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    chris191070
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Case of the Disappearing Co-Eds - 3. Chapter 3

“We’ve got to call Ken as soon as possible,” George said, “and fill him in on what’s happening here. He can investigate Mossan’s New York City address for us.”

Ken had two cell phones. In addition to his work phone, he had a very private number. Only Joe and his sons were privy to it. Tom called the private number.

“What’s wrong,” Ken said. He sounded panicky. “Are you both alright?”

“Yes, but we have a doozy of a tale to tell you. Can you listen to us now?”

“I’m on my way to the apartment of a food delivery man. He may be a material witness in my current investigation. It’ll be a while before I get there, so start talking.”

Tom gave Ken a detailed report of all that was happening on the campus. The last thing he said was, “the only address the registrar has for this Ahmed Mossan is in New York. You’ve got to follow up for us.”

“What’s the address?”

“417 East 33rd Street, Apartment B1.”

There was utter silence, prompting Tom to ask, “Ken? Dad? Are you still there?”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ken said. “I just came from there. I’m investigating a sex trafficking case, and it led us to that address.”

“Wow!” was all Tom could manage to get out.

“You say these three girls disappeared without a trace? I have a very bad feeling. Maybe these freaks are using Binghamton as a staging area. Who would think to look there? It’s in the boonies. As soon as I interrogate this witness, I’m heading up to Binghamton. Make me a reservation at a nearby motel. I’ll call you from the road, and you can tell me where to go.”

The two amateur detectives had missed all their classes except the last one.

“I’m headed for my calculus class. I’ve got to speak to the professor about Ahmed.”

“You’ll have to be candid with the professor as to why you’re inquiring about him,” George said.

“Not necessarily, I’ll continue with my story about the attaché case.”

Tom got to class by a nano-second and couldn’t speak to the professor. He caught Professor Harris at the end of the lesson. He was very forthright.

“I was told that there is an Ahmed Mossan in this class. I’ve been trying to catch up to him to return his attaché case. He left it in the library, but I’ve never seen him here.”

“That’s because he’s never been here. He’s on my roster, but he hasn’t made one class yet.”

“Gee thanks, Professor,” Tom smiled. “That’s really interesting.”

Tom caught up to George when he left his calculus class.

“I’ve got a great idea,” he told George. There’s a motel right across the road from the main gate. Let’s make a reservation and wait for Dad there. We can fuck our brains out until he arrives.”

“You are so bad,” George said, “but you get some great ideas.”

******

Tom’s story raised some fright in Ken, and now he had a greater sense of urgency. His kids could be in danger. He called Joe and filled him in.

“I’m going to leave for Binghamton as soon as I finish this interrogation,” he informed Joe.

“No way, Sam Spade. I’m going with you. Pick me up, and I’ll have some things packed for us.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

Ken rushed as quickly as possible to Maurie’s apartment. He had to double park to save time. He banged on the apartment door, but nobody answered. He tried the door. It was unlocked, so he entered.

Ken had seen a lot of gory messes in his time, but when he entered the apartment and saw what was there, he had a hard time to keep from barfing. Maurie was lying in a pool of blood. He had been disembowelled, and his guts were all over the living room floor.

It was too late of course, but Ken called the paramedics. Then he called Chief Morton. He took his time and described in great detail the carnage he had just discovered, and Tom’s call.

“I’ve got to get to Binghamton as soon as possible. I don’t know how those kids ever got involved in this, but they are in great danger.”

“I’m sending several of my guys and the ME to the crime scene. As soon as they get there, you take off,” Morton said. “And please Ken, keep me informed.”

******

Tom was busily fucking George. They were both moaning, groaning, purring, and sniffling. Obviously, they were giving each other great pleasure. Suddenly, Tom’s cell phone rang.

“Shit,” George yelled, and Tom picked up the phone.

“Hey, kiddo,” he heard Ken say. “Joe and I are halfway to Binghamton. Give me the details.”

“The motel’s a Day’s Inn and its right across the street from the main gate of the campus.” He gave Ken the address of the motel and their room number. With business out of the way, he resumed fucking George, and then George returned the Favor.

When Ken and Joe entered the room, they were not surprised to see their two sons curled up together in one of the queen-size beds in the room. They undressed rapidly and hunkered up to each other in the other bed.

In the morning, Tom and George took off to shower, change clothes and get ready for classes. Joe and Ken did the same, but they went to the local precinct to touch base with the police and fill them in on what was happening in New York. The local police chief, Richard O’Conner, called the campus police, urging them to be more vigilant than ever.

In mid-morning, during one of his classes, Tom got a text-message from Robyn Fields. She asked him to meet her in the cafeteria as soon as possible. She said that she was very disturbed.

Tom got hold of George and they ran to the cafeteria. When they met Robyn, she was shaking like a leaf.

“What’s the matter?” both brothers asked her.

“It’s Joy. Remember she told us that she would date Ahmed, no matter what, because he was so rich and handsome.”

“I hope she wasn’t serious,” George said.

“Apparently, she was. Ahmed and she are meeting at The Old Union Hotel tonight at seven for dinner and cocktails.”

“The fucking idiot,” George yelled, and several people turned to look at him. “Doesn’t she realize what great danger she’s in?”

Tom ran to a quiet spot to call Ken. Ken was still at the police station talking to the chief. When Tom told him what was going on, the chief said, “We’ve got to stop her.”

“No way,” Ken said. If she’s foolish enough to date a suspected murderer and kidnapper, let’s use her as bait.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t got enough manpower to properly patrol all sides of the building, and to keep her protected,” the chief lamented.”

“We still have seven hours until they meet,” Joe said. “I’ll have a crew of back-up men out here in less than six hours.”

“But how …?” the chief started to ask, but Ken interrupted him.

“Don’t ask,” he said simply, and the chief decided that what he shouldn’t know was best left unsaid.

“If he’s going to kidnap her, he’ll lure her into his car and then take off to somewhere,” Ken said. “Hopefully, it’ll be where he’s holding the other women. We’ll have a whole huge crew to follow him. We damn well better not lose him.”

“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “My consultants won’t lose him.”

Copyright © 2024 chris191070, hankster; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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