by E H Night
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” he asked loudly. “Sorry for the interruption, but this is an emergency. As you all have heard, I’m sure, Alice Foster is missing. Edna here,” he said, pointing beside him, “she let us know that Alice didn’t show up for her last shift. Normally, we wouldn’t be too concerned in such a short amount of time, but given the circumstances, all of us at the station are taking this very seriously. She can’t be reached by phone, and no one has found her car. If anyone has any information at all, even something that doesn’t really seem important, please let me know. The smallest detail could help us find her.”
He looked around the room at the women. They all gossiped quietly to each other, with eyes big and bulging. They had so much to say, but just not to him. He stopped and focused on one elderly woman in particular who sat alone under a dryer. She had the hood lifted, and seemed very uncomfortable.
Every now and then, she glanced over from the sides of her eyes to Detective Darrow, appearing like a child who knew they were guilty of something. He walked over to her and sat in the empty seat beside her.
“Do you know something, Ma’am?” he asked, quietly. “Anything at all?”
She shifted in her seat and whispered, “I might, but I swore I wouldn’t tell. It might get her in trouble. I can’t be responsible for that.”
Detective Darrow nodded. “Well, what’s worse, ma’am — getting her in a little bit of trouble, or risking her life?”
The woman gasped, seeming appalled at the suggestion, but then she pursed her lips. “You’re right,” she said, shaking her head. “Just don’t mention that I was the one to tell you. I don’t need any of these loonies talking about me too.”
“That’s fine. I won’t say a word. Just tell me. What do you know?”
She cupped her hand to Detective Darrow’s ear. “She’s been doing Betty’s hair over at her house on the lake.”
He turned to look at her for a moment. “What’s the problem with that?” he asked, confused.
“She stole a client from the salon. Edna can’t make money off of that, so she could get fired. It’s a big deal to go to clients’ houses. I thought that was obvious,” she continued to whisper, more loudly this time.
Detective Darrow understood. “Is that all you know?” he asked.
“I know she was supposed to do her hair there on Tuesday night. She went over there most Tuesdays, actually. I saw her packing up Betty’s orange rollers when I stopped by to pick up a new bottle of shampoo before they closed that night.”
His face went pale, and he patted the woman on the back, lightly. “Thanks so much, Ma’am. I’ll head over there right away. And don’t worry. I’ll keep it a secret.”
She nodded and opened a magazine, trying to look preoccupied.
Detective Darrow walked back to the front of the salon and slammed a stack of flyers onto the receptionist’s desk. “If you all have some time, pass these around. If you hear anything at all, call the station. You can be anonymous if you wish. Thanks for your time, ladies.”
He waved to Edna, and smiled courteously to everyone else, before walking back out to his car.
“Hopefully Betty knows something,” he thought as he started the engine. “She’s my only lead right now.”
◆
Detective Darrow pulled into the driveway. Nothing seemed out of place, and Betty’s car was in the driveway. He saw Will’s wagon pushed up against the porch. His stomach churned from anxiousness as he approached the back door. Lifting a hand in the air, he made a fist and knocked several times. There was shuffling inside, and he heard Betty mumbling to herself as she got closer.
She turned the handle, and stood before him in complete disarray. Her hair was a mess, as if she’d fallen asleep with it wet, like it had been styled by a mix of the pillow and her bad dreams. She wore a tattered over-sized men’s shirt, and loose gray sweatpants. Her feet were bare and covered only by bruises and small scabby cuts.
“Yeah, what do you need officer?” she asked, appearing both confident and annoyed by his presence.
“Do you have a minute to talk? It’s very important,” he asked, stepping forward.
She looked behind herself at the mess that she called home and shrugged. “I haven’t cleaned in a while, but you can come in, I guess. What’s so important that you need to talk at this hour?”
“Is the morning not good for you, Mrs. Noe? I didn’t think it was too early. I apologize if I’m interrupting anything.” He spoke with the polite tone that the older generation appreciated.
She waved a weak finger in front of her face, and motioned for him to sit down on the couch the way that someone would instruct a dog.
He sat down, and leaned forward, unable to get comfortable. All around, he saw trash bags and wine bottles. The house was a complete mess, bordering on a health hazard. Judging her living conditions wasn’t important at the moment though, so he tried to ignore the food odors and the mountains of garbage. Even though it was cold outside, there were still a few flies lingering around.
“I guess I didn’t realize the time. Anyway, your reason for coming here is…?”
He could tell she wasn’t fond of his company and was growing more and more impatient the longer he acclimated to the house.
“You know Alice Foster, correct?” he asked, cutting right to the chase.
“Yeah, I know her. What about her?”
“She never showed up for yesterday’s shift, or for today’s either. She has been declared a missing person by our police department. Here, let me hand you a flyer.” He reached into his jacket, and unfolded a piece of paper, handing it to her.
She grabbed it, showing little interest, and held it out in front of her. “That’s not good at all. But, why did you come all the way over here to tell me about it?”
“Well,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting up more straight. “I heard that she comes over here on Tuesdays to do your hair sometimes. Seeing that she went missing on Tuesday, I figured I’d stop by to see if you’ve heard anything, or if you might have seen her that night. I’m trying to piece every last detail together to find out if anything can lead us to her somehow.”
Betty paced back and forth a couple times, and raised her hands above her head. She was nervous, but she could have passed as having been concerned for Alice.
“She never stopped by,” she said, with a matter-of-fact tone. “I mean, look at me. Is this the hair of someone who had a professional do it? Not at all. I ended up washing my own hair last night, and never got around to styling it. I figured she just got busy or something and didn’t show up. You know how young people are. They don’t think to call. I know her friend recently died too, so I assumed she might’ve just been a little depressed or something. God knows I can definitely relate to that feeling.”
Detective Darrow nodded and scanned the room one more time. While the place was disgusting, nothing really raised any red flags for him. Betty definitely hadn’t gotten her hair done the night before, so it seemed likely that Alice really had never made it over to the house. He wondered where had she actually gone after work then.
“Alright,” he said, standing to his feet. “Please, let me know if you hear something.”
“You know I will. I really hope she’s okay.”
“Oh, and Mrs. Noe —”
“M-hmm?”
“We’re doing everything we can to find Sarah, too. I don’t want you thinking that we just gave up on her. I know you’re bitter toward all of us. The whole town is growing impatient actually, but just understand that we’re doing everything possible to bring her home, too.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that,” she said, with insincerity in her heart.
“Yep. Alright. I’ll get out of here, then. Have a good day, Ma’am.”
He nodded and stepped outside.
◆
That night, to celebrate narrowly escaping a surprise visit from Detective Darrow, Betty decided that there would be a fam
ily dance party in the living room. She spent a decent amount of time pushing all of the furniture and bags of trash against one of the walls or shoving them into the kitchen. The only things that remained in the living room were the stereo and a small table for drinks and chips.
“Will!” she yelled down the basement stairs. “Get Alice dressed, and put on one of your ties. We’re going to have a party!”
“A party!” he yelled back excitedly from his mother’s rocking chair. “Okay, give me a few minutes and we’ll be right up!”
“Don’t take too long, okay? The chips are almost stale already.”
Will rummaged in the drawers and piles for a suitable dress for Alice. He found one of his mother’s favorites, and untied Alice’s wrists. He knew that she was too weak to fight back if she wanted to anyway. He shoved the dress into her lap, and gave her an encouraging smile before his attention turned to a pair of shoes.
“Here. Wear these too. Mama wore these at the funeral.”
“Funeral?” she asked. Her voice was weak, and she didn’t really want an explanation as to how he had acquired them. She’d just been surprised by his statement.
“That’s what I said. Hurry up. We have things to do.”
Alice slipped the dress over her shoulders, and slid the previous one down her waist, letting it fall to the floor. Judy’s clothes were a few sizes too big for her, so it made them easy to put on and to remove. That was the only benefit of having to wear them.
Will slid each shoe onto her feet, and helped her up. “There. Just like Mama.” He led her up the stairs, ignoring her sharp groans of pain as the infected cut on her ankle ripped open a little more. Had he known that she had started to bleed onto his beloved shoes, he might have considered paying more attention to the situation.
“Here she is,” Will said, moving himself behind Alice. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”
Betty made a sour face and rolled her eyes. “I always hated that dress. She can play with you later. Let’s have Sarah come back for the night. Would that be okay?”
Will pouted and looked down at the floor. “Fine.”
“Let me get her some different clothes, and I’ll be right back,” she said, while she headed upstairs. “And come put on your tie like I said.”
Will nodded and followed her up the stairs.
Within an hour, they were dressed like they were about to go to a hillbilly ball. Music filled the air, along with the occasional scent of garbage or wine. Will stood next to the stereo, singing an Elvis song, while Betty sang into her glass bottle. Alice stood in the corner, wearing one of Sarah’s dresses, with Judy’s shoes still on her feet.
Betty walked over and put her arms underneath Alice’s, forcing her sick-and-slumping body to dance along with her. She wobbled Alice across the floor like she was a water-logged Raggedy Anne doll, trying to mimic a dance as best as she could.
“Isn’t this fun, Sarah?” she asked. “Remember when we used to dance together all the time?”
Alice nodded to appease her. She knew that it would be easier to just go along with the delusions. Resisting only caused more problems. She was aware that Betty was unable to admit any of her faults. Any questioning or correcting seemed to lead the strange woman to feel attacked, which never ended well for anyone.
“Sing for us. I haven’t heard you sing in so long,” Betty suggested.
“I — I can’t,” Alice replied, with her voice weak and scratchy.
Betty stopped moving her around and dropped her hands down to her side. She watched as Alice collapsed onto the floor right in front of her. All of the excitement and life drained from her expression, and there was no empathy in her eyes. “What do you mean you can’t?” she asked with a voice as cold as winter.
“I don’t feel well. My throat hurts.”
“Why does your throat hurt, Sarah?” Betty asked, putting her hands onto her hips. She leaned forward a little, as if she were trying to see Alice a little better.
“I don’t know. It just —”
“You’re ruining everything right now. Did you really think that I’d believe you were Sarah? You’re an imposter. Why are you trying to trick us?”
“I’m not trying to trick you!” Alice cried out, her voice cracking on the last word.
“Will! Take this lunatic back down to the basement. I won’t stand by and let someone toy with our emotions like this in our own home. Do what you want with her. She’ll be meat by the weekend anyway.”
“But, Betty,” Will tried to understand. “I thought we were just playing. We can still dance without her.”
“No. Get her out of my face or I’m going to absolutely lose my mind.”
Will pouted and led Alice down the stairs. While he was used to Betty’s mood swings, he had been hoping to have a good time. He felt extremely disappointed, but he didn’t blame Alice, fortunately. He sat her down in the corner of the side room, bound her hands once more, and locked her inside.
◆
Detective Darrow had a bad feeling the entire night. He didn’t feel as if he had looked around the property enough while he was at Betty’s. When the morning came, he drove back to her house, planning on asking her a few more questions. At the very least, he figured that she might know where else he could look. Without her, he was at a dead end.
Right when he was about to open the driver’s side door to step out, he noticed Will sitting down by the shed. He hadn’t seen Will in a while, but he always liked him well enough. Remembering that he was always out walking around, Detective Darrow figured that it wouldn’t hurt to see if he knew anything about Alice. He walked down toward the lake, hoping for the best. Will sat, staring down at his feet, giggling and whispering. Detective Darrow looked down to see what was so amusing, and noticed that Will was wearing a pair of hot pink high heels. His feet were crammed inside of them, causing the leather to bulge out. His smaller toes were hanging out of the top, off to the side, unable to be squeezed into the pointed tip. Detective Darrow recognized them as Alice’s. They were one of her favorite pairs. She wore them to work most days.
“Will?” he asked, sternly. “Where did you get those shoes?”
Will looked up at him, and stopped giggling. His expression went from amused to frightened, and he stood up. He fell back down, unable to balance in the small heels.
“Will. I asked where you found those shoes. Those are Alice Foster’s, am I right?”
He took one of them off and threw it at Detective Darrow’s head, missing it, barely. He kicked the other shoe off, leaving it to fall into the mud, and ran back up toward the house.
Detective Darrow chased after him, and ran in through the back door. He chased Will all the way to the basement steps, just as Betty was reaching the top of them. She had gone downstairs to make sure Alice was still locked in the small basement room.
Will plummeted into Betty like a football player, knocking her down the steep wooden steps. She crashed into the concrete floor, and immediately went limp. Blood pooled out from behind her head, but Will hopped over her as if she were nothing more than a dish that he’d dropped. He fumbled with his keys and unlocked the side room, before shutting himself inside with Alice. There was no way to lock the door from the inside, but he didn’t consider any of the risks in that moment. To him, he wasn’t hiding Alice in the basement — he was running to his mother. He fell down beside her, grabbed onto her, and buried his face into her chest for safety.
He pulled away and stood back to his feet, pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself. In a matter of seconds, he started smacking his face over and over, and sank down into the rocking chair. In a desperate attempt to trance out into an even safer mental space, he rocked rapidly and hummed his favorite song.
Detective Darrow burst into the room and saw Alice’s thin body curled into a ball on the floor next to the completely mentally absent Will. Without even blinking, he reached for his radio and called for backup.
He hadn’t expected to find her so qu
ickly.
Chapter 20
“Trading Places”
The hospital was cold. No matter how many of those thick cotton blankets the nurses stacked on top of her, Alice’s bones still shook from beneath them. She hated spending her days and nights under what seemed like constant supervision. The bright lights made her feel exposed. She felt as if she were a zoo animal, on display for anyone who passed by to poke with needles, and to wheel her off into a new exhibit whenever they felt that it was necessary for her to have a change of scenery.