Samantha "Sam" Reade didn't flinch, but her hand hovered near her mug of black coffee, eyes locked on the man standing before her. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a wrinkled suit that suggested a sleepless night, or maybe several.
Sam leaned back in her chair, studying him with the detached interest she reserved for potential clients. "You'll need to be clearer than that, Mr. Pierce," she said calmly. "And how do you know my name?"
"It doesn't matter how I know," he replied, his tone thick with desperation. "What matters is that I need your help. Desperately."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Help with what, exactly?"
Pierce's hands shook slightly as he pulled out a crumpled photograph from his coat pocket. "My daughter... Lily. She's gone."
Sam glanced at the photo—a young woman, early twenties, smiling in a candid shot. Lily had long blonde hair and a carefree look in her eyes. The kind of light that suggested she hadn't yet faced real danger, or at least hadn't noticed it. Yet.
Sam's lips thinned as she pushed the photo back toward him. "When did she disappear?"
"A week ago," Pierce whispered, lowering his gaze. "We argued. I warned her to stay away from certain people, but she wouldn't listen. Now she's gone, and I'm afraid something's happened to her."
Sam frowned. "What kind of people are we talking about here?"
Pierce's mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but then he seemed to think better of it. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rubbing a hand over his weary face. "I don't know his name... but I'm sure he's involved in something dangerous."
Sam's interest piqued. "Dangerous, how?"
Pierce hesitated, his discomfort palpable. He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's a group… an underground network. They operate outside the law. People sometimes disappear after getting mixed up with them."
Sam felt a prickle of unease run down her spine. She'd handled high-stakes cases before, but this felt different. Pierce's polished appearance didn't match the story he was telling. There was something he wasn't saying. Something big.
"You should've gone to the police," Sam said, more as a challenge than a suggestion. She wanted to see how he'd react, to measure whether this was just the rambling of a desperate father or something more.
Pierce shook his head vigorously, frustration etching lines into his face. "I did. They didn't take me seriously. They said I didn't have enough proof, that it was probably a misunderstanding."
Sam nodded slowly. This wasn't her first case involving law enforcement negligence. Still, it never ceased to irritate her how easily some cases were dismissed, especially when it involved young women.
Sipping her coffee thoughtfully, she eyed him over the rim of her mug. Her gut told her that either this man was telling the truth, or he was a very convincing liar. Either way, there was something off about the whole thing.
"And what exactly makes you think this underground group is involved?" she asked, setting her mug down with a soft clink.
Pierce clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening. "She called me the night before she vanished. Said if anything happened to her, I should find someone who knew how to dig deeper. She said I wouldn't understand. I thought she was just being dramatic... but now I'm not so sure."
"Dig deeper?" Sam repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's vague. Did she mention anything specific? A name, a location?"
Pierce swallowed hard. "She mentioned someone. Someone who goes by Mr. X."
Sam suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. It sounded like something straight out of a bad novel. Mr. X? Really? But if there was anything she'd learned in her line of work, it was that reality often outstripped fiction in terms of sheer absurdity.
"You believe this 'Mr. X' is part of the group?"
Pierce nodded, his expression growing more desperate by the second. "I don't just believe it. I know it. I just don't have the proof to show anyone."
Sam leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. She drummed her fingers against her elbow, her mind racing. She'd dealt with shady characters and hidden networks before, but this had a different feel to it. It was murkier, more tangled, and the stakes felt higher than usual.
"I'll take the case," she said finally, her voice firm. "But let me be clear, Mr. Pierce: this isn't charity work. My fee is non-negotiable, and you'll need to give me full cooperation. That includes telling me anything, and I mean anything, that might help."
"I don't care about the money," Pierce said, pulling out his checkbook. His hands trembled as he wrote out the check, barely looking at it before sliding it across the desk. "Just find her. Please."
Sam didn't even glance at the amount. Desperation like his rarely came cheap, but the money was secondary now. There was something about this case that gripped her, something that told her she couldn't walk away even if she wanted to.
"I'll need more details. People she spent time with, places she went. Any social media accounts or emails you can access."
Pierce nodded quickly. "I'll get everything to you by tomorrow morning. Is there... anything else I should know?"
Sam stood up, offering her hand. "We're in business, Mr. Pierce. Get me those details, and I'll start looking into it right away."
Pierce shook her hand, his grip weak and clammy. He left the office with a haste that bordered on frantic, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click.
Sam stood there for a moment, watching the door, her mind already racing through possible leads. Something wasn't right about this case, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
As she moved toward the window, pulling the blinds apart to peer outside, her breath caught. Across the street, half-hidden in the shadows of a nearby building, a figure stood watching her office.
"Who the hell is watching me?" she muttered under her breath, her heart skipping a beat.
She blinked, and the figure was gone, as if they had never been there at all.
Sam's instincts screamed at her. Whoever they were, they knew more than they should. And that was never a good sign.
She hesitated, hand hovering over her phone, debating whether to call for backup. No. Not yet. She didn't have enough to go on. But she knew one thing for certain: this was no ordinary missing persons case. Something much bigger was at play here.
Taking a slow breath, she steeled herself. Whoever was watching had made the first move. Now, it was her turn.