Little Girl Gone

Logan leaned across the table, and asked in a very low, steady voice, “Do you know who has her?”

Tooney pressed his lips together and looked away.

Harp touched his son’s arm. “Can we…?” He nodded sideways toward the front door.

Logan glared at him, not moving.

“Please,” his father said.

Logan remained motionless for a few more seconds, then pushed himself up, and walked outside.

There was a little patio area in front for customers who wanted to eat al fresco. Currently it was empty, so Logan took a seat at the table farthest from the door. His father exited a moment later, and joined him.

Before Harp could open his mouth, Logan said, “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I do know that Toony’s making a huge mistake. For God’s sake, his granddaughter is missing! If it was your grandchild, you’d do anything you could to find her.” He paused. “We both know how I feel about the FBI, but Tooney needs to call them now. You need to convince him of that.”

His dad looked resigned as he shook his head. “He’ll never call them.”

“Then you need to do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I…I promised him.”

“So the hell what? This is a girl’s life we’re talking about.” Logan leaned back. “Dammit, I’ll call them myself, then.”

“You can’t, either.”

“Sure I can.”

“No. I also promised him you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t care. I didn’t promise.” Logan pushed up from his chair.

“Logan, sit back down.”

Logan looked at his father, but remained standing.

Harp sighed. “If the people who have her get even a hint that the FBI, or the police, or any other organization for that matter is looking for them, they will kill her for sure.”

“Do you know what’s going on, Dad? Did he tell you?”

“Most of it.”

“Then tell me.”

“It’s not my place.”

“Then I have no choice.”

Logan pulled out his phone, and punched in the number for information. Once the connection was made, he hit the speaker button so his father could hear how serious he was. The first automated prompt asked him for the city. “Los Angeles.” Then the name. “Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Harp pleaded with his eyes for his son to hang up.

The voice gave Logan the number, then asked if he’d like to be connected. “Yes.”

Before the phone had even began to ring, his dad said, “Logan, please.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

It took two rings before his father finally nodded.

“Federal Bureau of Investigation. How may I—”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, cutting off the voice that answered. “Wrong number.”

He sat back down, and set the phone on the table, making sure his dad knew how easy it would be for him to pick it up and call again.

“Give me three minutes,” Harp said, then stood up. “I need to talk to Tooney. He really should be the one to tell you.”

“Dad…”

His father held up his hands to stop Logan from saying anything more. “If he doesn’t, I will. Okay?”

Logan hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

It took him five minutes, not three. When he returned, the whole group was with him, each carrying a cup of coffee, Jerry with an additional bowl of fries in his other hand.

Harp and Tooney were the only ones who came over to Logan’s table. Barney and Jerry grabbed a table at the other side of the patio, while the marines all remained standing, covering the edge along the street.

Logan’s dad had brought out two cups of coffee. He set one in front of Logan, then sat in the same chair he’d been in before. Reluctantly, Tooney took the chair next to him.

Instead of waiting, Logan decided to start. “I know this is difficult, but unless you convince me otherwise, I