“There’s an old school around here somewhere,” Zeke said, pulling her from her reverie. “We can hang out there for a while.”
Zeke leaned over Sue where she lay on the old mattress in the back of the van. She moaned in pleasure. Her fingers entwined in his hair as she gazed down toward where his head rested between her legs. Moonlight filtered weakly through the tinted windows, and they had propped a flashlight up on a pillow. She noticed the pale roots along the part in his hair and understood for the first time that the glossy black color of his hair was artificial. Until this moment, she had never questioned the lighter color of his pubic hair.
“Do you dye your hair?” she asked before thinking.
His tongue stopped moving and a menacing silence filled the air. Slowly, he raised his head to look into her eyes, his face cold and unreadable. “Why did you say that?” he asked evenly, but she could tell he was displeased.
Not another mood, please. “I don’t know,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I think it’s great. It’s good. It’s smart to choose your own color, I mean, not be locked in. To be able to tell Mother Nature to piss off, you know.”
He relaxed back onto her legs and began stroking her hips sensually.
“I’m dark,” he said quietly. “Inside, I’m dark. I need the outside to match the inside.”
“I like it,” she said, quick to calm the waters.
“It’s probably time for some touch up. We’ll get some dye tomorrow.” He crawled up on her body and slid into her effortlessly.
The van was in a clump of bushes behind the abandoned school on the outskirts of Assaria. Nobody was around for miles, and the old hulk looming over them was barely visible in the darkness.
When Zeke had first pulled into the rutted road that led up to the derelict school, he went slowly over the bumps, squinting as he concentrated on his driving. Sue could hear the swish of dried weeds brush against the bottom of the van. The old path led up a small incline to a brick monstrosity, abandoned for years, and surrounded by trees and brush atop a small rise. When they had rolled to a stop before the three-story building, Zeke rested his arms on top of the steering wheel and stared. “Oh, yeah,” he said quietly. “We could have some fun here.”
They made their way cautiously over the uneven ground before crossing the threshold into the main entrance. They wandered around for a short time. Most of the rooms were in a dangerous state of disrepair. A corner of the massive roof had caved in, and a large number of the windows were broken. Zeke had wanted to sleep inside the building, but it was too cold. A harsh wind howled mercilessly through the empty rooms and stirred the debris on the floors. There was also evidence of rodents.
So instead, they decided to sleep in the van their first night of freedom, going into town only long enough to buy gasoline and supplies. Sue wanted a shower, but that was impossible. Zeke decided to humor her and picked up several gallons of water and a pot to heat it in so they could clean up. “We can’t have anyone in town spot any light out here, so we’ll just make a small fire inside on the concrete floor in the basement. We can wash up there,” he told her.
Sue nodded, but she already missed the comforts of home. It was cold as a grave inside the building, and nearly as dirty. Taking a sponge bath in those surroundings was more than a little unpleasant. The big school echoed eerily with their presence, and she kept looking over her shoulder expecting to find someone watching them. She was relieved when they returned to the vehicle.
Now, however, as Zeke moved inside her, she had a different perspective. She told herself this was heaven. They were wild and free. Just like the gypsies Zeke had mentioned. She clung to him and moaned in satisfaction while looking up at the upholstered ceiling of the van. The cold night air swirled outside, making eerie sounds as it snuck through the crevices of the abandoned building nearby, and then crept down to investigate the van that had invaded its space.
Hiring an Investigator
William Falstaff pulled up in front of the house, grabbed his notebook and recorder, and walked briskly up the sidewalk. He was not a large man, only about five feet, seven inches, but squarely built and in good physical shape for a smoker. With a full head of auburn hair, pale complexion, serious expression, broad chest, and muscular arms, he looked exactly like what he was: a former phys. ed. teacher.
He glanced around the property. The Cox family lived in a rambling two-story house flanked by well-tended shrubs and located in an unremarkable middle-class neighborhood. Although the modest home had seen better days, it was clean and tidy, the sidewalk and driveway carefully edged, and the flowerbeds weeded. A light rain had begun to fall and the wind carried a pervasive chill. Pulling his coat up around his neck, he rang the doorbell and waited. He was ushered into the house by a tall man wearing a pair of gray slacks and a plaid shirt, whose physique had gone to plumpness but retained an impression of its former fitness.
“Mr. Falstaff?” Frank asked.
“Will. And you are?”
The man stuck out his hand. “Frank Cox. Come on in.” He stepped back to allow Will entry. “This is my wife, Linda.” He indicated a fidgety woman perched on the edge of a flowered sofa.
Will took in the eighty’s décor and concluded the family had inherited some well-preserved furnishings from a parent. These were thrifty people, he decided, half expecting their television to be sprouting rabbit ears. It wasn’t.
Linda nodded at him from the couch, twisting her hands in her lap. Light brown hair, the frizzy victim of a recent permanent, capped her head. She looked like everyone’s distant aunt, wearing polyester pants that would have been better suited to someone her mother’s age, and a yellow sweater over a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Behind her wire-rim glasses, her eyes were red and tired.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Falstaff,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly steady. She looked as if she might burst into hysterical fits at any moment. She started to stand up, but then sank back onto the sofa, lacking the motivation to rise.
“Will.” He corrected her gently, and reached out a hand, which she pressed briefly with her fingers. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over one arm.
“Yes, fine. Will. Won’t you please sit down? Would you like something to drink?” Linda remembered her manners.
“No, thank you. Just had some coffee.” Taking an armchair, he fished in the pockets of his coat and produced a notebook and pen, along with the small recorder. “I’d like to get started here, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Cox.” He turned to lay the coat over the back of the chair.
“Sure, sure,” Frank answered for her as he paced the living room.
“I want to record our conversation, if that’s okay with you.” He placed the device on the coffee table. “No one will ever hear the recordings except me and my partner when we transcribe notes for the file. It’s all confidential and just for my own information. Can I have your permission to record?”
They both nodded and Will turned on the little machine, reminding them he would need verbal responses. He told them he had never had any luck recording a nod. They didn’t smile, but that was okay.
“I understand your daughter is missing,” Will began gently. “Why don’t you bring me up to speed on what’s happened so far?”
Frank cleared his throat and ran a hand through his thinning hair.
“Susan vanished.” Frank’s voice choked, but he regained control. “As I told your partner, they found her car abandoned outside of town at the old Founders Cemetery, keys still in the ignition. She left a note on the seat. That was this morning, and we still haven’t heard a thing. The police won’t file a missing person report because she’s over eighteen and it appears that she left voluntarily. We don’t know where to turn. She doesn’t answer her cell phone and nobody has seen her.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “This is completely outside her character. She has a good life here, was in her second year of college, had a part-time j
ob. She seemed happy. This is just not something she would do. But, we can’t get anyone to take us seriously, Will. We’re about to go out of our minds.”
“So she’s been missing less than a day?” Will snapped his notebook closed.
“Please don’t give me that look.” Frank clenched his jaw. “That’s the same look we got from the police.”
Will cleared his throat. “Well, the thing is...”
“The thing is,” Frank said firmly, “Sue wouldn’t do this. The thing is that her car was abandoned! We can’t wait for days to pass. I know my daughter, and I’m telling you something’s wrong.”
“Okay, Mr. Cox. I understand.” Will reopened his notebook. Even if the girl called home later that night, it was obvious these parents needed some assurance. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank God,” Frank said, and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
“Has she ever done this sort of thing before? Ran away from home? Went off with friends without letting you know?” Will asked, making notes as they talked.
“Never,” Linda said, pulling a tissue from the box on the end table. She patted the corners of her eyes before continuing. “She’s a good girl. She’s never given us a moment of trouble.”
“I need to take a look at that note,” Will said.
Frank went to a small roll-top desk in the corner and brought back a piece of pink paper. His hand trembled slightly as he passed it to Frank.
Laying his notebook on the end table, Will unfolded the note and smoothed it out across his lap. It was a rambling letter all about wanting her freedom, breaking away from societal expectations, and hitting the open road. She told her parents she loved them, but just needed some time to experience life. She asked them not to look for her. Said she would be incommunicado for a while. Asked them not to worry. Signed it Susie with a little heart dotting the “i” in her name.
“Even that letter is out of character for her,” Linda said, hands nervously pulling at the hem of her sweater. “She never talked that way.”
“What way is that?”
“You know. She’s never needed to experience life, or to break away from societal expectations. Those aren’t Susan’s words. Someone put those ideas in her head.”
Will nodded and held up the note. “Can I keep this for the time being?”
He received nods and reminded them to verbalize the permission, which they did. He folded the note and placed it into his coat pocket. “Have you called her friends, co-workers, classmates?”
“She only has one close friend,” Frank said as he retrieved some papers from a desk in the corner. “Joyce Mould. She hasn’t seen Susan for over a week. But, she said Susan called her last night. Joyce said Susan told her she was going to run off with some new employee she’d met at work. But, Joyce said by the time they’d hung up, Susan had changed her mind and wasn’t going to leave. I just don’t understand it. Any of it. Susan never gave a hint anything was going on.” He handed Will the papers which contained Joyce’s name, address, and phone number. Also listed were Sue’s employer and her class schedule.
Linda interjected, “We also asked about new boys working at the nursing home; the one where Susan works. We were assured they had no new employees; and no young men. We can’t figure out why Susan would tell a story like this to her friend.”
Will made a note of this. “She have a regular boyfriend?”
“Not that we’re aware of,” Linda answered. “A few crushes back in high school, but nothing ever came of them. You know how teenagers are.”
Will gave her a dubious glance. “She didn’t just walk away from her car, Mrs. Cox. Somebody gave her a ride.”
“There’s no one,” Linda insisted. “Unless she hitchhiked.” Her voice wavered. The thought obviously disturbed her.
“I doubt it,” Will said. “I drove out to that cemetery before I came over; it’s fairly isolated. Not much traffic out there. But I’ll check with the farmers in the area, see if any of them saw anything. I’m not ruling anything out at this point.”
Frank looked thoughtful. “Thanks, Will. But, I agree with you. I don’t think Susan would get into a car with a stranger. She’s a serious, intelligent girl. She doesn’t do dangerous things.”
I think she has now. Will kept the thought to himself. There would be time for that later. “What about money? Anything different there?” He glanced up from his notes.
“I don’t know,” Linda said. “She has a good sized savings account, her college fund.”
“Okay, we need to check with the bank on that, first thing tomorrow. Unless you have internet banking.” Will looked expectant but was told no, no internet. “Are your names on the account?”
“Yes, as alternates. But, Susan’s the primary account holder,” Linda said, finally dislodging herself from the sofa and going to the desk. She handed Will a passbook with entries dating back years. “She had a card to make withdrawals and deposits.”
“I’d advise you to close that account,” Will suggested.
“We can’t do that,” Linda cried. “What if she needs money to come home? We can’t leave my baby out there stranded. Alone.”
“Okay, how’s this. Leave five hundred dollars in the account and move the rest to a new one. Would that work for you?”
Frank spoke up before Linda could protest. “That’ll work fine. We’ll do it first thing tomorrow. I’ll tell them to let me know immediately if any transactions take place on the original account.”
“Perfect,” Will said. “You wouldn’t have a recent picture of Susan, would you?”
Linda moved to a frame on the mantle, removed the photograph, and handed it to him.
Will studied the image. Sue was a moderately attractive girl with long brown hair and a round face similar to her mother’s. Soft brown eyes and a slight close-mouthed smile reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, but without the intrigue. Just an ordinary girl.
“May I keep this?” At their agreement, Will slipped the photo alongside the note. “What about activities? What does she do outside of work and school?”
“Nothing, really,” her mother answered. “She was taking summer classes, kept up with her homework, always showed up for her job. That sort of thing. She reads a lot.”
“What did she do in her free time?” Will found it hard to believe a young person could be that reclusive.
“Well, we don’t really know.” Frank rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. “I’m on the evening shift out at the plant two weeks every month and Linda works a split shift at the club. We’re gone a lot at night, but Susan was always here when we got home.”
“She ever sneak out that you know of?” Will inquired.
“Oh, no!” Linda’s hand went toward her throat. “She wouldn’t do that.”
Will gave them a noncommittal nod. He asked for the last few months’ worth of cell phone bills, which Frank handed over to him without comment. Will glanced through the bills and frowned. Then he folded the pages and stuck them into his coat pocket along with the note and photo. “We need to track that cell phone.”
“You can do that?” Frank was amazed.
“No, I can’t.” Will considered Frank for a moment. “But I’ve got some connections. I’ll see what I can do.”
Frank’s eyes lit up. “If you can trace her phone, it’ll tell us exactly where she is. Right?”
Will shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up on that,” he said gently. “It could lead nowhere. She may not have the phone with her. It could be disabled. It might not be turned on. Any number of things.”
“Still...” Frank and Linda exchanged looks, the naked hope on their faces heartbreaking to see.
“Does she have a computer?”
“No, we’ve been meaning to get one,” Frank said. “She just uses the one at school now, or goes to the library. But we’ve been talking about buying one.”
Will thought that odd, no computer in this day and age; he hardly knew anyone without one. But, he could see
this was a family who had not kept up with modern trends. Their clothes and furnishings were evidence of that. Maybe Sue left to escape the eighties time warp. “I’d like to see her room and her car, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” Frank said.
Linda stayed downstairs while Frank led the investigator up to Sue’s room. He waited in the doorway while Will looked around. A canopy bed suited for a pre-teen dominated the room, made up in ruffles, and covered with frilly pillows. White nightstands, a matching white vanity, and rose-colored curtains gave the space a distinctly feminine touch. Will looked at the cluttered bulletin board on the wall and studied each item tacked to its surface. A movie ticket, a blank calendar, a high school class photo, a magazine clipping of a teenage heartthrob, a picture of a kitten with a ball of yarn, a school photo of a rather plain smiling girl in glasses, which turned out to be Sue’s friend, Joyce Mould. He lifted each item and examined the backsides. He found nothing of substance there.
Will moved to the white desk in the corner upon which sat a jewelry box, a phone, a cup full of pencils and pens, and some magazines. In the small drawer, he found a supply of paper, more pens, some paperclips, scissors, various odds and ends, and a miniature stapler. He dug a little deeper and pulled out some small pieces of paper, receipts from various shops. There were a few from stores in the mall, and five receipts from the same used bookstore, Re-books, and all relatively recent. These he pocketed. He opened the closet door and called Frank into the room.
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