One Wild Night

The private investigator opened his eyes and moaned when he felt a piercing pain on the right side of his head. He shut his eyes to block the pain as he tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was talking to Mrs. Miller on the phone, and then going to check who was knocking on his door.

His eyes snapped open, and he gasped in surprise when someone poured water on his face, "You weren't brought here to sleep," A cold deep male voice growled at him.

"Who are you? What do you want from me? Who sent you to me?" The private investigator asked, looking around the warehouse which was filled with various cartons nervously before returning his gaze to the huge man who was standing next to him with an empty bottle of water in one hand.

"You don't need to know who sent me. Your service is required. We have a job for you," the man with the deep voice said.

"A job? And you couldn't talk things through? You had to harass me this way?" The private investigator asked, feeling annoyed as he looked down at his leg which was tied to a chair, as well as his hands which were also tied to his upper torso and the chair.

"This is a warning to let you know that you can disappear from the face of the earth if you so much as cross us or do a bad job," he warned.

"What do you want?"

"Your reputation precedes you. We have learned that you are the best there is around here when it comes to digging up information and finding people who do not want to be found. We need you to find someone."

"We?" The private investigator asked, wondering why he kept saying 'We' when he was the only one in the room.

"That's to let you know that there are many of us out there. You don't need to bother about who the others are. This file contains the details and pictures of the person we need you to find," he said dropping a flash drive in the front pocket of the investigator's shirt before taking out a dagger from his boot to cut off the ropes which were holding the private investigator.

"We expect you to find her in three days."

The private investigator who had just been cut loose, and who was stretching out his hands and legs which were feeling cramped, paused to look at him, "Three days?"

"As I said, your reputation precedes you. We know you work fast, so do a good job."

The private investigator straightened his back and squared his shoulders before giving his captor a nod, "How do I get the information to you when I'm done?" He asked, sensing that the man before him was very dangerous and it would be a risk to ask him to make any sort of payment for the job.

"I will come for it myself. And if I don't, someone else will. You are free to leave now. Someone will be waiting outside to take you back," the man said, jerking his head to the door for the private investigator to leave.

Two hours later the private investigator walked into his apartment and almost died of shock when he saw a man in a black suit seated on the single couch in his tiny studio apartment. What was it this time?

He took a step back, and bumped into the door which had just been pushed open by another man in a black suit, "Who are you?" He asked nervously. It seemed like it was time for him to finally quit this line of business.

"Go in!" The one standing behind him ordered as he pushed him further into the apartment and shut the door behind him.

"Have you given the Millers any information concerning Mr. Hank?" The man sitting on the couch asked as he raised the documents and pictures of Tom which the private investigator had carefully arranged before his abduction.

"How did you..." The remaining words were lost in a loud cry when the man standing behind him slapped his back.

"We ask the questions, and you give the answers. There will be consequences if you do otherwise," the man on the couch told him with cold eyes.

"I haven't," the private investigator answered with a shake of his head when he noticed that his phone was also on the table. They had probably gone through his call log.

"Good. We will keep all of these since it doesn't concern you or your client. Just to be fair, we will double whatever has been paid, and in return, you will give Mrs. Miller a call this moment and decline the job," the man on the couch said, making the private investigator's eyes widen in surprise.

"Are we clear?" the man asked in a very calm voice, and the private investigator gave him a quick nod even though this went against the ethics of his job. He was smart enough to know that he would be in a very difficult situation if he went against their instructions.

"And don't try to play smart," the man warned before using the private investigator's phone to dial Mrs. Miller's number.

Once the call connected, he placed it on speaker and gave the private investigator a nod to speak.

"Why are you calling when you are yet to deliver the information you mentioned to me? Your money has been sent, and I'm yet to see what I paid for," Mrs. Miller hissed in displeasure.

"I'm sorry about that, but I can't go on with the job.Your money will be refunded," the private investigator said apologetically.

"What do you mean by that nonsense? I have paid in full and I expect the information here at once, else I'm going to ruin your career!" She yelled at him angrily.

"You heard him. He won't be doing your job anymore. I have a message for you from Mr. Hank; If you want your family to remain relevant, stop digging your nose in places they don't belong," The man in suit warned, and hung up without waiting to hear her response.

He gathered all the materials on the table and handed them to his partner who was still standing behind the investigator, "We will keep your laptop, camera, and phone, if you don't mind," he said before picking the listed items.

The private investigator opened his mouth to protest but clamped it shut when the man raised a questioning brow, "You will receive a package within the next hour," he said before heading for the door.

He hesitated by the door and turned around to look at the investigator, "What did the gang who took you earlier want?" He asked, returning his attention to the investigator.

The investigator looked slightly startled by the question. He was tempted to ask how they knew he had been abducted, but decided against it once he recalled the warning the mean one had given him, "They want me to help them find someone," he confessed, already feeling tired of the whole thing. Once he got this job done, he was going to quit forever.

"Who?" The man asked once again.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that," the investigator said with a shake of his head. As far as he was concerned, his business with them was over.

The man looked at him for a moment as if he wanted to say something, and then gave him a nod before walking out of the studio apartment with his partner.