The idiot had thought staying in a shitty road motel would help him hide. From me. As if tracking the movements of his credit cards was that hard. As if he didn't have a tracker on his car.
I waited outside the place until he left. Then went in. The kid at the reception desk immediately provided me with a room number and a spare key upon seeing my ID card. I rushed there. It was still early, but I wanted to cause a good impression, and that meant I could use all the time I had.
Mrs. Petrov was white as I opened the door. “Who... who the hell are you?”
I showed her my ID card. “I'm investigating the disappearance of Mr. Petrov's son, Miss. I would like you to come with me, to a safer place. Also, ask you some questions, see if you can help me piece this puzzle together.”
She immediately relaxed. That ID card does wonders, I swear. For those who don't notice what department it is from, anyway. The agency is overall a respected institution. My department, not as much. She came to my car without giving it a second thought.
She seemed to realize something was off as we reached her neighborhood. “Mister, this is... where exactly are we going?”
I stopped the car at a red light for a little too long as I slightly opened my jacket, revealing the inner pocket's contents. A gun.
She froze, painfully aware of her mistake.
I smiled and winked at her. “Don't try to do anything stupid, Miss. It won't work.”
We arrived at their house by 11.30 am. Good, I had more than enough time to get everything ready.
“Miss. You'll walk straight into the house. Don't try to do anything stupid, like running away, because it will have consequences. Understand?” I patted my inner pocket.
“Y-yes.” She stuttered.
“You may be tempted to call the police, but I already told you who I am. The police won't help you get out of this, believe me.”
She started sobbing. “Do you at least know where my son is?”
I tried hard to not laugh in her face, but damn was it hard. “You'll see him in a moment, Miss.” I winked an eye at her. “Now, I'm opening that door for you. Let me repeat it. You'll walk straight into the house. Don't try anything. Or else. Any questions?” And so, I got out of the car and opened her door.
She rushed inside the house. Too scared of what could happen if she didn't.
I opened the car's trunk. Mr. Petrov's son was there, sobbing pathetically under the gag. I drew a knife and cut the binds in his feet.
“Hey. We're there. Let's go. Come on.” I harshly pulled him out of the trunk from his arm.
He sobbed even more pathetically when he saw we were at his house. I tugged at him. There was nobody around, but still I didn't want him to draw attention.
Mrs. Petrov started whimpering and babbling when she saw the boy. I threw him towards her, so they both would have something to do. Meanwhile I set up the camera, and wrote one last message on the wall. They completely ignored me, too focused on assessing each other's state. Good.
I checked my phone once I had readied everything. Mr. Petrov and the young cop were already outside the shack. Time for the show to start. I unlocked the shack's door. Let Mr. Petrov know what had been of the thugs he had talked to. He would have to thank me for that one, those people could be even more of a headache than me. Then turned on the cam. Let them read the last message. “They're dead.”
