Chapter 2: Chapter 2
“Naturally. I was sent to voicemail at first, and then, Monday, I got a message saying, ‘The subscriber you are seeking is no longer on the network’.”
“Okay,” Quinn said. “Chances are something happened to his phone. Either he didn’t charge it, or it was destroyed.”
“Why,” Brent asked, “do you think his disappearing has something to do with his being gay? I mean, why that specifically—presuming something has happened to him and he’s not just hanging with those friends of his. I hate to say it, but he doesn’t sound too responsible.”
“He used to be,” Mrs. Taylor said forlornly. “Until he started college. But that doesn’t answer your question. Andrew is the stereotype of what people think a gay young man looks like. He’s five-nine, very slender, overly fashion conscious. He wears makeup, mostly eyeliner.” She smiled—barely. “The only thing he isn’t is limp-wristed. Other than that, I’m afraid he’s fairly effeminate.”
“A typical twink,” Quinn commented, getting a nod of agreement from his husband. “Am I right in presuming you’ve accepted he’s gay, Mrs. Taylor?”
“Of course. He’s my son and I love him. It was never an issue between us, even when he began…I guess you could say flaunting it, when he got to college. In high school he was more circumspect, which still didn’t stop the bullies, but he learned to deal with them.”
“Do you have a picture of him?” Brent asked. She did—several in fact—and handed them to him. Andrew was just as she described him, thin, dressed in the height of fashion in the two that were full body shots, with well-applied eye makeup that showed clearly in the close-up photos. He was, in Brent’s opinion, a very good-looking, if effeminate, young man.
“What else can you tell us about him?” Brent stopped, holding up one hand. “No, before we go any further, we should probably take care of the business end of things.”
“Then you’ll take my case, or whatever you call it,” Mrs. Taylor said, relief evident in her expression.
Brent glanced at Quinn, getting a brief nod in reply. “Yes,” he told Mrs. Taylor, going to a file cabinet to take out the forms he needed. “The top one,” he handed them to her, “is our contract. The second one lists our fees. Third is for personal information about you and Andrew.”
The two men waited quietly while she read the contract and looked at what it would cost her to hire them. When she finished, she nodded. “If you have a pen…”
Quinn handed her one, she signed the contract and then wrote them a check for the retainer. “According to the contract, you’ll update me every week, and more often when necessary.”
“Exactly,” Brent replied.
“Do you think…” She hesitated. “Canyou find him?”
“To be honest, we’ll do all that’s possible, but there are no guarantees. If he’s voluntarily disappeared, it shouldn’t be too hard to track him down. However, if something happened to him between leaving here and arriving in Idaho Springs—or after he got there—then things become more difficult.”
She paled, even though Brent was certain that thought had occurred to her. “The detective I spoke with said there were no reports of unidentified bodies along the stretches of roads he might have used.”
“That’s a start.” Brent took the check and contract, putting them into a file folder on his desk. “Please fill out the final form. The more information you can give us about Andrew, things like credit card numbers if he has them, the better. Friends’ names and their phone numbers.”
“Oh dear. I’ll have to do this at home, since that’s where most of that information is.”
“You have a computer?” Quinn asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll have our secretary email you a copy of the paperwork. You can fill out his information and email it back to us. I’d appreciate it if you’d give us your details, now.”
She did, handing him the form when she finished. “Is there anything else you need to know at the moment?”
Quinn checked and shook his head. “We have his name, and most recent address. We’ll start from there.”
“Thank you,” she replied with heartfelt sincerity. “Please, please find him.”
“We’ll do our best,” Brent replied, handing her their business card.
She smiled as she walked to the door. “From what I’ve heard, your best is very good. That’s why I came to you in the first place.”
“Thank you,” Brent said with a brief bow of his head.
* * * *
“First stop, Andrew’s apartment?” Quinn asked after Mrs. Taylor left.
“Yep, but not for a couple of hours. Presuming his roommates hold normal jobs, they probably won’t be home until sometime after five.”
“Or they’ll have left by then, if, like Andrew, they’re restaurant workers.”
Brent snorted. “With our luck…”
“So grab your jacket and let’s move.”
“Yes, bossman.” Brent ducked when Quinn took a swipe at him, only to find himself being hugged by his husband.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone