Meant for Me

3. Mason

Chapter 3

Mason

Two Days Later

“Are you sure you want to look at that tonight, man?” Jason asked, standing in the doorway and looking concerned. Except, it was hard to take his concern seriously with him standing there in jeans, a plaid button down shirt, boots, and a large brown cowboy hat. He took trying to be a cowboy seriously and all the guys at the station gave him hell about it.

“Some of the guys are going to Coyote Joe’s if you want to come,” he offered. “You’ve been staring at that folder for hours. I think you could use a drink … or twelve.”

The way I feel, I could drink a whole f*****g keg.

He was right, though. I had been staring at the file for hours, except I couldn’t bring myself to look at the contents. I got the call last night as I was driving home from the gym, and needless to say I wasn’t expecting what came through the line. A good friend of mine was found murdered; beaten to death and discarded like a piece of trash on the outskirts of Las Vegas over a week ago. His wife was still missing and there were no leads as of yet on where she could be. The thought of what could be happening to her right now made my blood run cold.

Jason took a seat in front of my desk and sighed. “What do you think could’ve happened? This makes the fourth dead fighter in three months. Weren’t you part of that scene a few years ago before you joined the force? From what I heard you were pretty lethal.”

I held the file tightly in my hands and nodded, remembering those days as if it was yesterday. “Yeah, I started MMA training when I was eighteen, and by the time I turned twenty-one I was primed and ready to fight. I was mostly undefeated during my two years of competing, losing only a couple of matches. I would have made it to the big time if I didn’t drop out.”

“Why did you then?” Jason asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your fighting. I always hear it from other people.”

“That’s because I was a goddamn mess back then with a head the size of Texas. All I did was fight and f**k, blowing tons of money on stupid s**t. When my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer I had no choice but to come home. I was travelling every week going here and there, and I refused to get someone else to take care of her. I gave it all up for her and never went back.”

“Do you ever regret your decision?”

“Yes and no,” I answered honestly. “Or at least not the part of leaving it behind to take care of my mother. I loved fighting, and if I would’ve lived my life the right way then I could’ve made something of myself. I was going down the wrong path and I couldn’t see it. I just hate it took her dying to see the real me and what I had become.”

Jason sighed heavily and stood, gazing warily down at me. “I understand, brother. The guys and I will be at the bar until later tonight if you still want to join us. If not, we will see you on Monday.”

Nodding, I said, “Sounds good, man. Don’t do anything stupid tonight.”

“Me? Never,” he joked incredulously. “I’m always a good boy.”

His laugh echoed all the way down the hall, and once I heard the door to the station shut I knew I was alone to look at the file without being interrupted. Taking a deep breath, I lowered my gaze to the papers and slowly began to read. The pictures taken at the scene were horrific. I could barely recognize the man who had mentored me and shown me everything I would ever need to know about professional MMA fighting. I didn’t have to read the medical report to know that he had sustained a massive head injury and multiple broken ribs, which I was sure had punctured a lung if not both of them.

His name was Austin Moore and besides being a fighter he also had a dream to open up his own restaurant. He went to culinary school with his brother, and they both had made a promise that one day they would make their dreams come true and open up a family business. Austin loved fighting, but I knew the main reason he worked so hard at it was to win enough money to fulfill the other dream he pursued. He wanted it all and he was so close.

His wife, Summer, was one of the gentlest women I’d ever met and with her being missing for two weeks now the chances of her being alive diminished rapidly. I remembered the day Austin and I met her very well. He was bummed about my cousin, Melissa, turning him down for a date knowing very well she was seeing someone already, so we trained extra hard and decided to go at it for an hour longer than usual. As soon as we walked out of the gym he wasn’t paying attention and bumped right into Summer, making her spill a cup of soda all over the front of her nursing scrubs. She in turn dumped the rest on him and after that they became inseparable.

Two years later, they married and moved away to Virginia where her family lived, and about that time was when I began training on my own and entering fights. I hated not having him in my corner, but once I started making money I hired another coach and a personal trainer. Austin and I still made sure to keep in touch over the years, calling each other weekly to catch up. I never missed any of his televised fights and he tried on several occasions to get me back into the fighting scene. It was hard to believe he was gone. He was only three years older than me with so much to live for.

Why does bad s**t always happen to the good people? Why can’t it be the other way around?

The next picture in the file I came to happened to be one of Summer. She was smiling in that big, goofy grin that made Austin melt each time he laid eyes on her. Her bright blonde hair reminded me so much of Claire, as well as the bright blue eyes and the shape of her face. I didn’t want to think of how f****d up I would be right now if it was Claire in this situation.

Claire …

It had been so long since I’d talked to her, but I could still remember the way her voice would dip lower when she’d speak my name and the way she smelled when she’d walk right by me. I checked on Claire every now and again when I’d call my pregnant cousin to make sure she was doing all right. I later found out that a month after I left she started seeing some professional football player who also happened to be someone she’d been off and on with for years. At first I was pissed, but then I had no reason to be because I was the one who left her. I had no right to get angry over her seeing someone else, but dammit, if it didn’t make me want to kick someone’s a*s.

It was over … it didn’t matter anymore.

After about three hours looking thoroughly through the file, there was nothing in it that led to answers. There was no evidence as to who did it or what happened, but with four fighters showing up dead, all being found in the same way—beaten and b****y—there had to be a link somewhere. I just had to find it.

“What kind of trouble did you get into in Vegas, Austin?” I murmured out loud. “You never did anything stupid.”

Frustrated, I stacked all the crumpled papers on my desk into a disheveled pile and decided to call it a night. Maybe I should go out to the bar, I thought. I could sure use the liquor and a nice pair of t**s to keep my mind off of s**t … off of everything and everyone, including Claire.

Pulling out my phone, I sent a quick text to Jason.

Me: I’m on my way.

Jason’s reply was almost instant.

Jason: Hurry the hell up. The chicks are hot tonight.

Grabbing my coat, I turned off the light in my office and made it halfway down the hall before the phone started to ring. My extension wouldn’t just ring unless someone really needed or wanted to talk to me. Quickly, I ran back to my office, turned on the light, and reached down for the phone.

“Mason Bradley,” I barked hurriedly, throwing my coat on the desk.

“Good evening, Mason, or better yet I should probably say good morning since it’s past midnight out there in North Carolina. I wasn’t expecting you to answer, but now that I have you on the phone we can get down to business,” the man said matter-of-factly.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“My name is Ryan Griffin. I’m the Chief of Police of the Las Vegas PD. I was the one who granted you permission to see Austin Moore’s file.”

Cautiously, I replied, “I see. Well, thank you for that, but what can I do for you, Mr. Griffin?”

“First off, I want to say I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. When I checked into your background I had no idea you were close friends with Austin until I talked to his family. I also happened to find that not only were you his friend, but you were an impressive MMA fighter as well.”

I chuckled halfheartedly. “Yeah, those were the glory days,” I muttered. By the way I said that it almost made me sound like I was eighty years old, but really I was only thirty. My fighting days weren’t actually that long ago.

“I know what you mean,” Ryan replied. “My wife still remembers how I used to look when I was in my twenties and often reminds me of it in hopes I’d get that way again. I haven’t seen those days in thirty years. Anyway, forgive my nonsense, I didn’t mean to get off track. So back to Austin. His family told me that if anyone knew where he would be fighting in Vegas it would be you, but we already know he had a fight at the MGM Grand Garden Arena. Do you happen to know what else he was doing out there, or why he would get mixed in with a wrong crowd?”

Sighing, I sat down in my chair and leaned over my desk, staring at Austin’s file. “No, I have no clue. Austin was always a straight edge guy, never getting into trouble, never got arrested or did drugs. It makes no sense to me.”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?” Ryan asked.

I thought back to the last time he called me and realized it was right before he left to go to Vegas. I remembered the way he sounded; so happy and full of life. He had won all of his matches for the past year, except one, and was on his way to making his name into the big times.

“It was about two weeks ago,” I told him. “It was right before he left. He always wanted to remind me of his fights so I wouldn’t miss them. Have you gotten any leads? Because what I’m seeing in the file isn’t getting me anywhere.”

The sound of papers shuffling in the background along with Ryan’s grumble didn’t exactly sound too enthusiastic. “There are some leads that we’re considering, but nothing concrete as of yet. Do you remember hearing about this same type of thing happening about four years ago in Ohio?” he asked curiously. “It would’ve been after you already quit fighting. The only difference is that the deaths were scattered out more.”

Yeah, I remember seeing something about those deaths. Thinking back to those killings, I remembered being curious about them just because the men were MMA fighters, but when the cases were closed I moved on and never thought more about it. I knew several fighters who were so hotheaded they would go looking for fights, especially in the bars.

“Yes, I remember that time, but vaguely. I didn’t exactly follow too much about it. Have you talked to anybody, possible suspects perhaps?” I asked.

“There’s one guy we’ve spoken to who is a club owner out here and who also hosts his own MMA fights. He’s approved to have them and it just so happens all of his stories and alibis are legit. We can’t find a single discretion out of the man, so we ruled him out for now. Basically, what we’re looking at is an illegal underground fighting ring, and with it being Vegas I’m sure there’s some big money involved as well. We need someone on the inside, someone who could get in with no questions asked and someone who already has the knowledge of how the fighting world works.” He paused for a second to clear his throat. “Which is where I’m hoping you come in,” he finished, sounding hopeful.

“Excuse me? You have got to be kidding me.” What the hell did he want me for? “What do I have to do with any of this?” I questioned suspiciously. “How am I going to be able to help you?”

Ryan paused for a second and took a deep breath. “Before I go into those details I want you to answer me one question … what lengths would you go through to find your friend’s killer? What if there was a way all of this could come to an end with your help, would you do it?”

Closing my eyes, I laid my head on the desk and set the phone down for a second. I would do anything to find out what was going on. I didn’t have to think twice about it, but I knew what he was going to ask me to do and it wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was most likely going to be one of the most dangerous missions I’ve ever gone on.

As soon as I lifted my head and opened my eyes, the image of Austin’s broken body flashed in my mind along with the vision of his beautiful wife who had gone missing. It was all the push I needed.

“I’ll do it,” I answered, putting the phone back to my ear. “I would do anything to bring Austin’s killer to justice. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief and filled me in on everything. After our conversation ended at three in the morning, I grabbed Austin’s file and headed home to pack.

I had a plane to catch.