Dupont Circle Station was just starting to slow down from the busyness of the five o'clock afternoon rush when Mackenzie and Bryers arrived. The conversation along the way was once again surface-level and stale as Bryers remained quiet and reserved. As they stepped out of the car and walked toward the station, Mackenzie truly felt awkward for the first time. She didn't think he resented her yet, but he was likely having second thoughts about whatever scheme he and Ellington had cooked up.
Bryers finally cracked their silence as they entered the station. He stepped to the side of the doors and watched the crowd of people threading through the place.
"You familiar with this place?" he asked.
"No," Mackenzie said. "I've always gone through Union Station."
Bryers shrugged. "It doesn't matter which station you're at; there's always going to be a corner somewhere that's a little seedier than the rest of the place. The rough part is that it's usually well hidden."
"So you're thinking she was taken on her way back home? You think someone grabbed her here when she was in between buses?"
"It's a possibility. What do you think?"
"I think we should be checking Black Mill Street. You and the bus driver said the place was bad news."
"And we'll probably end up there," Bryers said. "But I'm playing a hunch here. You work this city long enough you start to accumulate a sort of hunch about certain things."
His cryptic talk was annoying, but she figured she could actually learn something if she could just shut up and watch. After a minute or so of standing by the doors and watching the crowd, Bryers moved slowly forward, motioning for Mackenzie to follow him. She stayed close, but not so close that she was crowding him. He walked through the crowd nonchalantly, as if he had no real purpose for being there. He blended in quite well; only someone who really took the time to study him might suspect that he was some sort of law enforcement official.
They made their way through the main concourse and out toward where six buses were waiting. Passengers were stepping off of two of the buses while the others idled, waiting for passengers. As they headed toward the buses, Mackenzie looked at the destination indicators above the windshields. As far as she could tell, the next stops for these buses were all within the DC historic district or Georgetown.
"Over here," Bryers said.
Mackenzie looked away from the buses and stayed behind Bryers as he walked further down the concourse. The buses were behind them now as the crowd thinned out a bit. Out of nowhere, the scene seemed to change simply by rounding a corner. There were fewer people in casual or business-casual attire. She saw a homeless man sitting against the wall and three teenagers dressed in mostly black, adorned with large earrings, nose piercings, and tattoos everywhere.
Bryers slowed as they rounded this corner, again taking in the scene. Mackenzie did the same, trying to observe the layout of the place and the makeup of the people the same way he did. It only took a few seconds before she saw something that instantly put her on guard.
A young man with a short, nearly military buzz haircut and dressed in a plain T-shirt and jeans was speaking to a girl that was surely no older than sixteen. Mackenzie knew the look on her face because it was easy to read on most girls her age: she was liking the attention the guy was giving her, but was also uncomfortable in being approached. She saw that the guy had a hand in his pocket. She was pretty sure he wasn't packing, but there were numerous other things that he could be concealing.
Without looking over his shoulder to speak to her, Bryers asked: "You see him?"
"Twenty-something buzz-cut speaking to the minor?" she said.
"Bingo."
Still, they did not move. Mackenzie knew why even though she already didn't like the way the scene was playing out. Bryers was waiting for the creep to make a move-to do something that would warrant someone of Bryers's authority to step in and intervene.
They watched the scene unfold as they did what they could to blend in. Mackenzie felt herself wanting to surge forward as it played out predictably. The guy inched closer and closer. He was doing a lot of smiling and trying to look the girl in the eyes. She smiled back flirtatiously but looked at the ground more than she looked at him.
Slowly, he reached out and touched her shoulder. His hand rested there for a while before the girl stepped awkwardly away. The creep followed up by laughing and then stepping into her, placing his arm around her. He tried pulling her close but the girl stepped away. A look of frustration flashed across the guy's face before he stepped forward again, with a bit of anger this time. When he reached out to put his arm around her again, Bryers stepped forward. Mackenzie followed along, trying to make herself remain in the role of a student.
"Is there a problem here?" Bryers asked, stepping into the girl's path. "Is this guy harassing you?"
The girl looked up, surprised. She looked instantly relieved but then looked back to the ground, maybe a little embarrassed.
"I don't think so," the girl said. "Some guys just don't take no for an answer."
"Shut up, bitch," the crewcut guy said. He then looked directly at Bryers and said: "What business is it of yours, anyway?"
Bryers withdrew his ID so fast that it was like watching a gunslinger go for his irons. "It's my business in more ways than you want to imagine," he said.
"Oh," crewcut said. "Well, I think I might-"
And then he turned and ran.
"Ah, hell," Bryers said. He started to take off after the young man but Mackenzie couldn't stay still any longer.
"You stay with the girl," she said. "I'll get him."
"Are you sure?" Bryers asked. "I don't know if-"
"I'm sure," she said, already starting to sprint after the suspect.
Without looking back for confirmation from Bryers, Mackenzie dashed forward. There wasn't much of a crowd assembled along the concourse, giving her few obstacles to contend with. Within two seconds, she knew she'd catch up to the creep easily. He was running on panic and fear while her own strides were balanced and controlled.
The idiot even stopped to look over his shoulder, further giving her the edge. When he saw that she was on his heels, he found another gear. But by then, Mackenzie already had him. She gave an extra push, finding her own next gear, and got within arms' reach of him. The few people standing in her way saw what was occurring and had stepped out of the way, mainly for their own safety but also to watch what might happen.
Her hand fell on his shoulder and all it took was a hard push downward to halt him. His feet slid out from underneath him and he went to the cement sidewalk on his back. He let out a cry that was nearly comical but the hard impactful noise of his body hitting the pavement was not funny at all.
She took a moment to gauge his condition and when she was confident he had broken nothing and was still coherent, she dropped a knee into his chest and looked back toward Bryers. He was jogging along, looking rather concerned. The girl they had perhaps rescued was striding along beside him. She looked a bit frightened but also excited. Mackenzie saw a bit of joy in her face when she spotted her would-be harasser pinned on the ground.
All around them, a few bystanders started to applaud. Others looked slightly horrified at what they had just witnessed. Bryers flashed his badge to the gathered crowd. "Get going," he said. "The show is over. Get moving, everyone."
When they started to break up and continue on their respective ways, Bryers came over to Mackenzie and dropped to a knee.
"Up, please," Bryers said curtly.
Mackenzie got up, trying to gauge the expression on his face. He was angry, that much was clear. She wondered if she had been a little too rough in bringing the suspect down. Or maybe she shouldn't have given chase without his express permission.
As she got to her feet, Bryers slowly helped the perp to his feet. Mackenzie saw that the guy was bleeding from a small cut along the right side of his head. That side of his face was also a little red. She was positive he'd have one hell of a bruise there tomorrow.
"Come with me for a second," Bryers said.
"Get your hands off of me, man!"
Bryers grabbed the guy's arm and drew him close. "Remember that badge I showed you? The one that sent you running like a lunatic? That badge says you listen to me or find yourself in a world of trouble. Got me?"
"Whatever, man," the guy said. He stopped struggling against Bryers then and allowed himself to be led away from the gathering crowd.
Bryers cut his eyes in Mackenzie's direction but didn't actually look at her. It was pretty clear that he was pissed. "Check out the girl while I handle this mess," he said.
It was not a question, not a request…it was a demand. He was asking her to babysit while he questioned the suspect. And maybe she deserved it…but it felt awful.
Mackenzie watched him go as she walked over to the girl. She tried to ignore Bryers's reaction as she led the girl to a nearby bench. They sat down together but it was clear that the girl wanted to be long gone.
"Are you okay?" Mackenzie asked.
"I'm fine," she said.
"Do you know that guy?" Mackenzie asked.
"No. He just came up to me when I got off of the bus and started talking to me."
"What did he talk about?"
"Oh, he didn't waste any time. He said how pretty I was and then asked how old I was. When I told him I was sixteen, he asked if I was looking to make some easy money."
"Do you have a parent around here anywhere?"
"Not here, no. I'm visiting my dad. Mom tossed me on a bus to visit him for the weekend. But dear old Dad is working late. So I was going to have to catch a cab from here."
"What's your name?" Mackenzie asked.
The girl looked suspiciously at her but gave her name anyway…or what she wanted them to think her name was. "Jen," she said.
"Well, how about we call you that cab, Jen?" Mackenzie asked.
Jen looked at her like she was stupid. "That would be great. Thanks."
Mackenzie pulled out her phone and started to dial when Jen stopped her.
"That guy…do you think he would have hurt me if you guys hadn't showed up?"
"There's no way to know for sure," Mackenzie said.
"Well, thanks."
Mackenzie nodded and placed the call to the cab company. When the phone started ringing in her ear, she looked back over to Bryers. She saw that he'd placed the suspect in handcuffs and had him pressed against the wall. Bryers, meanwhile, was on his phone to call it in.
And maybe, Mackenzie thought, to complain about my carelessness with a suspect.
And just like that, Mackenzie started to feel this amazing opportunity she had been handed slipping right out of her hands.