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  Subtle Deceit

  A Porter Novella

  R.A. McGee

  Copyright © 2018 by R.A. McGee

  Published by Darewood Press

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2018

  ISBN 0-9000000-0-0

  Acknowledgements.

  Editing by Serenity Editing Services

  Cover by J. Caleb Design

  Interior Design by WDR Book Design

  Dedication

  To my wife—

  I wouldn’t have done this without you. Thanks for believing.

  Subtle Deceit

  A Porter Novella

  Chapter 1

  If Phil Porter was honest, it was the music that bothered him the most. Being drunk in the middle of the day was dumb, but kids experimented. They would learn after a few good hangovers. But the loud music? Porter had never understood the attraction to loud music.

  It was clear that the young men in the building in front of him disagreed with his stance. A rhythmic, tinny beat thumped over and over again. Porter gritted his teeth.

  The two-story brick house was covered in ivy, with crooked Greek letters made of chipped wood hanging from the front. Something that smelled like vomit covered the stairs leading to the front door, and a young man with a patchy brown beard was stretched out asleep on his side, using the top step as a pillow. Porter stretched his long legs, skipping three of the steps to avoid both the vomit and the sleeping brother. Puke was tough to get out of Chuck Taylors.

  Porter slammed the heavy brass knocker down on the door again and again until it finally cracked open. A boy with curly brown hair peeked out.

  “Not surprised you didn’t hear me knocking. What is that, techno?”

  “What?”

  “Listen,” Porter said, “I don’t know the secret password or anything like that, but I need to come in for a minute.”

  “What?”

  Porter nodded and pushed the door open. Too late, the curly-haired boy realized what was happening and tried to bar the way, but Porter bowled him over. The boy’s head bounced off of the edge of the door.

  The interior looked just how Porter had imagined. The movies seemed to have captured it perfectly. Wood flooring ran throughout the lower level, topped with well-worn rugs. Glass cabinets with old pictures, banners, and trophies lined the hallway.

  Stepping into the common area, Porter saw a kid in the corner, iPod plugged into a bank of speakers. He passed a large fish tank filled with scummy green water on his left and stopped in front of the kid. “Hey buddy, can you turn it down?”

  The boy sneered at Porter and made a flicking motion with his hand.

  “Word?” Porter said.

  He snatched the iPod from the boy’s hands and unplugged the auxiliary cord, bringing an abrupt stop to the music. A groan rose from the crowd, then scaled back to a murmur.

  “Hey, you can’t do that,” the DJ said.

  “Sure I can. You mean you don’t want me to do that. That’s too damn bad.”

  “That’s mine, give it back,” the DJ whined.

  “Nah,” Porter said and stuffed the iPod into his pocket. He turned and faced the room, raising his voice so the people upstairs could hear him through the open balcony. “I’m looking for Jamie Duncan. Jamie Duncan anybody?”

  A nervous laughter went through the crowd. A voice spoke up from the balcony. “Who the hell are you?” Porter couldn’t tell who it came from.

  “Come down here. Let’s talk,” Porter said.

  The crowd’s murmur grew in intensity until the group parted and a tall blond boy appeared in front of Porter.

  “Are you the boss or pooh-bah or whatever you guys call it?” Porter said.

  “I’m Todd Jones, the president of Tau Omega Psi. I believe you’re trespassing.”

  The boy had an athlete’s build but was much smaller than Porter. Porter looked down a couple of inches at him.

  “Trespassing? Your guy let me in the front door. Ain’t that right?”

  The boy with the curly hair rubbed his head where the edge of the door had hit him.

  “Besides, all I want to know is where Jamie is. He’s one of your frat brothers, is he not?”

  “We prefer the term fraternity. You wouldn’t call your country a cunt, would you?” Todd crossed his arms, a smirk washing over his face. A chuckle pulsed through the crowd.

  “That’s funny. Funny guy, I got it. Let me try this again.” Porter put his hand on Todd’s shoulder and shoved him out of the way. The fraternity president went stumbling across the room. “Has anyone seen Jamie? Simple question. Answer me and I’ll leave you douchebags alone.”

  The crowd murmured again. Several of Todd’s brothers dragged him back to his feet as he barked threats at Porter.

  “I’ll have you arrested if you don’t leave. Go, right now, or I’m calling the campus cops.”

  “Campus cops? Wow, you spooked me there. Those guys are too busy writing parking tickets to worry about you assholes. Trust me, you’re on your own,” Porter said.

  In the corner of the room, by a side door, a pretty blond girl half-raised her hand and caught Porter’s attention. She gestured outside with her head and started moving. Porter watched her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Nothing? Okay, fine. But know this: If I don’t find what I want to know, I’m coming back. This seems like the kind of place I could hang out for a while,” Porter said.

  The DJ motioned with an upturned hand for his iPod back.

  Porter tossed it into the fish tank and watched as it slalomed its way to the bottom. He backed out of the room, turning when he made it to the front door.

  Out front, the blond girl was walking slowly across the well-manicured lawn, away from the party. The only event she was dressed appropriately for was the beach, and now that he was able to get a good look at her, Porter realized how young she was.

  “You looking for Jamie? You a cop or something?” the girl said.

  “Come on. Do I look like a cop?” Porter said.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “What’s your name?” Porter said.

  “Katie.”

  “Katie, do you have any clue why I’m looking for Jamie?”

  “Of course. We all know. No one’s seen Evanna in a couple of weeks.”

  “Has Jamie been around anywhere?” Porter said.

  “Not really. He was around for the first few days she was missing like everything was normal or whatever. Since then, no one’s seen him. All I know is I miss Evanna. She’s my roommate. I go from spending every day with someone to nothing. I wish she was back.”

  “Where do you think she is?”

  “I don’t know, but I wish I did. I think that scumbag Jamie did something to her. A lot of us girls do,” Katie said.

  “Why?”

  “A couple of us dated him before she did. We’re kind of a small group, so there’s some sloppy seconds going around. You know, sloppy seconds?”

  “I’m aware of the term,” Porter said.

  “Sorry. I figured, you know, you’re old. Like, forty or something,” Katie said.

  “First off, forty isn’t that old. You’ll see one day. Second, I’m thirty-five, okay? I’m sure sloppy seconds was around before me.”

  Katie pursed her lips, looked down and nodded. “Right. Okay. So,
I was saying…?”

  “Sloppy seconds,” Porter offered.

  “Right. A few of us have dated Jamie. In the beginning, he seems really nice, but then if you argue with him or break up with him, he just snaps. He can be scary.”

  “Sounds bad.”

  “Sometimes. I tried to warn Evanna about him, but she wouldn’t listen. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants,’ she told me. Like some shit from a fortune cookie or something,” Katie said.

  “Don’t hate on fortune cookies. Sometimes they know what they’re talking about,” Porter said. The pair turned right at the four-way intersection of the walking path and Porter nosed toward the parking lot. “So is there anything you can tell me that would help me find Jamie or Evanna?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know that those guys at the party will never tell you anything. They take the whole brotherhood thing super serious. Like, stupid serious, you know? I’m surprised they let you walk out of there,” Katie said.

  “I’m not too worried about that,” Porter said. “Tell you what, I’m sure you don’t want your friends knowing that you talked to me, so you should get back to the party.” Porter handed her a business card, completely blank except for his phone number printed on one side. “If you remember anything, call me. Will you do that?”

  Katie took the card, slipped it past her tank top, and put it into what Porter could only assume was the cup of her bra. “No room for pockets,” she said with a shrug.

  “Obviously.” Porter tried not to notice the beads of sweat on the girl’s chest.

  “You sure you aren’t a cop? If you are you have to tell me, right?”

  “That’s not how that works, but if it makes you feel better, just offer me some drugs or something. Then you’ll know for sure,” Porter said.

  “Really? That’s true?”

  “No. Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Just believe me.”

  “So that’s where you went. Katie, you got a big mouth.” A voice carried over the flat lawn, from the direction the two had come from.

  “Oh my God, that’s Todd. Now he knows,” Katie said.

  Porter leaned around her and held up one finger at Todd and the small group of brothers that surrounded him.

  “He doesn’t know anything because you didn’t tell me anything. Just remember my card. Got it?” Porter said.

  Katie nodded, her breath shallow and fast. She turned and walked back toward the party, taking a wide berth around the fraternity brothers blocking the way. Porter stole a peek at her ass, feeling marginally wrong for doing so.

  When she was out of earshot, Porter spoke up. “Can we not do this right now? It’s already warm enough out here. I don’t need any more hot air.”

  “Well, we got enough hot air to fill a balloon or a blimp or something,” a short red-haired brother said.

  “Yeah, like a zeppelin.” The brother with a green collared shirt and terrible skin looked pleased with his reference, and the two high-fived.

  “Zeppelins were filled with hydrogen, moron,” Porter said. “I thought you were in college?”

  “Shut up, Blake,” Todd said. “Look, I heard you say you might come back. We just wanted to tell you that you aren’t welcome.”

  “Come on. I’d make a good brother, don’t you think?” Porter said. He pointed to his shirt, unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. “Isn’t this cool?”

  Two of the guys slowly slipped behind Porter. He watched them in his peripheral vision.

  “No. I don’t. You’re a little too dark to roll with us, if you catch my drift,” Todd said.

  “Too dark? I’m only half black. Think about the opportunity to fill your racial quota,” Porter said.

  “Now who’s the funny guy?” Todd said.

  Of the two young men behind him, one was a decent size, at over six feet. He was by far the biggest in the group. Porter had a good two inches on the brother, and at least eighty pounds. The younger man carried himself with a swagger that was fueled by hops, pride, and unnatural testosterone levels. Without a word, he rushed Porter.

  Porter had expected this and the clapping of the brother’s flip-flops was the starting bell. Hesitating for a moment to draw his attacker in, Porter pivoted, doing a one-eighty to his left and faced the oncoming attacker.

  The brother wasn’t ready for this and was caught in a moment of indecision, torn between halting his assault and trying to bum-rush Porter. In that moment, he froze an arm’s length away from the bigger man.

  Porter kicked the boy in the left thigh, then took one step in and connected his elbow with the boy’s temple, sending him off to sleep.

  The unconscious brother made a snorting noise and settled onto the grass, face down.

  “Okay. What now?” Porter turned his back on the other young man behind him and faced Todd again.

  “Oh shit. Did you just kill him?” Todd said.

  “Probably not.”

  “Hey, listen, man, we didn’t want any trouble,” Todd said.

  “Could have fooled me,” Porter said. “You good now?”

  Todd glanced at the other members of his crew. Their pugnaciousness had waned visibly. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Then come get your boy.” Porter side-stepped out of the way as three of the young men, all slightly intoxicated, shuffled past him. One under each armpit and one grabbing his belt, they carried their large friend away.

  “Not you.” Porter pointed to Todd. “We need to talk.”

  A look of fear washed over the young man’s face. His head darted left and right.

  “Come on, Todd. Man up. I’m gonna be pissed if you run.”

  Deflated, Todd shuffled over to Porter. He looked up at him, the sun in his eyes causing him to squint.

  “Like I said before, I want Jamie. That’s all. I’m not here to wreck your party. What can you tell me about him?”

  Todd licked his lips. “What did Katie tell you?”

  “Katie? That blonde? She didn’t know anything. Told me I should leave or you guys would stomp a mudhole in my ass. She thinks very highly of your general level of rowdiness.”

  Todd swelled with pride. “Man, I don’t have much to say. Jamie’s our brother, but he is seriously messed up to girls. He probably did something to her. Katie, you know.”

  “That’s it? Nothing else?”

  “I’m afraid not. Can I go now?” Todd said.

  “Yeah, you can go.”

  Todd had taken a step to leave when Porter said, “Actually, I forgot one thing.”

  The young man turned, an exasperated look on his face. “Listen, dude, I already told you—”

  Porter swung his arm in a wide arc and connected with an open-handed slap that sent Todd’s eyes rolling and his feet out from underneath him. He landed with a thud and lay motionless.

  “Don’t worry,” Porter said, stooping down and giving him a much more genteel pat on the other cheek.

  “You aren’t dead.”

  Chapter 2

  Working on the other side of the country had its disadvantages, and chief among them was that Porter had to rent a car. The mystery car ‘deal of the day’ had been cruel to him, and the airport rental lot especially empty. The salesman tried to tout the gas mileage Porter was going to enjoy. Porter had asked him if he’d sniffed glue as a child.

  Knees crammed into the dashboard of the sub-compact car, Porter connected his auxiliary cable and let the directions from the GPS echo through the speakers.

  It was late afternoon and the sun was still bright in the sky. Porter followed the sliding blue dot on the screen. It took him away from the nicely manicured area around the school and through the downtown of the city. Porter followed the dot until it spit him out on the street he had been looking for. He parked and unfolded himself from the car.

  The enti
re block was a collection of brownstones. These houses were older, but well-kept, with immaculate lawns and mostly fresh coats of paint. They were essentially clones of each other: a small row of steps leading to a porch with white banisters, continuing on to the large front door. Each house was three stories and was capped by the point of an A-frame roof. Porter couldn’t remember where, but he knew he had seen a similar style on television before.

  The sidewalk in front of the homes sloped dramatically, and it was a steep climb to the top. Porter was ashamed to admit that he was winded by the time he got to Evanna Blanchard’s house. He hadn’t worked out in months. Porter faced away from the house, toward a large open green space across the street, and took several deep breaths. He turned and rang the doorbell.

  After several seconds, the door was pulled open. A large man with a short blond buzzcut and a thick mustache answered. He was sturdily built, carrying at least twenty extra pounds. He stared at Porter.

  “Mr. Blanchard? I’m not sure if you remember me, I was here yesterday—”

  “Of course I remember you. Not every day some guy turns up talking like you did. Find… something already?”

  “Not yet. I will. May I come in for a few minutes?”

  Mr. Blanchard’s face flushed, but he bit his tongue and opened the door wider and stepped away. Porter nodded and crossed the threshold.

  Porter followed an old runner over the creaky wooden floors. Mr. Blanchard sat in a well-worn leather chair. After a few moments, he gestured to a couch across the living room.

  “Thanks.”

  “So? What is it?”

  “I took the information you guys gave me yesterday and went to the university. I had a couple conversations that I think may be fruitful, but nothing’s panned out yet.”

  “Yeah, well, I could’ve told you that,” Mr. Blanchard said. “The police said they weren’t able to find Evanna. Not sure what you think you can do.”

  “I use some different methods,” Porter said, watching the red color move around the man’s face. “Besides, you need to understand something about the police: Evanna’s over eighteen. In their eyes, she isn’t exactly a missing person yet, just someone who isn’t here at the moment.”