Deception Read Online Free

I sigh before making my way down the hallway and starting the shower. Maybe I should just fly to California and track her down myself. California’s not that big, right?
     
    ---
 
    It’s July already and the morning is humid and sticky. I sit at the table, eating breakfast while reading the newspaper as I prepare for another day of working for The Man. I have to leave in fifteen minutes, but my enthusiasm is at an all-time low this morning. I dreamt about her last night, so I’m feeling a little down today. I’d much rather sit around and mope.
    As I scan through the daily business news, I can hear my phone ringing in the other room. It’s quite unusual for someone to be calling me this early in the morning, so I make my way down the hallway and into my room to where my phone is being charged to check it out. It’s an unregistered number. I shake my head in disgust and assume it’s probably another telemarketer. I let it ring. Almost immediately, it rings again. It’s another unregistered number, probably the same one as before. I pick it up this time.
    “Hello.”
    “Is this George Sanders?” says an unfamiliar male voice on the other end.
    “Yeah, who’s this?”
    “Do you know an Alicia Diaz?
    “Who is this?”
    “Do you know an Alicia Diaz?
    “Who the hell is this?
    “Do you know an Alicia Diaz?”
    “Tell me who this is.”
    “If you know an Alicia Diaz, meet me at Josie’s Bar and Pub in thirty minutes.”
    “What the hell is going on? How did you get this number?”
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    Click.
    “Hello? Hello?” I pull the phone away from my ear and look at it, then I return it to its original position. “Hello?”
    The male voice on the other end is gone.
    I spend the next few minutes pacing back and forth, thinking. What should I do? Is she in trouble? Do I even care? Do I want to get involved? I try to tell myself to think rationally about the situation, but my decision is obvious. My entire body is overwhelmed with the rush of emotion. I grab my keys, run out the door, and slide into my Honda Civic. I speed out of the driveway and head toward the interstate. I hit speed dial two. Bob, the manager of the bank that I work in, answers after the first ring.
    “Hello,” Bob says.
    “Hi, Bob?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Hi, Bob, it’s George. I won’t be in today.”
    “What do you mean? We have that meeting with the Joneses.”
    “I’m know, I’m really sorry. Ask them to reschedule, something has come up.”
    He notices my frantic tone. “Jeez, George, is everything alright?”
    “I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later though, okay?”
    “George, but-”
    I hang up, cutting him off. I toss the phone on the seat next to me and loosen my tie. I merge my way onto the interstate in the direction of Josie’s Bar and Pub, a local hot spot.
    I arrive at the bar twenty-eight minutes later. The parking lot is almost empty besides a couple of cars at the far end, which likely belong to the employees. I hurry up the sidewalk to the front door, ignoring the closed sign in the window. My shoulder jams as I yank on the locked door handle.
    What the hell?
    I shade my eyes as I try to peek inside, but I see nothing. I try the door on the left, then the double doors at the same time, but neither will budge. “Hello?” I yell out to no one as I knock on the glass. I glance at my watch: It’s been thirty-one minutes since the call. The sign on the door says the bar doesn’t open for another hour. I turn to the parking lot, scan, and still see no one. With nothing left to do, I make my way back to the Civic.
    As I approach it, a loud hum of squealing tires catches my attention to my right. A large white van rolls into the parking lot at a high rate of speed, nearly flipping on its side. The driver speeds toward me and slams the brakes to the pavement, spinning the van 270 degrees. The two back doors stare me in the face as the van comes to a stop. One of the doors swing open and a shadowy figure