The Right Thing Read Online Free PDF Page B

back at him, dark eyes flashing, blue black hair fairly
bristling with indignation.
    “Well?”
    “I did this. I drove McKenzie away. She could be anywhere. Or dead.”
    “Not interested, Michael. It’s done. Figure it out like you’ve
figured everything else out in life challenging you. You can’t grieve and let
her go until you actually accept she’s gone. If she isn’t, then find her. I
know what I’m talking about.”
    Michael heard something in Jenifer’s voice at that moment, something
poking through his maudlin state of mind, but still he whined. “I’ve been trying.”
    “Then try harder. Expand the search. Hire more people. Throw money
at the problem. Ride it until it won’t carry you anymore and then decide. But
you’re a mess, in pieces and you aren’t coordinating things. It’s your job. You
fucked up. Fix it.”
    Fuck it. Trust Jenifer to lay it all out for him. Everyone else close to him
had been kind but kept their distance, probably because this was a side of him
they’d never seen and it scared the shit out of them. He didn’t need people
like that. He needed McKenzie. But he also realized if the same effort had been
made looking for McKenzie as had been made in driving her away his sub would be
home by now. Tied to the bed, plugged in every orifice, marked to his
satisfaction and pleasured to madness. That was where she should be. He stood, catching his balance against the weakness
brought on by eating nothing, drinking too much and allowing himself to be less
than a man. Jenifer smiled narrowly and accompanied him to the kitchen. Michael
hoped she would offer to cook him something, but clearly her job was done.
Punching him hard in the shoulder, Jenifer wished him luck and left. He picked
up the phone and ordered in then sat at the granite counter making notes and
outlining his new plan of attack.
     
    * * *
*
     
    Several weeks went by. Michael did some business but mostly rode the
collective asses of the people responsible for keeping the search going, coming
up with different and sometimes creative ideas for them to pursue in his
pursuit of McKenzie. He refused to believe something had happened to his woman,
although the trips to the morgue were horrific. After trip number four, Jenifer
again intervened and insisted DNA testing be done using a profile gleaned from
the hairs taken from McKenzie’s brush. The labs miraculously completed all
testing in record time when properly compensated and if the public sector got
fucked over and had to wait in line he didn’t care. He had the money and the
contacts and used them without a qualm.
    The detective agency had a veritable army of people out combing the
shelters and interviewing street people. All the churches and soup kitchens
were posted and visited regularly. People tried hard, some for money, some
because they had soft hearts. Again, he didn’t care. Everything was a means to
an end. He didn’t stop to think about what he’d do when he found McKenzie. He
was just going to find his sub. If she’d left the city then things would get
tougher, but now, in Michael’s head, nothing was insurmountable . The search would be expanded at
the end of the week to the areas surrounding the city and he was working on a
contact at the FBI as to how to file a missing person’s report country wide.
That was taking more finesse than anything. Seemed the Feds were less impressed
with money and position.
    Michael kept returning to dissect his screw up, though, wishing he
could turn the clock back, but it only served to remind him everyone had limits.
He found the contract McKenzie signed, and burned the damn thing, flushing the
ashes, appreciating that particular symbolism. Why he ever thought they needed
a contract was just a measure of how much he feared his sub’s power and figured
he could manage it with a piece of paper. And he fucking well broke it anyhow! McKenzie
had two established limits. She refused erotic asphyxiation and being