Unsolved Disappearances

There have been many missing people reported over the last few weeks. Twelve, to be exact. The last one was 3 days ago. A 21 year old man named Garnet Wells. Black hair, grey eyes, peachy skin. Height: 5 feet, 9¾ inches. Weight: unknown. He was last seen at the bar on 3rd street.

Why do I know all of this?

Because I’ve offered to help Detective Marralin with the case. I’ve had some experience with solving mysteries. My father was a police officer. He was also the investigator for his search team. And my mother was on a crime show for a little while. When I was a teenager, I helped research and solve some of the theories. I’ve watched almost every mystery show there is and read almost every book in the mystery genre.

Of course, I’m no expert, but I know quite a bit and would love to help. I mean, it's not like he's getting very far on his own. Last I heard, he and the crew working on the case had hit a dead end. I personally believe I can be the one to gain a new lead.

And maybe my knowledge isn't the only reason I think that.

I may or may not have taken confidential information about Garnet Wells. I’ll admit it wasn't the right thing to do, but that's just the risk of being someone like me. Someone who is adventurous and very passionate about their studies.

Plus, I can cover my tracks pretty well, so I doubt they'd find out anyway.

I sent the detective a text yesterday and I am currently waiting for a response. I couldn't sleep last night and am still in bed as the sun is rising.

As if by coincidence, like it knew what I was thinking about, my phone dings. I jerk to a sitting position and grab my phone. Yes! Finally!

Detective Marralin - Sure. We'd love help. We've been hitting a lot of dead ends lately and could use any help we can get. But I have to make sure you're not trying to trick us. The police think everyone is a suspect nowadays. Meet me at my office today. I assume you know where it is since you reached this number.

Me - You assumed right! I'll be there later.

“More like in an hour,” I mumble. I get up and make my way through my house, doing anything that needs to be done for me to be ready. It's the same routine every morning. Get changed, brush teeth, coffee, hair, makeup, and finally, shove my notes into my bag and head out.

Hopefully he's as respectful as I've heard. He has quite the reputation in this town, but that isn't saying much since it's a pretty small place.

As I pull into the parking lot, I take a deep breath, preparing to meet the detective of Purson. He's solved around 80 cases so far. And that's impressive compared to other mystery solvers.

I make my way to his office and knock on the door. When I hear a, “Come in,” I push the door open and step into the room.

“Are you Lula Reid?” he asks as soon as the door shuts behind me. He is busy writing a paper on his desk.

“Yes, I am,” I answer. Without asking, I take a seat in the chair across from him, setting my bag on the floor beside it. I clasp my hands together in my lap and look at him.

He sets his pen down and looks back at me. “May I see your I.D.?” He holds out a hand, supposedly expecting me to say yes.

I dig through my bag and hand him my identification. While he is checking it, I notice that he looks quite handsome. Black hair that's messy. The kind of green eyes that look like they change color in the light.

“This seems legitimate,” he says, handing it back and looking at me again. “So, do you have any information that could prove useful? The police and I believe a serial killer is behind the missing people. They've been gone so long, they're deemed dead. Murdered.”

“Well, if that's true, serial killers typically have a pattern. I've connected the dots between the locations,” I respond. I pull out a map and set it in front of him. On the map are marked locations of the missing people's last seen places. The bar, the library, the cafe down the street, bakery, grocery store Dollar General, movie theater, doctors office, 5th Street, park, Lily's Floral Shop, Community Garden. That's all 12. “If my theory is correct, the next should be at the school.”

He studies the map, an impressed look crossing his face. “Wow. I believe you might be right. I'll alert the station and have them keep an eye on the students.” He scribbles something on a note and then stands up. “C'mon. You've already managed to amaze me within the first 5 minutes of meeting. You might as well meet the team.” He walks around the desk and opens the door for me.

I smile brightly and shoot up from my seat. “Really? Yay!” I pump my fist into the air and exit the room.

He pauses at my motion, but then chuckles softly, following me outside to the parking lot. “We can come back for your car later. You'll ride in mine for now,” he states. I nod and hop into the passenger seat once he shows me which car is his and unlocks it.

It's a really silent ride. Neither of us seem to know what to say. Luckily, it's short.

We arrive at the station and enter the building. I'm honestly surprised I've already gained his trust after just meeting him 15 minutes ago. I guess they are pretty desperate.

He goes around introducing me to a few officers. I don't pay much attention since I already know most of them from the news and my father.

He explains my theory to them and informs them to watch the school. A couple take action and start making their way out.

“Wait! I don't think you'll need to watch any blondes or gingers. The victims have all had darker hair like black or brown,” I inform them. I now realize they're kind of stupid because they immediately agree with me. Not that I'm untrustworthy. They just seem too gullible.

“That was…good logic,” Detective Marralin says quietly. He sounds impressed again. “You wouldn't make a bad detective. You seem to be observant and have a keen eye.”

“Why thank you, Detective Marralin.” I nod and smile again. It's an honor to hear he thinks that of me. Finally, I'm being recognized for my knowledge.

“Please, call me Joseph,” he replies confidently. He bows his head in a courteous manner. Smiling, he holds the door open for me to exit. “I think the only thing we can do now is hope that the officers on site will be able to keep the students safe. If your theory is correct.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I respond. He lets the door swing shut behind us and we make our way to his car.

“Sorry that this was all kind of rushed. It's just, there's so much to do, you know?” He tilts his and we get back in the car. “Not only do I have this case, but I have multiple personal matters to attend to also.”

“It's okay. I understand.” I do, really. I also have a lot to do on a regular basis. I know the feeling of having a lot on your plate.

This time, while we ride, he turns on the radio and a jazz song starts playing quietly. It breaks the tension a little bit.

“Thank you for…letting me help. And bringing me along with you,” I say softly, turning my head to look out the window. I rest my head on my hand.

“No problem. You were a bit of help and that's good considering the dead weight we have,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. I can't see him but I'm pretty sure he glances at me.

I laugh at the joke about his colleagues. At least he has good humor.

We arrive back at his office and get out of the car. He follows me to mine and holds out a hand for me to shake.

“Stop by my office tomorrow. I'll keep you up to date on the case,” he says, opening my own car door for me. “Goodbye, Lula.”

“Bye, Dete-,” I start but then pause, remembering. I get into my car. “Joseph.”

Waving, I pull out of the parking lot. I'm glad this went so well. I'm finally succeeding in the next step of conquering my dreams.

~~~

The next day, I'm back at his office. There's a paper in his hand and he looks stressed.

“Ruby Williams. Age 17. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin. Height: 5 feet, 4½ inches. Weight: unknown. Last seen leaving the school at 3pm,” Joseph reads from the report. “This is bad. This is so, so bad. We let another slip through our fingers.” He paces back and forth in front of his desk, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

I watch him for a few moments before stepping forward and blocking his path. “Hey, calm down. One: It wasn't your fault. Two: There's nothing you could have done. And three: Blaming yourself and having a panic attack won't help anyone solve the case,” I say calmly, looking straight into his eyes. I point to his seat, silently telling him to sit down.

Surprisingly, he listens. He sits back, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“You're right. You're right. Let's just…go over all the information we've collected so far and see if there's anything that could give us a hint of who the suspect could be. Or at least what they could look like.” He opens a folder and spaces a few papers out on his desk.

I grab the other chair and bring it around, sitting beside him to look at the information too.

We sit there for about half an hour, looking through everything. Checking and double checking. No progress.

“I'm sure something will come by eventually.” I sigh and cross my arms, leaning back in my seat.

“I suppose we'll have to see,” he responds.

The next couple of days pass in a blur. Then, that blur becomes two weeks later. The killer had been striking every couple of days and they seem to have stopped. Since the team has just been hitting dead end after dead end, the case is officially dropped and the whole thing is in the past now, hopefully never to be brought up again.

Now, for Joseph and I, we become close friends over that period of time. We start hanging out a lot and I help with creating theories for his cases.

“Well, it seems what's done is done. We've paid respects to all of the people who have lost family members. People will still be on the lookout, but they've taken the search team off post. The only thing we can do now is pray that those people are safe and move on to further cases,” Joseph says in defeat. He sighs and looks into my eyes. “I can't help but feel guilty for not helping all those poor people.”

I place a hand on his shoulder and try to console him. “It's not your fault. You tried your best,” I say sadly. “If you can't help them, the most you can do is help others.”

“Thanks, Lula. You always know what to say,” he replies. He smiles and pulls me into a tight hug.

I love being this close to someone after all these years. It makes me feel comforted. But I also feel really guilty now.

Because little did he know, I was the culprit he was looking for all along.

And I plan on taking that secret with me to my grave.