Sheriff Nathan sat in his office, sweat dripping down his face. If Sheriff Marco investigated that man, he could somehow trace it back to him. If that happened, Nathan's world would turn upside down...
"I have to find him... I have to."
Nathan had to find him, but it seemed impossible. Then he remembered the guy Sheriff Marco was really interested in—the one with the red eyes. He didn't want to get involved with those red eyes, but he had no choice. He buried his face in his hands, frozen in place from stress, unsure of what to do. His hands trembled, and he felt like he was suffocating. Talking to himself:
"Calm down, Nathan... You always get through these things..."
Then he suddenly lifted his head!
"Wait... That red-eyed guy's back—those three claw marks... I think I've seen them before! Yes, yes, yes—I'm absolutely sure!"
Sheriff Nathan remembered seeing claw marks on a kid's back a few days ago when he'd saved him from some thugs. At first, he'd thought, "Must be a mistake."
"He can't be more than 18... Someone so young..."
But that kid was Nathan's only suspect right now. He had no other option but to find him. He thought back—he'd last seen him near Fort Dupont Park. The best way to find him would be through street cameras. That day, Nathan had hailed a taxi for the kid to get home safely. All he had to do was check the camera footage and find out where the taxi went. Standing up with a calmer, more composed demeanor, he muttered to himself:
"I'm going to find that kid."
He quickly left his office and headed toward the elevator, pressing the button. While waiting, he locked eyes with Sheriff Marco.
"I heard you were interested in the tape."
"Yes. I hope that's not a problem?"
Sheriff Marco smiled.
"Of course not! But someone like you... Why would you be interested in something like this?"
Both sheriffs' expressions grew serious. The elevator still hadn't arrived. Sheriff Nathan replied:
"Let me be straight with you, Sheriff. That tape is connected to one of my old cases. I was just curious why you wanted it, that's all."
The elevator doors opened. Sheriff Nathan stepped inside calmly.
"Coming, Sheriff?"
Sheriff Marco said nothing and walked down the corridor. Nathan descended to the ground floor, got in his car, and drove to the place where he'd last seen the kid. When he reached the street, he parked at the corner and got out to check for cameras. He noticed a convenience store with a camera pointing at the spot where he'd put the kid in the taxi. He entered the store and approached the cashier.
"Good afternoon. I'm Sheriff Nathan. Could you show me where your security footage is kept?"
The cashier looked at him with a bit of excitement.
"Sure... But do you have permission for that, Sheriff?"
Nathan pulled out his badge and held it up to the cashier's face with a smile.
"What do you think this badge is for?"
"You're right, sir, but—"
"If I'm right, then show me. Don't worry, I'll just take a quick look."
Despite not having actual permission, Nathan had managed to get into the camera room. Once inside, he sat down in front of the video player and started looking through the tapes, searching for the right date.
"You can go. I'm sure you've got work to do, right?"
"Okay... Just let me know when you're done."
Nathan pulled out his wallet and handed the employee a hundred dollars.
"Take this. This stays between us, understood?"
The employee's eyes lit up at the sight of the money, and he quickly took it.
"Y-Yes, Sheriff... Just between us."
The employee left the room, closing the door behind him and returning to work. Nathan finally found the tape from that day and loaded it into the player. After a brief adjustment, he found the exact moment he needed. He pulled out his notebook and jotted down the license plate number.
"H-374029... Got it. I'm done here."
Nathan put the tape back, wiped his fingerprints clean, and left the room. Just to be safe, he grabbed a drink and a donut, then walked to the register. The cashier rang him up without a word.
"That'll be $3.25."
Nathan smiled and paid.
"Have a good day."
He left the store and walked briskly back to his car, his face set in a serious expression. Getting in, he pulled out his phone and started calling nearby taxi companies. None of them had any leads—until one was left...
"Hello, I need a taxi."
"Yes, but not quite what you're thinking. Do you have a vehicle with the license plate H-374029?"
"Who are you? Why do you need this information?"
"A few days ago, a friend's kid got into a taxi with that plate..."
"And?"
"I know this sounds ridiculous, but... I'm with the kid right now. I'm trying to take him home, but he forgot his address... Can you believe it? He remembered the taxi's license plate but forgot his own address."
While talking on the phone, Nathan flagged down a passing young man and gestured for him to come over.
"If the driver remembers, could you tell me the address?"
"Hmm... I'd have to ask. But first, let me hear the kid's voice."
"Sure, just a moment—he's asleep right now, but I'll wake him up..."
Nathan covered the phone's microphone with his hand, rolled down the window, and called the young man over, holding out a twenty-dollar bill.
"Listen, I'm going to hand you this phone, and you're going to act like you forgot your home address, okay?"
"W-What?"
"Come on, I'll pay you! Who's going to pass this up? Just remember—you're my friend's kid."
He handed the phone to the young man, who hesitated for a moment but, seeing the money, eagerly took the phone and spoke.
"H-Hello...?"
Nathan whispered from behind:
"Act like you just woke up."
The taxi dispatcher began speaking:
"Hello, young man. Sorry to wake you, but I need to confirm something... You forgot your home address and gave the person with you this license plate number, correct?"
The young man spoke in a groggy voice:
"Yeah... I'm kinda forgetful, but luckily I remembered the taxi's license plate..."
Nathan took the phone back from the young man and slipped the twenty into his hand before rolling up the window.
"So, is that all you needed, sir? Will you tell me the address?"
"Sure, just give me a moment..."
The man had bought the lie. All that was left was to wait for the address. Nathan ate his donut and sipped his drink while he waited. A moment later, the dispatcher returned.
"Hello? Here it is."
Nathan set down his drink and half-eaten donut, grabbing his notebook.
"Okay, I'm ready."
"Naylor Gardens..."
Nathan wrote down the address, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
"Perfect. Thank you so much—sorry for the trouble..."
"No problem at all, sir. Our top priority is good service. Have a great day!"
Nathan ended the call, finished his donut and drink, then started the car. Finally, he was heading to his only suspect's house. As he neared the address, he parked at the head of the street and walked toward the house. Standing at the front door, he knocked.
(Knock! Knock! Knock!)
After a brief wait, an adult woman opened the door. Nathan thought to himself, "Must be his mother." He smiled.
"Good afternoon. Do you have a moment? I'm Sheriff Nathan."
"Why are you here? Did something happen to Ethan yesterday?!"
Nathan had finally heard the suspect's name. Feigning ignorance, he probed further.
"Ethan didn't come home yesterday?"
"N-No... He came home last evening, but this morning his window was open and he was gone!"
"Please, stay calm. I'm sure it's nothing serious... Did you go to the station?"
"Yes, but they said we had to wait a certain amount of time before they could do anything!"
"I see... How about we talk inside?"
The mother gestured for him to enter.
"Of course, please come in, Sheriff... My husband is in the living room."
Nathan stepped inside, scanning the house as he walked slowly into the living room. He sat down across from the father.
"Hello... I assume you're Ethan's father?"
"Stepfather, actually. Who are you? Did something happen to Ethan?"
"I'm Sheriff Nathan. I helped Ethan into a taxi yesterday morning and brought him here. He seemed a bit tired..."
Nathan's expression softened slightly.
"Honestly, this isn't part of my official duties, but... your stepson seemed a bit off. I was curious and wanted to check in."
"Check in on what?"
"On your family situation, of course. But I can see you have a lovely home, and you clearly care about your son."
"When I was young, I used to sneak out my bedroom window and not come home for days just to have fun, Sheriff... I know he'll be back soon."
Just then, the doorbell rang. The stepfather smiled at Sheriff Nathan. The stepmother rushed to the door, and voices could be heard:
"Ethan, where have you been?! We were so worried! We thought something happened to you!"
"Mom, I just wanted to hang out with some friends and do something crazy, that's all..."
"Don't you ever do that again! A sheriff came all the way here because he was worried about you—he's sitting in the living room right now. Go."
Ethan heard that a sheriff was in his living room and grew suspicious. But he couldn't run—that would be too extreme of a reaction. He walked into the living room and immediately recognized the sheriff. The sheriff smiled at Ethan.
"Hello, Ethan. I was just asking about you."
"Dad, why is the sheriff here?"
"He was worried about you, son. If you'd like, you two can talk privately."
Nathan smiled.
"Actually, I'd appreciate that. After all, I came here to make sure he's okay."
"Alright then... The kitchen's free."
Ethan hesitantly headed to the kitchen, with Nathan following close behind, a smile on his face. Now they were alone. The sheriff glanced around before speaking.
"Ethan... Why do you think I'm here?"
"I don't know, Sheriff... Why don't you tell me?"
"Alright, then... I remembered those claw marks on your shoulder."
Ethan grabbed his shoulder in shock.
"W-What are you talking about?"
"Two missing sisters... a black BMW... and red eyes... It's you, isn't it?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about..."
Nathan picked up an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table and took a bite.
"Don't worry, I'm on your side... for now, at least. But what I'm curious about is—how does someone with red eyes manage to kill four armed men?"
Ethan spoke quietly but angrily:
"Then shut the hell up, Sheriff. Don't forget—my family's right in the other room!"
Nathan smiled and continued in a quieter tone.
"Ethan... How old are you? Why are you sticking your nose into something like this? Go have fun, be a kid."
"Mind your own business, you psycho sheriff. And how the hell did you find my address?!"
"Calm down, or we're both going to get caught. I'll make this quick—listen carefully."
Ethan swallowed his anger and listened.
"An entire police department task force is looking for you. It's only a matter of time before you're caught. And that guy with you—the one with the black BMW—I did some business with him back in the day. If he gets caught—"
"You're the sheriff who took the amulet and all the money, then bailed, aren't you?"
"Unfortunately, yes... I don't know who that guy is to you, but his face showed up on camera, and he's probably being hunted everywhere right now."
Ethan understood. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms.
"So if he gets caught, your old half-closed case blows wide open... What's your plan, Sheriff?"
"We should talk about this at a better time... Maybe we can work out a nice little alliance."
Nathan scribbled an address on his notepad, finished his apple, tossed it in the trash, and left the kitchen. He returned to the living room.
"I'm heading out now, sir. You really do have a wonderful home... I'm sure Ethan won't do this again."
"Don't be so sure... Even though he doesn't carry my blood, I raised him—I know him... Anyway, Sheriff Nathan, have a good day."
Nathan waved at Ethan one last time with a satisfied expression, then left the house. He got into his car at the head of the street and drove back to the station. Ethan, meanwhile, went upstairs to his room to process everything that had just happened...
End of Chapter 9.