The Case Of Tom Barker

By Nitika Prakash Ankolekar

Brooksville was the kind of town where not much ever happened. The streets were quiet, the houses old but sturdy, and Joe’s Diner was the heart of it all. Most evenings, you could find me in my usual corner booth, sipping coffee and reflecting on the little things that made life here feel almost perfect. As I sat there completely lost in my void of thoughts ,my friend Mary who worked at the diner came and whispered . 

“Hey, have you heard about Tom?” Mary’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, her eyes scanning the room as if she were trying to gauge whether anyone had noticed something unusual. Mary was the type of waitress who remembered everyone’s name, even if they hadn’t been in for years. So when she looked worried, it was worth paying attention.  

“Tom? Tom Barker?” I asked, looking up from my coffee, attempting to sound nonchalant. But I knew exactly who she was talking about. Tom Barker had owned the local auto shop for as long as I could remember. A good guy, friendly, always ready to lend a hand or share a beer after hours. He was the kind of person who would fix your car without charging you an arm and a leg, and you could always count on him for a good chat. A simple but great guy.

“Yeah,” Mary said, lowering her voice. “He’s gone. Just vanished. No one’s seen him since last night.”  

That caught me off guard. Tom didn’t just disappear. He was a disciplined guy. Every morning, he opened his shop at six sharp, and by five, he was done for the day. Weather rain or shine Tom would always stick to his schedule  . So the thought that Tom Barker had simply vanished into thin air didn’t really sit well with me.  

“Gone? You mean he shifted towns.” I asked, putting my cup down, trying to keep my cool. But even I could sense that the idea felt wrong.  

“Not like that. No one’s heard a word from him. His shop’s still locked up. The guy doesn’t just take off. And the strange part is, no one’s heard from him. Not his wife, not his friends—nobody.”  

This was starting to feel unsettling. Tom had always been reliable, dependable, so what could have caused this? 

The thought hung in the air for a moment, but then Mary said something that made my stomach drop.  

“There’s talk going around, you know? People are saying he got tangled up with some dangerous folks.”  

I raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous folks?”  

“Yeah,” Mary replied, looking around as if to ensure no one else could hear. “The kind of people you definitely don’t want to cross. Rumor has it he got involved with a guy named Vic Carter. You know who that is, right?”

The moment she said it, a chill ran down my spine. Vic Carter was not someone you wanted to cross. He was involved in a web of shady businesses—gambling, loan sharking, and worse. Vic operated from the shadows, never in plain sight, and those who crossed him often found themselves with a few too many “accidents” in their past. But what did Tom have to do with him? Tom was just a mechanic, the kind of guy who helped out the little guy. He wasn’t the sort to get mixed up with dangerous people.  

“Vic Carter? What do you mean? What’s Tom got to do with him?” I asked, trying to make sense of it all.  

“I don’t know the details,” Mary replied, her voice dropping even lower as she glanced around nervously, “but I’ve heard that Tom got involved with Vic. Something he shouldn’t have. And now he’s missing. No one knows where he is.”

My mind was racing now. This wasn’t just some random disappearance. Something was happening here, and it was bigger than either of us could understand.  

“Where’s Vic now?” I asked, standing up.  

“I’m sure he’s around,” Mary said. “But be careful, okay? If he knows you’re looking into Tom, he might not take too kindly to it.”  

I nodded, more to myself than to her. I wasn’t backing off now. This was getting interesting.  

____________________________________________________________________________________

I drove straight to Tom’s auto shop. It was just outside of town, tucked away behind a few abandoned buildings. The place usually buzzed with activity—cars getting repaired, people coming in for advice, or just to shoot the breeze. But tonight, it was eerily quiet. Too quiet.  

The door creaked as I pushed it open. The smell of oil, rubber, and grease filled the air. Everything looked the same—tools scattered across the benches, half-finished repairs in various stages of progress. But there was something wrong. Something off. Tom’s personal coffee cup was still sitting on the counter, but there was no sign of him. It felt like he’d just... vanished in the middle of his work.

I wandered through the shop, searching for any signs of a struggle or clues that might help me. That’s when I spotted it: a crumpled napkin on the counter, partially obscured by a pile of papers. I picked it up, my fingers shaking a bit as I unfolded it. There were only a few hastily written words: “Don’t trust Vic.” 

That was all. A warning? A message from Tom? Or was someone else trying to convey something? Whoever left it clearly wanted me to be aware of something. I couldn’t dwell on it for long, though; the sound of the front door opening drew my attention.

Vic Carter walked in, and my stomach dropped. He was tall, wearing a black leather jacket, his dark eyes cold and calculating. A smile crept across his face when he spotted me.  

“Well, well, look who’s come to pay a visit to Tom,” Vic said, his voice low and mocking.  

I stood my ground. “Where is he, Vic? What did you do to Tom?”  

Vic leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “What makes you think I know where Tom is? Or that I had anything to do with it?”  

“You’re involved in this, aren’t you?” I shot back, keeping my voice steady. “Tom was mixed up with you, and now he’s gone. You know something.”  

Vic’s eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of something on his face—a flicker of fear or maybe guilt—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

 “You’re barking up the wrong tree, friend,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer to me. “You’d better turn around and leave before this gets ugly.”  

I wasn’t intimidated. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to Tom.”  

Vic’s expression hardened. “I said, leave.”  

The tension in the air was palpable. I wasn’t about to back down, but I wasn’t foolish either. This was a man who could easily make me disappear  too. I took one last glance around the shop, searching for something more, and then headed toward the door.  

Just as I was about to step outside, a loud bang echoed from behind me—like something heavy had fallen or slammed against the wall. I whipped around, heart racing, but there was nothing there. Vic remained by the wall, arms crossed, his face a mask of indifference.  

I didn’t stick around to investigate the noise. I stepped out of the shop, my mind racing. Something was off. Vic was definitely involved, but there was more to this than just him.

The following day, I reached out to Joe, one of Tom’s old friends who had been working with him for years. Joe seemed anxious and on edge, glancing around as if he feared someone was eavesdropping. 

“You really shouldn’t be getting involved in this, man,” Joe said, his voice low as I settled into a corner booth at a quiet bar. 

“I don’t have a choice, Joe. Tom’s gone. And I have a feeling Vic and his brother Danny might know something.”

Joe's face went pale at the mention of Danny. “Vic isn’t the issue. It’s Danny. He’s the one pulling all the strings. Vic? He’s merely the figurehead. Danny’s the one with the real power. Tom got caught up in something with them. Something significant. And now... now they’re trying to erase their tracks.”

“Erase their tracks?” I echoed, my heart racing. “What do you mean?”

“Tom knew too much. He was about to expose everything. He had proof—things that could land Danny in prison for life. But now...” Joe gulped. “Now he’s missing. And I don’t think they’re finished with him.”

I leaned back, allowing the weight of the information to settle in. This was more serious than I had realized. Danny Carter was the true danger. I needed to find Tom before it escalated further.

The game had shifted. It wasn’t just about Tom anymore; it was about stopping Danny and Vic from hiding their operation. It was about seeking justice. And it was about survival.  

I drove back to the diner that night, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. Mary was behind the counter, wiping a glass absentmindedly as I walked in.  

“Well?” she asked, her voice softer than usual. “Did you get your answer?”  

“Yeah,” I said, giving her a grim smile. “I know who’s behind this. It’s Vic. It’s Danny. And they made a mistake. They left something behind—a clue. I’m not walking away until I find Tom.”  

Mary’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Be careful,” she whispered.  

“I’m always careful,” I replied, even though I knew I wasn’t. This was bigger than anything I’d ever faced. But I wasn’t backing down.  

The game was on.  

AND I WAS JUST GETTING STARTED.

By Nitika Prakash Ankolekar