CHAPTER SIX

 

After speaking with Rybak's university lecturers, a woman in Financial Services, and the head of Campus Security, Ray drove Jack over to Beep's Burgers on Ocean Avenue in the Ingleside District, about a five-minute drive from the university. Neither spoke on the drive.

Beep's was a Mel’s Drive-In style diner but without indoor seating and movie tie-ins. Above the wraparound exterior counter, the surrounding glass allowed diners to watch their meals being prepared.

The place attracted classic car enthusiasts, including an annual ‘50s night. On those nights, many dressed in period garb and bought their freshly detailed, souped-up and cherried-out hotrods to show off. And the diner played music from the likes of Elvis, The Del-Vikings, The Cadillacs, Debbie Reynolds and others popular at the time.

Jack hadn't been here since he and Leah lived in the Sunset house. Initially, they rode over on his Harley Fatboy—the same bike he had now—and when Zoë was born, they came over in Leah's pale-yellow 1965 Mustang. Back then, while it wasn't cherried-out, it was in good condition. Jack more so than Leah enjoyed those events, but they both loved the burgers and root beer floats.

Ray pulled the department vehicle into a space beside the building. They got out and placed their orders at the window then took two of the three stools at the side of the building nearest the car. From here, Jack had a one-eighty view from Lee Avenue to the junction on Ocean Avenue, as well as the Muni’s electric buses.

Ray quietly watched the cook making their lunch. When it was apparent he wasn't in any rush to say anything, Jack broke the silence. "Ms. Fong and the teachers were accommodating, but they didn’t tell us much that we didn’t already know about Rybak."

Ray nodded.

"We did get IDs on the other two though."

"Uh-huh."

"Based on what the woman in Financial Aid told us about Kyle Warren being raised in foster care, I don't think there's much more we can learn about him unless we want to track down his foster parents. Sounds like once he aged out of the system, he was on his own. Doesn’t look like he bonded with any of his foster siblings either—none of them were listed as emergency contacts or known associates.” When Ray didn't say anything, Jack continued, “It’s amazing that he managed to keep up his grades and earn a full ride scholarship, especially to SFSU. Definitely not an easy thing to do. That takes a lot of hard work and determination. Why throw it away, especially when he only had a year left to go?"

"Dunno."

Jack glanced at Ray, who sat motionless, staring into the restaurant kitchen. "Something bothering you?"

"Nope. I'm fine," Ray muttered.

Something was up. "Would you say it's safe to assume the three men were friends? Or at least Rybak and Warren were since they had the most in common." Ray shrugged. "Let's assume they were. Since they disappeared around the same time, do you think they went to ground together? I know it’s a couple weeks since Rybak took his life, but if they've been together, do you think Warren is still there and waiting for Rybak to come back?"

"Anything's possible."

"And since we have the vehicle information on both of them, get someone to run the plates and see if anything pops." Jack's brain kicked into gear, trying to put the pieces together. "Hey, now that I think of it, we know what happened to Rybak, but has anyone found his vehicle? If he drove over to my place, is it still parked nearby, or has it been impounded? Run both of their names through the FBI’s IAFIS system and see if something hits there too."

"Already on it," Ray grumbled.

"Maybe Armstrong’s still around. Fong said he was a senior at the time and finished out the year, even though Rybak and Warren had disappeared. We need to find out what their connection was since nothing popped on Fong’s records. And see if Maguire is still in the city and ask her about the three."

"Yes, boss,” Ray said with a mock salute. “I'll get right on that too." Sarcasm dripped from his friend's words–or was it annoyance? Jack let it go.

Just then, a man inside the kitchen tapped on the glass, indicating their order was ready for pick-up. Jack rose. "I'll get it."

For old times’ sake, Jack ordered the same meal he always did when he'd come here with Leah—a double burger with cheddar and swiss with bacon and jalapenos. Leah had preferred the veggie burger with avocado. They always shared onion rings but they each had their own float.

The instant the float’s sugary vanilla and spicy flavors hit his tongue, emotions awakened of the times spent here with his family. For once, he wasn’t being dragged into his sorrow. He felt only love for his wife and daughter and smiled at the memories of being here in this place with them.

A few minutes later, after tucking into his burger and Ray still giving him the silent treatment, he asked, "You pissed at me again or is this from before?"

"Why can't it be a little of both?" Ray asked without looking up from his meal.

Jack took a long swallow from his float, forcing more sugar into his system, before stuffing a salty onion ring in his mouth. Something was off with his friend, and he couldn't figure it out. He ate his meal in silence and let Ray do the same.

Over the years, they’d developed a routine. If Jack’s job crossed over into official territory, as it had over the holidays with the drag queen murders, Jack brought Ray in immediately. What was different this time?

His burger finished, Jack wiped his mouth and tossed down the napkin before spinning to face Ray, who still wasn't looking at him.

"Haniford didn't agree to let me tag along today, did he?" Ray huffed, telling Jack he was right. "Why did you pick me up if he wasn't on board?"

Ray took a long, slow breath then calmly said, "Like I said last night. We both know, whether he agreed or not, you would have gone on your own anyway."

"Yeah, so? I'm an investigator. I investigate things."

"You're a private investigator, Jack." Ray finally looked up. "No one has hired you to look into Rybak.”

“He killed himself in my house. That’s the only invitation I need.”

“And the reason why you're too close to this. Haniford put me on this case. You have to let the department do its job . . . let me do my job."

"I know you're a thorough investigator, Ray, but some guy offed himself in my house and no one's said shit to me about it. Not even you," Jack snapped. "So, you bet I have a vested interest. If Rybak knew anything about what happened in my house . . . to my family . . . I need to find out."

"That's why I let you tag along. Even knowing if . . . when Haniford finds out, I'll probably be fired. Or worse, lose my promotion and get busted down to desk duty. Jesus, they’ll probably have me cataloguing evidence in the basement,” Ray groaned. “At least taking you with me, I can keep an eye on you—"