The Auction House Deal: Bought by A Billionaire

With Stan in tow, we headed to the old site of the Auction House.

The building was still there, but instead of a meat market, the space had been rented and renovated into a cat café. In place of the cat walk that the girls used to strut down, a giant series of structures for cats to climb and hide on sat in front of the space.

The cats were in their carriers in the back of the cafe, all tucked in for the night. It smelled like cats and the litter box scent floated in the air.

As Stan and I walked in, we could hear two policeman already in the back, searching for any clues.

"Hello," I said.

One of the policemen, the hefty one I had argued with, peeped his head around the hallway. "Hello?"

When he saw Stan next to me, I could see his eyes look at him in interest.

Ed and Marcus came up behind us a second later, and the officer walked across the room toward us.

"What are you all doing here?" the cop said. "I told you, we’re handling it."

"Handling it? What have you found so far? We’re no closer to finding Hannah," I said to him, my face serious. There was no way I was going to let him give me the brush off.

"These things take time," he said.

"Time?" I could feel my anger rising. My face got hot and tightened.

"We need to find Hannah NOW," I shouted.

"Whoa, whoa," the cop said. "Calm down."

"Oh I’m calm. But we’ve been more than cooperative, and now my wife is missing and you’re here petting pretty kitties." I stared at him.

"We just think that her disappearance has something to do with the Auction House. You pissed off a lot of people with that." He gave me a look suggesting it was somehow my fault.

"We ended an illegal business. I thought you’d protect us." I gave Ed and Marcus a menacing grimace as well.

"That’s what we’re trying to do, but we can’t do everything. We’re not superheroes," Ed said.

"I didn’t think keeping an eye on one woman would be so hard," I accused. "No superpowers needed. Unless, of course, you consider a cock block a superpower. From what I heard, you needed it that night."

"Hey," Marcus said. "We were helping you out." "A lot of help you were, busy dancing and flirting," I accused.

The cop’s phone rang, and he stepped over toward the hallway to take the call. "Hold on a minute," he said.

I started walking in a little circle around the empty café. I just felt as though we were missing something. There had to be some type of clue - something that didn’t make sense.

Stan stood against the wall, looking fierce and strong, his arms crossed in front of him. Having fired the other inept bodyguards, I was left with a silent brute.

As I made another lap in my circle, I saw a small orange striped cat that must have escaped sidle up to Stan’s pant leg. The cat rubbed its head on Stan’s leg, and the contrast between the strong, muscled man in front of me with a soft, little kitty at his feet made me laugh.

It reminded me a little of how Hannah would sometimes nuzzle herself in my chest. I longed to hold her and stroke her hair.

Ed and Marcus continued to look at their phones. I really hoped they came up with a better lead.

"Sorry," Ed said. "No luck on the car yet." My shoulders slumped at the news.

The cat scurried away when the cop tramped back into the room. He came up to me and told me some information they were looking into.

"Look, I just got a call. We have people looking into where the old members of the Auction House are. I’m telling you, there’s nothing here but cats. Go home. I’ll let you know if we get any leads."

"It seems like you’re only looking in one place. What if it’s something else? Hannah’s a gorgeous woman, and I’m a rich dude - what if it’s someone looking for money?" I asked.

"Has anyone contacted you about a ransom?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"Then that’s not it."

"A jealous stalker?"

"That could be. But usually there’s something that happens first. A build up. Stalkers don’t typically jump into kidnapping just like that."

Even though I didn’t like the police officer all that much, his explanation seemed plausible. If it was indeed most likely someone connected with the Auction House, I figured it was probably the best place to start.

His partner came out from the hallway, his face puffy and red.

"Did you find anything in the files?" the first cop asked.

"Yeah, a list of associates. It was an old schedule that got wedged under a filing cabinet," he shook his head and itched behind his ear. "But I think I’m allergic to cats."

Stan, usually stone-faced, chuckled. The other cop grabbed the paper covered in tiny cat hairs.

"Yeah, we’ll take this back to the office. Check these names out."

"Come on, Roman," Ed said. "You should go home. Get some rest." Marcus nodded, and Stan grunted in agreement.

I wasn’t sure how I could rest with Hannah out there, but there wasn’t much else I could do. Harry was secretly working the case, the cops were looking into the Auction House connection, and the FBI was searching for the black car. There was not much else I could accomplish at the moment

Most people were asleep, and I was feeling like a pile of books had landed on my head, the pressure pressing down on my skull.

I skulked out of the stinky cat café, and Stan followed.

I was partially glad the place was virtually unrecognizable as the Auction House. The night I met Hannah was one fraught with difficulty. Seeing her up there on that stage was an image that still haunted me. I was glad to have done what I did in saving her, but even more happy she had become my wife, connected to me forever.

Another part of me was bothered by the fact that a place so horrible had just disappeared, replaced by a feline refuge. The fact that the Auction House had left no trace and yet was still haunting Hannah and me was upsetting.

At my house, I walked in the door to find Lauren asleep on the couch. Our entrance startled her, and she sat up, groggy.

"Hey Rom. Any news?"

Stan took a post in a room I had set up for security with screens, a scanner, and even hidden weapons. With a sophisticated security system installed, there wasn’t much to do but monitor it.

"No," I told her. "Everything’s a dead end." I came over to the couch and flopped down on it.

"Really? Nothing?"

"Afraid so. What are you doing here so late anyway?" I asked.

"I don’t know. I just feel... well, I knew you’d be worried. Maybe would want a little company."

"Right now I need to sleep. It’s been a long day." I tilted my head back on the couch.

"Roman," Lauren said meekly, and I looked up at her.

"What is it?"

"I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I - I - talked to Hannah tonight." She looked at me as if she had more to say, but was for some reason frightened.

Despite being exhausted, I didn’t want to give off the vibe that I wouldn’t listen, so I tilted my head up and gave her my attention.

"About what?"

"My stalker. I know it’s silly. You’ve endured a gunshot, having to kill a man, and Hannah being kidnapped by a bunch of psychos once before and then this. I was just trying to relate, I guess," she looked at the scar on her arm.

"Still," I tried to console Lauren. "I know it was scary. It always is."

"That’s why I’m so sorry for making Hannah stay at the club. Please believe her. She wanted to leave right away. She was furious at Kristin, but I convinced her to have a drink and dance to a couple of songs. I never should have..."

I could have been furious at Lauren. Thrown her out right then and there. But I knew she had only been trying to make Hannah happy.

That’s what we all were trying to do. She’d suffered enough, and I couldn’t let Lauren take the blame. After all, she was no bodyguard or FBI agent. Those were the real losers who had let Hannah slip away right under their noses.

"It’s okay, Lauren. It’s not you I’m angry with. I just want Hannah back, and if I have to step on some toes to do that, then so be it."