by D. Fischer
Groaning, I roll over and grab my phone off the floor. “-Llo?” I manage to croak out.
“Makenna Goldwin? Private investigator?” a woman asks.
“Yes, this is she.” I sit up, forcing my voice to be clearer.
“My name is Johanna Clark. I would like to hire you.”
I gingerly stretch and let my body slither off the couch. Entering the kitchen, I switch on the coffee machine. I’m definitely going to need my beloved dark caffeine if I plan to be functional today.
“Sure, sure. What can I help you with, Ms. Clark?” I reach into the cupboard and grab a mug.
“Oh, please, call me Johanna, dear.” I internally buck at the endearment. I’m not so fond of pet names, kind-hearted or not.
“My granddaughter is missing. She went out with a few friends last night and never came home. The police tell me it’s too soon to raise any alarm, as my Cassie is an adult and could just be staying at a friend’s house. They aren’t ready to start investigating yet. I checked with some of her friends. They haven’t seen her since last night,” Johanna pauses for a moment. “I know my Cassie, Ms. Goldwin. She has a rambunctious streak, but she’s never been irresponsible. She would have called if she planned to not come home. I’m all she has left. She wouldn’t leave me worried like this on purpose.” Johanna sniffles into the phone.
“Don’t you worry Ms. – er – Johanna. I’ll do my best to find your granddaughter. It might be best if you and I could meet so I can get more details.”
“Of course, dear. Would the city park in an hour be okay?”
I check the time on the oven. That should be enough time to shower and drive the twenty minutes over there. “That should work fine. I’ll be waiting for you on the bench just before the trail. It’s the bench that overlooks the water.”
“Yes, I know the one. My late husband and I would go there often back in our day. I’ll see you there, dear.”
She hangs up before I can correct her and supply my first name.
I put my phone down, grab my fresh cup of coffee, and sit down at my laptop, firing it up. I search the police station’s website for missing people in our area, and, sure enough, no one named Cassie is on it. Not a big surprise.
There are, however, a few very recent reports of missing people. The most recent listings are all women. I wonder if these women are a part of the clipped photographs that Evo presented to Chris last night.
Police have protocols to follow. Cassie’s disappearance hasn’t met those requirements, so they wouldn’t have it on their website yet. They can’t report it and begin a search until then, I understand that. Some people who are reported missing by loved ones aren’t actually missing and will show up within a day or so.
I find her social media account easily enough. Fresh pictures are loaded from last night’s bar adventure. I study each photo, trying to commit faces to memory as I sip from my mug.
Next, I do a web search of Johanna Clark. It’s always best to know who you’re working for. Other than her name mentioned on her deceased husband’s online obituary, there’s not much else to go on besides a current address.
Storing her phone number in my phone directory, I add her address with it.
I down the rest of my coffee and I head for the shower.
A half hour later, I sit on a bench overlooking the water. It’s a beautiful but humid afternoon and the bugs are persistent as they buzz around my ears. No matter how many times I swat at them, they still come back.
No one else is around, which isn’t surprising given it is a week day and most people are still at work.
Not five minutes after taking a seat, I hear footsteps approach behind me. I glance back and stand once I realize it’s an elderly lady making her way in my direction. She has to be in her early seventies, give or take. She’s in good shape and doesn’t need any assistance walking, though I detect a hint of a shuffle. Wrinkles line her skin and short salon-styled white curls frame her head.
“Johanna Clark?” I hold out my hand once she’s a few feet in front of me.
She gives me a warm smile and shakes my hand. Taking a seat on the bench, she gestures for me to do the same. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Goldwin.”
I take the chance to correct her, hoping to stave off any more future endearments. “Please, call me Kenna.” I return her warm smile.
“Wonderful. Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful young lady, dear.” I mentally sag as my efforts prove fruitless.
She pulls out a picture from her pocket. “This is my Cassie, taken last year.” She holds the picture out for me to take. The young woman staring back at me is just an average girl. Mousy brown hair with plain features. I recognize her from her social media page.
“She’s very pretty, Johanna. You must be proud. What can you tell me about Cassie?”
Johanna lets out a sigh and turns her head to look at the water before us. “I’ve been Cassie’s guardian since my daughter passed away. Cassie was only ten years old. Cancer, you know.” She looks at me pointedly, like I should have guessed it myself. “Cassie has always been such a well-behaved girl. Her father has never met her, and frankly, I don’t even know who he is.”
“I see,” I say, urging her to continue as she seems to be lost in her memories.
“Cassie just finished college this year. Her friends decided to throw a get together at one of the bars last night to celebrate before everyone went off to work in the real world. Of course, Cassie attended. She is always such a loyal person and wouldn’t miss saying goodbye to the friends she made before everyone went their separate ways.”
“Do you happen to know which bar they went to?”
“Yes. Sorry, dear, of course. The bar was called The Library.” She chuckles. “It seems to be a popular bar among college students. I gather it’s more popular for the name than anything else.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of it. Do you have any names or contact numbers of the friends that were there with her?”
Johanna digs in her pocket again and produces a folded note. “I wrote down the ones I know personally. I couldn’t tell you each and every one of her friends’ names or their cellular numbers, but I figured this would get you somewhere.” She hands the list over. “This just isn’t like my Cassie. She has always been responsible and never has been in any trouble. I know my Cassie, Kenna. She would have never left me worrying about her. She would have called by now. I fear something terrible has happened to her.” Her grief slithers over my skin. She truly believed that Cassie was in terrible danger.
I’m beginning to think last night and today’s events aren’t by accident. How could I think otherwise? Women are disappearing; I just so happened to aid in the interview of psycho boy last night and then Johanna calls me this morning—it’s too coincidental.
If Johanna is right and Cassie is a responsible girl, then something could have happened to her. I’d bet my last dollar Chris Kenner is involved here.
I briefly think about finding some way to contact Evo, but then quickly dismiss that idea. Johanna contacted me, not them. If the police aren’t going to contact or involve Evo’s team, then neither will I. The last thing I need is to have that guy involved in my investigation. I find him too much of a distraction. Nope, it wouldn’t do to have him involved.
My alter ego thinks otherwise. She’s intrigued by my returning thoughts of Evo and urges me to seek him out. I quickly shove my thoughts, and hers, aside before it becomes all consuming. There’s a very good chance I’ll never see him again. She needs to come to terms with that.
I pat Johanna’s shoulder. Sympathy has never been my strong suit, even if it’s well deserved. “I’ll do my best to find out for you, Johanna. Try to stay positive.”
Chapter Three
Makenna Goldwin
That evening I wait in a family diner just before closing time. I had researched her friends, asked around, and got a job location of the first friend on the l
ist.
Jackie is Cassie’s long-time best friend. She’s a waitress for this twenty-four-hour diner. Searching on social media, I found a profile picture of Jackie and headed over to the diner during her shift. I need to ask questions, but I want to wait until the crowd dies down so she’ll have time to answer them without neglecting her tables.
And wouldn’t you know it, my waitress happens to be Jackie. Fate has a funny way of working out sometimes. It won’t be as hard as I thought it might be to pull her away for a few minutes.
Sipping my coffee, I take in the activity around me. The tables are starting to become bare. The restaurant hasn’t been updated in years and the staff are able to wear their regular clothing. It’s tacky and shows that whoever owns the diner has a lack of interest in professionalism. I frown as my own hypocrisy dawns on me. Didn’t I just toss my heels in the trash and threaten to wear bunny slippers to work?
To the people eating their meals, I probably look like a loner sitting here drinking my coffee while I watch those around me. I witness a mom kiss her tired son’s boo-boo, a husband and wife quietly having an intimate conversation, and the staff members gossiping. Each person I feel a sense of longing for. Not for them, of course, but for what they have: a family, a loved one, friends. Those are things I lack in my life, current and past. They are everything I secretly long for. I’ve never had the privilege of these things and the thought makes my heart ache.
I can feel all their emotions, too. It used to be too much for me and would often overwhelm my thoughts and sense of peace. But after a while, I learned to separate their emotions from making changes in my own.
My phone beeps, breaking me out of my survey of those around me. I pull it out of my pocket and swipe the screen to find I have a message from an unsaved number.
You look like you could use some company.
A little miffed, I glance around me at the tables. When I notice that no one was paying me any attention, my eyes drift toward the door.
Leaning against the wall is Evo. I draw in a breath. That guy would look sexy even if he was sporting a bunny costume. How did he find me and how long has he been watching me?
Giving me a sexy lopsided grin, he walks over to my table and takes the seat opposite of mine.
“I don’t remember inviting you,” I grit through my teeth. “I’m working. You need to leave.” Even though every part of my being wants him to stay. God, I’m pathetic.
He continues to smile at me. “What kind of gentlemen would I be if I left a lady to dine on her own?”
I glare at him. “I’m not exactly dining. How did you find me?”
He leans back in his seat, completely unaffected by my hostile attitude. “All the right friends in all the right places.”
Cocky bastard.
“Right. Well, why don’t you call up one of those friends and go bug them instead.” I give him a tiny wave letting him know he’s been dismissed.
I need to lose this guy if I plan to get any answers from Jackie. People are always reluctant to talk to strangers and the fewer strangers that are asking the questions, the more open they’ll be to discuss their nightlife. Even if one of the strangers is sexy as hell.
Just one look at him and you know a night in bed with this stranger will promise you things you’ve never experienced. Things you never thought you needed or wanted. I try hard not to shiver but I’m unsuccessful in my efforts.
“Is there anything I can get you, sir?” I tear my gaze from my erotically distracting, albeit unwanted, companion as Jackie closes the distance to our table.
Keeping his eyes on me, he replies, “I’ll also have a coffee.”
I watch her leave, my shoulders sagging. I had planned to talk to her when she came back for a refill.
He catches onto my frustration easily. “Does our waitress hold some sort of fascination to you?”
“I told you—I’m working. I need to talk to her and you being here is messing that up.”
He leans forward, putting his elbows on the table after Jackie places his hot mug in front of him. “Is it that I’ll mess up your interview or is it that you find me … distracting?”
I roll my eyes, fully intending to not answer his question.
He chuckles, seeing right through me. “So, what’s the job?”
“Sorry, but I don’t reveal my investigations to FBI. If my clients wanted to involve the FBI, they’d call you. It’d be unprofessional of me to bring in a government agency to assist in my investigation.” Not to mention I‘m a territorial bitch who never understood the concept of sharing.
He leans back again. “I’m surprised you haven’t researched me. I’m not with the FBI—not anymore. I haven’t been for a while, actually.”
Was I blind last night? “Excuse me?”
“I’m a retired agent. I only give a hand when they call and ask.”
“So you just get dressed up random nights and play cops and robbers? You must enjoy living a fantasy life. Good to know.” I can’t help but verbally poke him. If you retire from something, that generally means you no longer work there.
“Yep.” He pops his lips, totally unfazed. “So, that means I’m free to help you out.”
“Um, no,” I quickly quip.
I’m taken back by his suggestion. An active agent isn’t someone I want to partner with, but a retired one will be hard to refuse. Especially if he’s able to get more information than I can.
I sigh loudly, the breath ruffling a stray hair. It wouldn’t be smart of me to refuse his help, pain in the ass or not. “A girl went missing last night.” He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m here to question Jackie, who’s her best friend, about what she witnessed or if she witnessed anything at all.” I slide Cassie’s picture to him. “Her name is Cassie Clark. She was last seen last night with her friends at a bar called The Library.”
Recognizing the name, he nods his head while examining the picture. “Do you think Chris Kenner has anything to do with it?”
I squint my eyes at him with suspicion. I don’t need him running back to his FBI buddies to tell them there’s possibly another missing woman. I promised Johanna I would keep this private unless she wanted to expand her search by using law enforcement resources.
He holds up his hands. “No need to get so touchy. I don’t plan to involve the FBI unless you find it necessary. I understand that you’d be protective of your clients.”
Satisfied at his truth, I give a curt nod. “I have my suspicions that this could be Chris Kenner related, but I have yet to interview any of her friends.”
I am almost one hundred percent positive it was Chris, but I’m not going to tell him that. Not only do I know nothing about Evo, but I don’t fully trust him yet. Just because he’s telling the truth about not running off to his buddies and spilling the beans, doesn’t mean he won’t decide to do it later. People go back on their word all the time. I would know. I had it happen to me plenty of times as a kid.
Jackie comes over to refill my coffee and glances down at the picture on the table. She sucks in a sharp breath. “You know Cassie Clark?” she asks Evo who still has the picture in front of him.
He shifts his eyes to me, a silent gesture that she’s directing her questions to the wrong person.
I clear my throat to gain her attention. “Yes, that’s actually why I’m—we’re—here. Johanna Clark, Cassie’s grandmother, asked me to look into Cassie’s whereabouts. I came here to ask you a few questions.”
Jackie glances around the diner. She pulls over a chair from a nearby table and runs a hand through her hair. “Yes, Cassie and I know each other, known each other since we were little kids. She’s my best friend. I don’t understand where she could be, though. It’s not like her to just disappear. She hasn’t been answering any of my calls.”
This is easier than I thought it’d be. Jackie seems to be opening right up. I can feel her genuine worry for her missing friend. She has no idea
what happened to Cassie. This means I can cross her off as a possible suspect. It’s unbelievable how many times friends verbally fight and the next day one of them has a literal knife sticking out of their back. Maybe not that exact scenario, but close enough.
“When did you last see her?”
“Last night, we were all at The Library,” she pauses, “that’s a local college bar. We all went there as a going away party or whatever. Just before I was going to leave, I turned around to ask Cassie if she needed a ride and she wasn’t there. I thought she just went home and I didn’t hear her tell me goodbye. That place can get pretty loud. But when Johanna called me this morning, I started to freak out.”
Evo pipes up and leans toward Jackie. “Did you see her talking to anyone you didn’t know?”
Jackie’s eyes tilt up as she searches her memories. “She talked to a lot of people last night. Cassie is nowhere near ready to settle down and find a guy, but that doesn’t hold her back from flirting with them.” At my raised eyebrows, she corrects herself. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s not … slutty or anything. She hardly ever sleeps with a guy. But like every single girl, she enjoys the chase and attention.”
“Er—right. Okay, so did any one of these guys stand out? Did she ever go outside with one of them? Did she ever show a particular interest in any?” I ask.
She thinks again. “There was this one guy that pulled her on the dance floor. He was, like, extremely hot. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but he spent a good amount of time whispering in her ear as they danced. After that, he bought her a drink and then left. I remember her saying how confusing that was because they seemed to hit it off and then he just went home.”
Evo nods. “What did this guy look like?”
Jackie taps her chin. “Tall, dark, and handsome. I remember he had the lightest blue eyes. Even though he was hot, he sort of gave me the creeps. Cassie didn’t care, though. She can be attracted to the occasional bad boy.”
That sounds like Kenner to me. Evo and I spare each other a glance. “This is all very helpful, Jackie. My name is Kenna. If you remember any more details or if Cassie returns your call,” I pull out my card from my back pocket, “please don’t hesitate to call me. Anything you think of could be helpful.”
