Damaged

9

The private investigator that Malcom hired to trail Jessie just sent in his report. He had caught wind of a police department in the middle of nowhere, a town called Clear water  that ran the woman's plates. He was headed there now to speak with them. Malcom agreed to meet his guy there, knowing it would look better image wise if he was the one actively searching for his wife.

He was furious when he came home and she was gone as well as her belongings. She made sure not to take any electronics, so he couldn't track her the way he wanted. Her managers were hounding him about what happened. They just couldn't understand how their number one star just vanished. The press were eating it up, and the conspiracy theorists were going crazy with sacrificial talk. He needed to find that bitch of a wife of his fast. Or they would loose everything.  He wasn't even sure he was entitled to any of her money or properties if she just disappeared.  No body , no money that was in the prenuptial agreement. If anything suspicious were to happen, he wouldn't get a dime.

He put the coordinates to the town in his GPS it was about a 7 hour car ride from his current location. He hoped they had the answers he needed, and he wasn't wasting his time.

He checked into a hotel shortly after he arrived.  His PI scheduled a meeting with the sheriff for the next morning. Stating they were on official police business pertaining the whereabouts of his wife. He had to find her soon before they lost everything. While in town, he decided to go out and try to talk to the townspeople. Hoping they had some insight the department might not know about.

He came across a small diner, a raggedy looking open sign hanging half off the building. He cringed inwardly. This place was really a dump, he thought. He slid into a booth, flagging the waitress who was flirting with another patron.

"Can I get some service over here?"

The woman frowned, whispering something to the man she was speaking to who turned around and glared at him. The woman walked over clearly with attitude . "You think cause you're in a fancy suit, you can come here and start demanding shit?"

"Well, if your attuide is anything like the food here, it leaves much to be desired." He snapped, looking her up and down as she gasped, throwing the napkins from her pouch onto the table.  He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture. "Have u seen this woman?"

Traci squinted her eyes, pretending to look deep in thought. "No asshole, if you're looking for her, she must've left because of your wonderful personality. "

Malcom slammed his fist on the table, grabbing the woman's arm and yanking her forward. "You got a mouth on you. Don't speak about things you don't understand.  I know she was in this dump. Answer my question, or you will be sorry."

Traci trembled at his words, and tears brimmed in her eyes as she struggled to break her arm away. "Let go of me!"

The guy who she was flirting with earlier stood from his stool and made his way over. Malcom let go, straightening his jacket as he stood. "You know what? I'm not feeling that hungry anymore."

He pushes past both of them as he left. Swiftly getting into his car, no problem. He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. Jessie always did this, pulled this anger out of him from the deepest and darkest places of his soul. This was all her fault, he needed to find her fast. He drove back to the crappy hotel and had a brief meeting with his PI about the information he found so far. He had an idea of what direction she went in and was currently calling all gas stations in the area to see if Jessie had ventured to one of them. They were closing in soon. He could feel it.

-----

The next morning, the sheriff woke up with a hangover.  She immediately popped an ibuprofen as she showered, brushed her teeth, and got ready for the day. She wasn't sure what time her deputy left her place last night, but she had 5 missed calls from him, and it was only seven in the morning.