really seeing another choice.
“Robert. The kid’s dad is here looking for you. He thinks you know where the boy is. He’s right of course, but I can’t tell him that his little boy has been found and where he can find him because my friend is asking me to bury it for some unknown reason that I need to just trust him on.” Michael said in a frustrated tone.
“His dad?” Robert replied.
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“That’s your take away? Yeah man, Kun Chen. He left you a note. Robert. That kid has been missing for years. His dad has been looking for him for nearly a decade, he isn’t going to just go away.” Michael said sympathetically but with obvious irritation in his voice.
“Look man. I really can’t go into this right now. I need to go. I will keep you in the loop and check in soon.” Robert said and suddenly hung up, likely to avoid being traced Michael figured, another bad sign.
He had parked in front of his house in Camarillo nearing the end of the call. He was busy, frustratedly staring at his phone when someone walked up to his passenger side window trailing the heavy scent of a cigarette with them.
Michael looked up at the woman, her white t-shirt tucked into her pants and a handgun resting in the belt. Michael thought nothing of the firearm at all, it was as if he couldn’t see it right before his eyes.
The woman squatted down, looked into the window, and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the car at Michael.
“Hello Michael, my name is Morgaine, I wonder if you might have a little time to answer a few questions for me?” she asked through the window.
“Of course. What’s this about?” he replied in a friendly and cheerful manner.
“Kun Chen, Keung Chen, and the apartment you were just at,” Morgaine replied dripping with pure confidence, a grin across her face as she smiled with the cigarette tight between her lips.
“I see,” Michael replied with a happy bounce to his voice.
Morgaine opened Michael’s door and motioned for him to get out.
“Could we speak somewhere a little more private?” Morgaine asked in the continued friendly tone.
Michael stepped from his car without question and led the way to his door, unlocking it and inviting the woman in with a nod.
Morgaine followed Michael into the house, a large living room with a soft, mixed teal and green carpet welcomed her first steps into the home. An overstuffed tan couch was just to the right, a loveseat of the same style sat beside it with a coffee table between making an “r” pattern netting people in the room once they entered. The large plasma television hung on the wall across the set with a recliner to the right of that.
There was a fireplace just across from the loveseat and a long coffee table between. It wasn’t a bad layout. Morgaine thought a pair of bookshelves would be a nice addition to either side of the TV and would complete what the man was going for. She would suggest a pair of plants as well. Something to bring it all back down to Earth.
“Nice house,” she said to the still and silent man. “Do you live alone?”
“No. My wife and kids are still outl,” he replied cheerfully.
“Oh good!” Morgaine beamed. “I love company and all, but we have a lot to talk about and honestly, not all of it will be pleasant.”
A soft chuckle left Michael’s lips but his eyes were starting to well up.
Morgaine walked past the couches, running her hand across the material, and through a stone archway that led into the dining room with the kitchen just beyond. There was a painting of the family on the wall over by the table: Michael, his wife, a young girl, and a younger boy. His wife was a young tall blonde, she seems like she enjoys being active, probably a lot of gym class as well. Or maybe a tennis instructor type. The daughter was maybe twelve and doesn’t look like the rebellious sort, at least not in the painting. No she was more the Bible studies and band type. Blonde, likely tall as the case with both parents. She takes after her mom though, Morgaine thought.
“Thank God.” Michael said and chuckled mechanically.
The boy was tough, olive skinned like his dad and with a crew cut. The boy’s brown eyes, similar to his mother and brown hair from his father make him an interesting combination, Morgaine thought.
“He’s my pride and joy.” Michael said seeing Morgaine staring at his son.
Morgaine pulled her cigarette from her lips and slowly moved it to the painting. The oil started to smoke over Michael’s wife’s face.
“Michael. What do you know of Keung Chen?” Morgaine asked in a dark and menacing tone.