Missing Persons Case

It was four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon when she stopped by my office.  I was finishing up some paperwork from a previous case when I heard a gentle knock on my door.

 

“Door’s open!” I called out from behind my desk.  I didn’t raise my head, but I continued typing. 

 

“Um, hello?” came a timid voice.  She stood in the door frame, about five foot six, shaggy auburn hair, blue eyes that were hidden behind glasses with purple frames.  Burdened with an armful of books and tightly clutching a pen with her right hand, the woman hesitated before taking a step into my office. 

 

“Grab a seat,” I said casually, “I’ll be with you momentarily.”   I finished typing, swiveled my mouse around my desk, clicked twice, and snapped the lid shut on my laptop.  I sat up and surveyed the person across from me.

 

I nodded my head, and asked, “Shall I put on my mask?”  I began to reach for the top drawer on my right.

 

“It’s fine,” the woman replied, “I won’t take up much of your time.  May I keep mine on?”

 

I nodded, and she took a seat in the wooden chair in front of me.  The stack of books remained clutched to her torso, so I offered a space on my desk for my visitor to unload her burden.  She thanked me, set down the books, but held onto the pen, trying not to fidget as she did so.

 

“I heard you can find people,” she said at last.  Her voice was low, almost like a whisper, but not muffled.  Despite the thick mask over her face, her words were quite clear.

 

“Yes, I can.  Within reason,” I shrugged.  “Have you gone to the-“

 

“I uh-“ she shook her head, “I don’t wish to consult the police.  I hope you understand, but they’re not exactly a force I can trust with this.”

 

“I see…”  was all I said.  I opened my laptop once more and opened a blank template on Microsoft Word.  “Let’s start at the beginning,” I said.  “Who are you looking for?”

 

“It’s an aunt of mine.  Her name is Florence.  She lives across town, with her dog, Spots.  We see each other once or twice a month.  I host her for lunch or dinner, and Spots chases the squirrels away from my bird feeder, although I don’t really mind, Spots is harmless.” 

 

I transcribe as the woman narrates.   

 

“You live here in the burbs?” I ask casually.

 

“I uh-“ she begins, looks over her shoulder, then back to me.  “I live two towns over in Collins. Florence lives near Loveland, but it’s farm country in her area. I know it’s supposed to be lovely there, but lately, Florence has been complaining about how some corporation wanting to buy her farm to convert the area into condos.”

 

I nod, tapping away at my laptop.  Developers have been actively driving up real-estate prices for months now, causing small towns like Loveland to be completely unaffordable.  Hounding homeowners to sell for lucrative amounts of cash was not new.  The trend began in California and had finally made its way to Podunk-ville, where I eeked out a living as a private detective.  It wasn’t uncommon for these companies to team up with the local and state governments to bully homeowners into selling, or threatening them with the phrase, “Eminent domain,” on a property. 

 

“So you think some developers are after your aunt?”  I said blithely, clacking the words ‘eminent domain’ into my notes.

 

“Yes, I do,” she said with a sniffle.  “Aunt Florence never came over last weekend, and while she occasionally goes on a cruise, she would never leave Spots.”  The woman sniffed again.

 

I looked up.  The woman’s glasses were foggy, and I could see tears flowing to the edge of her mask.  I sighed, and stood up.  I reached over to the filing cabinet behind me, and moved a box of tissues, which sat on top.  I crossed the room to offer the poor woman one.  She nodded in thanks, and took the whole box, setting the box carefully on her lap.  The woman never removed her mask, which was visibly damp, but she dabbed at her eyes, and removed her glasses to dry her tears. 

 

I returned to my desk. 

 

“I take it something happened to the dog?” I asked when the woman seemed able to speak again. 

 

“Spots arrived on our agreed upon date.  Looking terrible, as if she had run away from home.  I’m not particularly attached to this dog, but seeing her without Florence, well,” the woman sniffed again, “I felt deep down that something was amiss.

 

“Spots spent the night with me.  She wasn’t at all interested in chasing the squirrels out back, which is unlike her at all.   I called Florence the next morning, but there was no answer, and her voicemail box was full.   I was worried about Spots, since she wasn’t her normal peppy puppy self.  I decided I’d take her to the vet, but she was gone by the time I went to move the poor girl to the car.”

 

I raised an eyebrow and paused my transcription.  This story was getting stranger by the moment. 

 

“Did you call the SPCA? Animal Control?  Anyone?”

 

The woman burst into tears.  “

 

“You don’t understand at all!” she wailed.  

 

I stood up, crossed the room, and closed the door to my office immediately.  Something I should have done minutes before. 

 

“Suddenly, I get the feeling that this isn’t a dog you’re talking about, is it?” I said, my voice above a whisper.

 

“You’re a woman, I figured you’d understand!” the woman wailed loudly.

 

I shook my head.  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken about my gender.  I’m nonbinary, for starters.”

 

“But you have a –“

 

“I’m afraid not?  Not that it’s anyone’s business but my own, but I had a hysterectomy about a decade ago,” I said with a shrug.  “OH!  Wait, are you speaking figuratively?  About the dog and the aunt?”

 

The woman looked up sadly.  After a long pause, she nodded slightly.

 

“I see…” I said slowly.  “Have you consulted a doctor?”

 

“I tried?  Offices are booked until July.  I have an appointment for one then.”

 

“And have you taken a test?”

 

“Several!” the woman cried.  “I’ve taken several pregnancy tests.  I’m not though.  I’m just… old I guess.”

 

I sighed.  Once again, I thought about how the system failed to teach anything.  I took another moment to study the woman across from me.  She was plump, but not old in the face.  Still, I’d gauge her as being old enough, maybe 37? 40?

 

“You spoke to me of your aunt Florence and her dog, Spots.  Now, I shall ask you if you are acquainted with someone named Perrie.  Perrie has an older sibling named Mehna.”

 

“Who?” she asked.

 

“Perrie and Mehna.  They are two makeover specialists that have a shop on the next block.  ‘Pause for Effect,” is the name.  I think that perhaps they can answer the questions you have.”

 

“Wait, you really think I’m that old?” the woman looked shocked.  “I was carded two days ago when I went to buy wine at a bar!”

 

“Ma’am, I have no idea what age you are, but if you seek answers to the question of your missing Aunt Flo and her dog Spots traveling alone, Perrie and Mehna most certainly will help you.  They will stymie that sense of dread and panic you’re oozing, and help you seek the answers your health ed teacher forgot to tell you about that are on the exam.  More, they can help you in ways I cannot. 

 

“Simply put, your Aunt Florence has retired for an extended vacation in Costa Rica.  That’s my guess.  So Spots is in your care for a while, and eventually, Flo will come for Spots too.  There’s really nothing to worry about unless you wish to keep the developers from seizing your aunt’s property in Loveland.  In that case, talk to your doctor when you see them in July.   In the mean time, thank whatever powers that be that you don’t have unexpected guests for dinner for a while, and break out the party hats.  It’s all downhill from here, so enjoy the ride.”

 

“What? That’s it?” the woman gasped.

 

“Well, Flo might come back, and she might bring souvenirs.  Cross that bridge when you get to it.  Or if you prefer, host a funeral, and give a eulogy for your departed uterus.  Matters not to me.  Still, I recommend visiting Perrie and Mehna up the street.  They give the best advice on self-care and love for the next stage of your life.”

 

I snapped my laptop shut. 

 

“I can’t help you, but they can.  Now,” I scooped up the books on my desk, handing them to the woman who was now standing.  I gave the books to her.

 

“Best be on your way before ‘Pause for Effect’ closes for the day.  You don’t want to be out when night falls here.  It’s not the best part of town.  You can keep the tissues.”   

 

I escorted the woman out of the office, locking the door behind me.   I made my way to the nearest pub down the street.  There was a Manhattan with my name on it, and it was now five o’clock.