Dark Creations: The Hunted (Part 4) by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci Page A

soldier’s stare.  To the contrary, she engaged him in conversation.
    “Hi. My name is Melissa and I was wondering if you could help me,” she began. “My Aunt Maggie, she lived in Arizona and was around five months pregnant when she disappeared.  I read in the paper that your wife was pregnant when she disappeared also.  I’d like to talk to you about it, see if there are any similarities.”
    He needed little provocation and unleashed a diatribe that was neither aimed directly at her nor particularly cruel. 
    “Are you fucking kidding me?  Sorry about your Aunt but I can’t help you!” Jack snapped.  “My wife was kidnapped by two cops.  I doubt we can compare notes on that one, sweetheart.”
    “But,” Melissa began but was cut off by Jack.
    “Just leave,” he ordered Melissa.
    She turned to go and Gabriel approached him, surprising both himself and the others.
    “I just want to ask you one question before I go, and it may seem like a weird one.  But I promise if you answer it, we’ll leave you,” Gabriel attempted.
    His request seemed to enrage the soldier.  “I don’t have anything to say to you!  Now get the hell out of here!”
    “Just one question,” Gabriel persisted.
    “Mind your fucking business and write you little high school report, or whatever it is you’re doing, about someone else, and leave me alone!” he screamed and his face turned an unhealthy shade of red.
    A hush befell the bar.  Gabriel knew that if he didn’t just blurt out his question immediately, they would leave and never know the answer.  But Sergeant Downing was livid and belligerent and about to lose his temper.
    “Were the cops that took your wife, were they ridiculously good looking,” he managed and cringed, certain that a blow to the face would follow.
    But Jack did not lash out verbally or physically.  Instead, he remained motionless, unblinking then asked, “What did you just say?”
    Gabriel had seen this type of dramatic question asked when a man is about to get pummeled by another in movies.  He did not want to fight Jack, just get an answer.
    “Were the cops good looking, like better looking than an actor or something?”
    “What, like you, pretty boy?  Why?” Jack asked flatly.
    “Because I’m willing to bet they were,” Gabriel replied in the same tone and sat in the barstool beside Jack.
    Gabriel was about to press the man after seeing the distinct flicker of recognition register in his features.
    “They were, weren’t they?” Gabriel asked.
    “Look, I don’t usually notice how other guys look or anything.  Half the time I don’t even look at myself, let alone the guys around me.  But these guys, these cops that came to the house and took Dawn, they were better looking than the guys on all the billboards I passed coming home.  In fact, I think that’s what I found so off about them when I opened the door.”
    Gabriel could tell that Jack was having a difficult time sharing what he knew, what he’d seen, with him.  He seemed reluctant and wary, but lucid.  He did not present himself as the person who was depicted in the newspaper, as a man deluded and damaged by years of combat.  He seemed keen and perceptive.  These aspects of his personality, along with his conviction, his sincerity, would not have gone unnoticed by others had he not seemed so determined to become a drunkard.  And since his recent commitment to consuming as much alcohol as the bartender would allow, he’d validated their claims.
    “Were they wearing uniforms?” Gabriel asked.
    “It’s like I told the police, they were wearing plain black jackets over their uniforms.  I assumed they were police-issue as well, and that those guys were town cops.  Why would I think otherwise?” Jack asked dejectedly then took a long swig of his drink.
    “Show him the pictures,” Melissa urged Gabriel.
    “Pictures?  What pictures?” Jack asked.
    “We downloaded staff pictures of the Pine Valley Police