Participants:
Scene Title | We'll Look Into It |
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Synopsis | Aaron goes to Old Lucy's to find Abby because he doesn't trust the police to do their job. Unfortunately, she's not there, but Felix is. |
Date | August 13, 2009 |
Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.
hlp kdnappd by taxi drivr. going over brklyn brdge.
help!!
trppd in taxi. just crssd whitman + dover intersection in brklyn.
pulling up to big bldng. warehouse. can't see signs. hlp!
Aaron had originally been confused by the odd tone his cell phone made on account of having never in his entire life received a text message. To say he was anything but horrified and panicked when he read the message, rather the constant barrage of messages, would be a lie. After Peyton had taken him into her home and after all else she had done for him, the idea of losing her now was almost too much for him to take. Somewhere, however, he managed to come up with the strength to get her back. Or die trying.
Unfortunately, occupied as he is with his phone, he can't very well call the police from it, so he has to use the land line. Once he's managed to rattle off all the information he can, he hangs up and goes to do one better. Certainly Abby knows someone who can help. Maybe she can get Helena to help, or something. Anything really. Anything is better than sitting on his ass doing nothing about it.
Completely stressed out by the time he gets to Old Lucy's by cab, he overpays the driver and gets out, entering his on-again-off-again workplace looking possibly more dishevelled than Brenda has ever seen him, so when he's told that Abby's not there, worse that she 'left', he quite literally falls off the stool he'd only barely managed to climb onto in the first place. "Fuck," is the only word that manages to escape his lips as his hands shake around the phone gripped — though delicately — in his hand. "They're dead," he says to himself, and kicks hard at the stool next to him even as his eyes fill with tears.
Fel's a regular here. He's not terribly impressive-looking at the best of times, and at the moment, he's sitting around in a Hawaiian shirt over a white t-shirt, jeans, and no glasses. He's got one long hand loosely wrapped around a glass of something, and blinks enquiringly over at that statement. "Who's dead?" he wonders, quietly, letting brows loft towards his nearly nonexistent hairline.
"Peyton," Aaron says, although as he continues his raving, it becomes obvious he's not actually replying to Felix at all, "I'm sorry. I should have gone with you." The lack of further messages has he coming unhinged. Once he's blinked the tears away he notices Felix looking down at him. "What?"
The Fed lowers his head a little, looks at Aaron patiently from under his brows. "I asked," he repeats, "Who's dead?" He gives Aaron a thoughtful looking-over, as if wondering if he's drunk.
It certainly might appear that way — that or like he's an addict. One way or the other, Aaron looks completely ill. White as a ghost, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. "Peyton," he says. Lord, is he going to do his ramble again? He wipes his eyes with a sleeve. "She came here with her friend Wendy. I should have come with her. Now she's gone. Abducted by a cabbie."
Felix goes still, listening to this quietly. "Wait, what? How do you know she's been abducted?" he says, keeping his voice even. "Have you received a demand for ransom? And if you believe your friend has been kidnapped, have you contacted the police?" He's straightened up a little, and set his drink aside.
"Called them before I came here. Got text messages from her…" Aaron goes silent for a moment as he holds up his cell phone and then shakes his head slowly, "She wouldn't prank me. Wendy might, but not Peyton."
Felix holds out his hand for the phone, without even asking. "You got text messages from her claiming she was kidnapped?" he demands, and a fierce light has come into his eyes.
And that fierce light makes Aaron relinquish the cell phone, albeit with trembling hands. "Yes," he says, "The most recent one is still up." The most recent one being the one saying pulling up to big bldng. warehouse. can't see signs. hlp!
"Abducted by a cabbie….." And then Felix stiffens. "GodDAMMIT. I was standing right fucking -here-. I thought something seemed hinky and I didn't say anything about it." He slams a fist into the top of the bar, making the glasses rattle. "What'd the cops say?" he asks, subsiding.
"What do they usually say? 'We'll look into it.' I don't believe them, that's why I came here," Aaron says, though why he came there or thought it would help may not be obvious. But then, he did ask Brenda where Abby was, in the case that Felix was dropping eaves. Then he looks thoughtful. "They did want me phone, though."
Felix blinks at him. "Are they on their way here?" he says, quietly. "And what did you think Abby would do?"
That would be a logical assumption. "I guess," Aaron says, "I don't know. They did want the phone though…" The second question gets a bit of a look. "You know Abby?" he asks.
This answer doesn't please Felix. Not at all. He flips open his own phone, and the number he dials is not 911. There's a few curt words with whomever's on the other end, explaining the situation. "Cops'll be here in a little," he explains, curtly. "And yes, I do. I owe her a great deal, in fact."