We drove in near silence. I thought I could almost feel Oak’s shock. Clearly this was not the sort of call she was used to getting. I felt it would be tactless to let her know that where I had recently been stationed, it wouldn’t have been missing chickens that would have been called in routinely each morning, but missing humans.
When we pulled up, Ashley rushed out to meet us as though she thought we might have forgotten where the office was. “DI Meryl is waiting for you both,” she said, her lip trembling slightly.
I placed a hand on her shoulder to give her some semblance of comfort and then headed inside, to where Meryl was standing, taking a phone call. He gestured us into his office when he saw us and we trooped in. I took a seat across from his desk while Oak stood, staring out the window. Despite her light hazing of me for the past few weeks, I reached over and squeezed her arm. “Let’s just hear what’s going on before we despair, ok?”
She looked at me and nodded. Meryl entered the office a moment later. He was a heavily bearded and mustached man in his early fifties, a little more robust than he had probably been a decade ago but still in good health and fitness. He wasn’t a country bumpkin either. Maybe he was from Melspol originally, but he had done a decade of field work in Cannon City, the second largest city in the country during the years of the crank epidemic. That alone would have been enough to earn my respect. This guy had seen some things.
“Thanks for hustling back you two. I just got off the phone with the Sherrif. It’s been at least 12 hours since anyone’s seen the girl and the local PD has done all the usual checkups already. School, friends, family, hospital, you name it.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But let’s back up. The missing child is named Luna Lampour, she’s ten years old, mixed race, dark hair, dark skin, her father is black, mother is white. Normal height and weight for the age range. Her parents called her in as missing early this morning and cops have been on the case for nearly ten hours since. No sign of her. Apparently, she never caught the bus home from school yesterday. Parents thought she had gone to a friend’s, said it was common for her to have dinner at her classmate’s house and they thought she was there. Didn’t think anything was off until around 8 when she was normally dropped back off and she never appeared. Then they started making phone calls. Went around searching until just after midnight, that’s when they called the night line. Local cops didn’t catch their call until about 2 in the morning.”
“Shit,” Oak muttered, shaking her head.
“Who was that last person to see her?” I asked, automatically flipping to my mental rolodex of questions for missing person’s cases.
“Not sure yet. Sounded like it was probably one of her teachers, or some of her friends. Definitely someone at school. Cops are checking on that.”
“No chance someone just wasn’t paying attention. School field trip or she was sleeping over with her friend or something?”
“Doesn’t sound like it. They’ve pretty thoroughly ruled out any obvious mistakes. Checked with near everyone in town that knows the girl. Nothing.” He rolled his shoulders, glancing down at his phone. “I’d like you two to head over to the Sherrif’s office and get full testimony and reports from the officers. We’ll start there.”
I nodded and stood. Oak nodded jerkily and we headed back out into the main office. “I just need my notepad,” I said, rummaging around in my desk by the window. When I had retrieved it, we headed out to the car.
“Want me to drive?” I asked.
“Naw, I got it.” Oak said. She appeared to be somewhere in between shock and acceptance.
We drove through the countryside for about fifteen minutes. I had come to realize I had no idea where the Sheriff’s office was even located until I saw a sign for the town of Wiggins. Yet another one of these little rural towns that seemed to pop out of nowhere. This one looked a bit larger than Cresel, more in the woods as well. We headed into the Sheriff’s office to be greeted by two men who had been pouring over various documents laid out on a desk. I could tell at a glance they were all related to Luna’s case.
“Oak,” one of the guys said, extending his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
He was a large dark man who appeared to be strained and was sweating profusely. The second man, an older weedy fellow had bags under his eyes and looked sleep deprived.
“This is DI Senel, he’s new on our team,” Oak introduced me and we all shook hands.
“I’m Sheriff Jim Morton, this is my Deputy Roberto Salas. Y’all want to take a seat?”
We took the only two chairs available in the small station and Morton began to debrief us. It was pretty much the same information with more details. I took notes and interrupted at various moments to clarify some of the information. When the whole thing up to that moment had been explained, I glanced down at my notepad to see where I had left gaps.
“Sheriff, who was the last person to interact with Luna before she went missing?” I inquired.
“One of my boys just figured out it was the school nurse, Nurse Ellen. It was the end of class, Luna’s grade had gym last thing before they went home. Her gym teacher had talked to Luna because the girl’s asthma had been acting up a little in class and she wanted to be sure Luna’s inhaler was close by in case anything happened. She sent her to the nurse’s office after class.”
I jotted down more notes. “So Luna suffered from asthma? And the nurse checked her and her inhaler?”
“Yeah,” Salas said. “Sound like she just went in for a checkup, nothing was wrong. But it was at the end of the school day. We think maybe because of the checkup, she missed the bus home. So she ends up walking home instead. Well, walking somewhere.”
I nodded. “Ok. This would have been around 3 to 4 PM, correct? And Luna’s parents were still at work?”
“Yeah. Father works for Wiggins Auto and mom works at one of the local diners. They both got off around 5 and came home. Seems they assumed Luna was at her friend Ronnie’s house, she often went after school with her.”
“And this Ronnie, did they live in the same neighborhood?”
“Not quite. Ronnie was up in Hill Crest, Luna lived downtown in a townhouse. Kinda of on opposite sides of town. Maybe a thirty minute walk between them or a ten minute drive.”
“Ok. And Ronnie and her family never saw Luna turn up?”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Nope. Ronnie said she thought Luna was coming to play with her that afternoon but when she didn’t show up, she figured Luna had gone home.”
“Seems like no one communicated with this girl at all,” Oak commented from where she was seated next to me, staring at a picture of Luna at her school photoshoot.
Though I agreed, I wasn’t ready to start in on any assessment of the situation yet. I needed all the details.
“So the parents figured she was at Ronnie’s, Ronnie figured she had gone home. And the parents started calling around 8 when Luna didn’t turn up back home?”
“Yeah. That’s when it came out, she hadn’t been at either place all day. Parents started to freak and began calling all her other friends and stuff, as well as family members. They drove out to Luna’s grandma’s house on the outskirts of town even, thinking maybe she could have ended up there. By the time they had done their best to eliminate places where she could be, it was midnight and they started calling our night line. Finally they got through about 2 in the morning. That’s when this whole thing began.”
I finished scribbling and closed my notebook. “Thanks Sheriff. I might have more questions down the line. Could we get a copy of all your notes and documents?”
“Sure thing,” Salas said, gathering up the stack of papers and pictures strewn over the desk and headed into a separate room to make copies.
“Darndest thing,” Morton said, running a handkerchief over his sweaty face. “I’ve been Sheriff here in Melspol for 14 years. Never had anything like this. Closest thing was when the Foster’s got divorced and the dad took their son up to his hunting cabin for the weekend without telling the mom. And I thought that was a headache. But this girl just up and vanished into thin air.”
I nodded though I didn’t reply. I was well aware from my time in the capital that little girls didn’t just vanish into thin air. Salas handed us the copies and we stood. “We’ll take over the investigation now Sheriff, if that’s ok with you?”
“Sure thing,” Morton said, looking slightly relieved. “My team is here as full backup, you just call in whatever you need son. Oak.”
“Thanks Sheriff.”
We trooped out and back to the car. I glanced at Oak. Apart from a few haggard comments she had been largely silent. A loud rolling grumble filled the car. I raised by eyebrows at her while she flushed. It was well past 2 pm and neither of us had eaten much breakfast.
“Let’s grab a bite and then start following the trail,” I said, indicating a diner just down the road.
She nodded and we pulled in and got a table. We ordered and waited for the food to arrive. Oak called Meryl and updated him while I poured over the file, absorbing every detail I could. When our burgers arrived, we devoured them in less than ten minutes and were back in the car by 2:30. We headed towards the school. It was a small K-8 establishment, red brick, big playground, baseball fields, just your average primary school. We talked to the principal for a few minutes, then the school nurse. But they had nothing interesting to say, other than their praise for Luna, that she was a good girl, smart, social and always polite. School was just getting out by then and we stood back a bit by the car, watching as the busses loaded and departed to return the kids home.
“Should we find Ronnie and talk to her?” Oak asked uncertainly. “And her other friends?”
“No. We’ll catch them at their homes. It’ll be better that way, less of a scene.”
We continued waiting, Oak clearly growing antsy. “Shouldn’t we go talk to the parents or something?”
I just shook my head wordless, continuing to observe the exodus from the school. Finally the last bus was gone. I glanced at my phone. It was 3:30. So it took about 30 minutes for the busses to load and depart. Pretty fast, but then again it was a small school.
“Ok,” I said, adding this to my notes. “Let’s take a walk Oak, we need to get some exercise.”
Oak shrugged and locked up the car. I punched a few details into phone maps, and we began to stroll through the town of Wiggins, following the path that the search had indicated to me. But I didn’t follow it exactly. This was a ten year old girl walking home after missing the bus. She would have taken the most familiar route, not necessarily the most direct one. It followed along some neighborhoods, through a few alleys and finally onto what looked like a main thoroughfare of some sort coming into downtown. I glanced up at the street sign. Fourth street. From here, it looked like a straight shot a few more blocks down to Elm and Crescent, where Luna’s house was located. I entered a different address into maps. Now the path diverted from our position, heading north, winding back through more neighborhoods into a less populated portion of town.
“Come on,” I said to Oak, who was looking quizzical as we headed through more backways. Here it was harder to tell what route Luna might have taken. There were pleasant neighborhood streets to walk on, alleys, dry ditches, and little paths in between them all over the place.
“Let’s split up a bit,” I suggested. “You take the street side heading north.”
“Am I supposed to be looking for anything?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Anything that seems relevant or unusual. I’m going to wind through these alleys. Let’s meet at each street juncture.”
And so we proceeded like that. I thought perhaps from the perspective of a ten year old girl, the alleyway would have been more appealing. There were views into people’s yards and gardens this way, patches of flowers and berry brambles every so often. We were approaching the less populated area now. The streets turned into a single road as we headed more into the countryside and became surrounded by patches of trees, farms and larger houses.
“This looks like the upper class neighborhood,” Oak commented as we naturally reconverged on the single road, the alley having just run out. “This is where Ronnie lives?”
“Yeah,” I affirmed, gazing around at the roadsides. There was sort of a faint footpath paralleling the road on the lefthand side. We ambled along it for a good half a mile, scanning the ground. Oak glanced at her phone as it buzzed. “Just got a text from Meryl. Sounds like we should add Luna’s uncle to the list of people to question. He was apparently out of town last night and hasn’t been back since it all happened. No one’s talked to him yet.”
“Ok,” I said and then I halted abruptly. Branching off from the footpath was another little trail, even fainter but still there. I stopped, examining the maps.
“Looks like Ronnie’s house is about another quarter mile up this road where it turns back around this patch of woods,” I noted. I squinted at the footpath. If it held to its current course, it might just lead a much straighter route to Ronnie’s house.
“Let’s walk this for a while.”
Oak nodded. “You’ve got pretty good instincts for a city boy,” she commented. “I would have walked right by that track.”
“It’s harder to see trails in the city,” I answered vaguely, gazing around.
“How long were you stationed in the capital?” Oak asked curiously but at that moment I held up a hand. Something bright was glinting in a patch of sunlight by a large flat rock. I glanced back. From our current position, you could no longer see the road, as the area was dense with trees. I headed towards it, taking care not to disturb anything that looked like it could be a trace in the leaf duff.
“Oh shit,” Oak said, sliding up on her phone to access her camera when we came even with the bright object. It was a dandelion chain, probably a crown fit for a kid by the size. Incredibly woven and ornate, it lay by the side of the rock in a rather undignified position, as though dropped accidentally and never picked up.
While Oak shot a few pictures, I examined the area around the rock. A few stray dandelions lay scattered there, as if the necklace had still been under development when the maker had left it behind. One lay behind the rock. I cast around to see another one a few more feet away.
“Trail of dandelions,” I muttered, indicating the wayward flowers to Oak.
She continued to snap away on her camera while I followed a few more flowers, which were starting to dwindle into shreds. I held up a hand suddenly. We had reached a sort of clearing in the trees. Here in the leaf duff there was a clear sign of some disturbance. Leaves had been turned up everywhere, bare earth could be seen below. A rotting branch had been dislodged and it looked as though something had been dragged for a few feet to our left. But outside of the clearing, I couldn’t see any obvious signs. Then I squinted and realized that there was a piece of fabric against the log that had been moved. It was red and white checker patterned.
“What do we have for forensics in Melspol?” I asked Oak as she began shooting more pictures.
“Couple of guys from Burkus have a lab and help us run samples when we need it,” Oak said, angling her camera.
“Give them a call. Looks like we just found where Luna was taken.”
Oak lowered her camera. “Taken?”
I nodded gravely, looking back at the disturbed site.