by E. J. Larson
CONTENT
Frontmatter
Newsletter
Cast
1. Prologue
2. Quinn
3. Tyler
4. Jasper
5. Quinn
6. Milo
7. Olivia
8. Jasper
9. Quinn
10. Jasper
11. Milo
12. Tyler
13. Jasper
14. Quinn
15. Tyler
16. Jasper
17. Tyler
18. Quinn
19. Milo
20. Olivia
21. Tyler
22. Quinn
Backmatter
Book Description:
Does anyone really care if you disappear?
Journalist Delia Gupta had a good life. She had true friends, a job that fulfilled her, and enough money to live carefree-until one day she doesn't show up for a date with her best friend....
Weeks later, Detective Tyler Ducharme comes to town looking for friends, connection, and a life. But all he finds is an assignment that makes him unpopular with his new colleagues, and powerful enemies from his past coming after him.
With an unencumbered eye, he is tasked with investigating whether the police did their job properly in the case of the missing young woman, and finally solving her mysterious disappearance. Soon he finds himself in the middle of a case whose secrets will occupy him for a long time to come, as he also privately penetrates deeper into Delia's environment than he initially suspects.
About the author:
E.J. Larson traveled in North America, Europe, Asia and Africa before settling down with her two dogs in a house that not even the mailman visits every day.
She prefers to read in the bathtub after a rainy day and harbors an unhealthy fondness for cookies, candles, and hot chocolate.
VANISHED
City of Lies #1
By E.J. Larson
1st edition, 2021
© E.J. Larson - all rights reserved.
All rights, including that of reprinting in whole or in part in any form, are subject to the consent of the copyright holder.
Persons and actions in this story are fictitious. Similarities to living or deceased persons are purely coincidental and not intended.
NEWSLETTER
OH, WAIT A SECOND. YOU MIGHT WANT TO READ THE FREE PREQUEL FIRST…
GRAB IT HERE:
DON’T WORRY. EVERYTHING IN THIS BOOK CAN BE UNDERSTOOD WITHOUT THE PREQUEL. I JUST THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANT THE FULL EXPERIENCE.
Cast
Main characters:
Quinn McNally: jewelry designer, 24
Tyler Ducharme: cop, 28
Jasper Blight: commercial artist, 32
Milo Linney: editor, Fairfield Chronicle, 25
Olivia Bishop: editor, Fairfield Chronicle, 25
Other characters who appear in this episode:
Theodor Brooks & Jade Shore: owner of Brooks & Shore jewelry company, Quinn's employer
Teagan: goldsmith at Brooks & Shore
Tiffany: model
Amber: restorer, Olivia's roommate
Carter: game developer and owner of Daedalus Entertainment, Jasper's friend
Jonah: student, Quinn's roommate
Simon: paramedic, Tyler's roommate
Novalee: PR consultant, Jasper's colleague
Cops:
Will Evans
Mason Winder
Lynn Fremantle
Aaron Parker
1. Prologue
ON THE OTHER side of the night-black molleton, it buzzed like a beehive. Although the heavy theater curtain had a sound-dampening effect, she could feel the commotion in the audience all the way to the stage door. For days now, a heat wave had been plaguing Fairfield's residents. Even in the town's modern theater, the oppressive air could only be cooled down a few degrees. The air conditioning was running at full blast. Still, the ladies, decked out in fine evening gowns, struggled to keep their clothes clinging to their sweaty skin. With every movement, they risked tearing the delicate fabric. Still, the hall was full of guests. They had all come to attend the National Broadcasting Society's annual awards ceremony that evening and cheer the winners. The invited guests wore floor-length gowns and high-necked suits, as befitted the occasion.
Teagan Osbourne's tummy was in turmoil. It wasn't just from the two margaritas she'd drunk on an empty stomach, but mostly because she'd done it alone. She had been on a date with her best friend, Delia, at her favorite restaurant. Together, they had wanted to toast this evening before, when she would be able to present her with a significant award. For years Delia had been working towards this and finally it was time. Never before had a fashion journalist been allowed to accept this award from the NBS. But Delia hadn't shown up at the bar, nor had she signed out.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the smoky voice of CFB One's prominent host rang out from the speakers. Instantly the murmur of six hundred guests fell silent. With his introductory words, he whetted the appetite for the rest of the evening and provided the first laughs until the band had taken their place on stage.
Teagan's fingers felt clammy - almost as if they belonged to a stranger. Surely Delia was already waiting at her place in the audience and had just forgotten her date in all the excitement, she tried to calm herself. If any human on the planet could afford such a lapse, it was her.
"Are you ready, Miss Osbourne?" One of the assistant directors, her understated black attire almost blurring with the background, looked at her. She and her colleagues were not supposed to stand out, but to work the magic like helpful elves in the background. That made a nationally televised awards ceremony look like child's play.
Teagan looked down the midnight blue dress with the light-reflecting silk threads at her flawless stilettos peeking out from underneath. She would look like the starry sky on stage on that wonderful July night. Everything about her performance was planned to the last detail, but this unfamiliar nervousness blocked her. It lay over her like a thunderstorm and might burst upon her at any moment with thunder and lightning.
"Of course," she confirmed forcefully. Giving up had never been an option in her family. Routinely, she straightened her shoulders and put on her best media smile as she waited for the signal.
"Let's move on to the presentation of the Green Key, the award for the best young journalist of the year. Please join me in welcoming the wonderful Teagan Osbourne."
She counted to three and gave the applause room to swell. Then she stepped onto the stage and beamed at the audience. With feather-light steps she ascended the small platform. Once at the top, she waited a moment for reverent silence to settle over the room again.
"Dear Guests, Today, in my father's stead, I have the great honor of presenting one of the most coveted awards of the evening. First, however, please allow me to introduce the nominees and their work. "The journalists' presentation ran in the background while Teagan's eyes wandered unobtrusively through the audience. They all focused entirely on the images behind her so she could keep an eye out for her friend. All the honorees were supposed to be seated near the aisles so they had short distances to the stage. But no one in any of the seats even resembled her friend. She recited the brief introductions of each of the reports that had ended up on the shortlist that night. None of the other entries had even remotely caught her interest, but of course she didn't let that show in her moderation. She commented on the series of entries about the fate of the city's homeless with the same feigned enthusiasm as she did on the report about the flower farm of the year. When all the contributions had received their thirty seconds of fame, she once again straightened up to her full height and started to
announce.
"This year's Green Key for Best Young Journalist goes to Delia Gupta for her insight into the hidden world behind designer fashion. Congratulations, dearest Delia. You earned it," Teagan finished her speech and continued to beam as the spotlights moved through the auditorium. It was a breathtaking story that Teagan had been up close and personal in the making. She knew what it had cost her friend to get the coverage published and how much she had earned this award. In a moment, the illuminators would find Delia and the lights would gather at her seat. Her best friend would be beaming her warm smile at the cameras, waving and coming up to her. Then, finally, that uneasiness in her stomach would disappear, too.
The light cones circled and circled. The cameras remained pointed at the stage. Neither she nor the cameramen were prepared for this one. The fine hairs on the back of Teagan's neck stood up and an icy draft brushed against her. Panic welled up inside her and was hard to keep under control.
Delia missed her own awards ceremony. She didn't show up the next day either. Neither in the editorial department of her magazine nor in her circle of friends did anyone know where she was. Finally, her family had her apartment door opened. But there was no trace of the missing woman.
It was as if on her most important day, the ground had swallowed Delia Gupta. Not a crack remained in the place. Even weeks after that day, there was no information on the young woman's whereabouts. All of Fairfield searched for her, but no one could find a viable clue.
Because no one knew what had happened to her, concern spread especially among the young women in the metropolis. Delia had often enjoyed going out. Could this have been her undoing? No one could refute this theory, which was why unfounded rumors made the rounds. There were claims that a curfew had to be imposed to protect the young women. But in the end, everything remained as it was. Nightlife was unimpressed by their disappearance, and the media's calls for clarification eventually died down.
Only the fact that no body was found gave family and friends reason for hope. There was resentment among them that the police seemed to have no idea what had happened to Delia. Was it murder? Was it a kidnapping? Had she run away? Or was there an accident behind her disappearance?
It wasn't until a letter to the Fairfield Chronicle finally got the investigation moving again. The anonymous author threatened that he would not rest until all the truths that might be connected with Delia's disappearance had come to light. For those who were not yet afraid, this announcement caused them to break out in a sweat. After all, one's secrets were better left untouched. After all, there was a reason why they were kept secret. But none of the townspeople were left untouched by the fate of Delia. Some even had more to do with it than anyone else realized...
2. Quinn
REALLY AMAZING THAT my entire life fits into this suitcase, she mused at the sight of the brown leather suitcase. Its pervasive smell filled the entire nursery. A room she had long since outgrown. Still, the small room and the noisy house were her home.
That Saturday morning, Quinn moved away from home and took the first step into her own life. She left everything she knew behind to face new challenges. Her mum and older brother Logan stayed behind. So did her best friend Kate, who she knew inside and out. The home she was familiar with seemed manageable in its dimensions. Sometimes she felt her life on the edge of the world was boring. Yet the beautiful images of her own youth were directly connected to everything here.
The big city she was setting out for scared her. She was entering a new environment where she knew neither the ways nor the rules of the game. Her whole world would change, whether she wanted the change in detail or not. She had decided to take this step.
Her only glimmer of hope in a foreign land was the shared apartment she moved into. There was someone, somewhere, who was bound to deal with her. Someone who would hopefully pick her up when she collapsed under the weight of the change. On the phone, her future roommate had sounded very nice.
The job at Brooks & Shore was the reason she left home behind. Nowhere else would she have had such a phenomenal opportunity to perfect her craft as with them.
She was all too aware of the risk. Never in her life had she felt fear of failure, but slowly she realized that failure was well within the realm of possibility. So she left her home with a thousand butterflies in her stomach, accompanied by tiny granite balls. It drew her down, though she wanted to fly. And she flew despite the weight of tons pulling her to the ground.
Sighing, she sank onto the wooden floorboards and stroked the neatly folded clothes in the suitcase. It was time to go. Otherwise she'd never make the jump. Sure, she could stay another year, but it would only make it harder to leave. Another year with Logan, Kate, Mum and her comfortable daily grind, learning nothing, nothing new at all.
Years wasted. Years of stagnation.
She'd endured that long enough now. She needed to break out of her beloved cocoon so she could spread her beautiful wings. This job was like the crack in the chrysalis. It was her door. She just had to step out and face the world.
Once again she went through everything so she wouldn't forget anything important. She had packed all the clothes she liked to wear, her bathroom items, all the shoes she used regularly and some personal items. Still, there was so much room in the suitcase that it made her all nervous. Her tools and the works she cared about were in the second, more modern aluminum suitcase that sat next to the door to her room.
"Are you ready?" The tremor in her mum's usually melodically soft voice told Quinn she was unsure too. With her hands on her ample hips, she peeked into the room. She couldn't manage to hide the sadness she felt about her only daughter leaving home. Quinn didn't want to make it any harder for her. Energetically, she zipped up the suitcase, stood up, and straightened her shoulders. "Kate's waiting for you, love!"
"I can't wait," she heard herself say. Strangely, her feeling followed the spoken word. Her mum gave Quinn an encouraging smile and took the leather suitcase from her. As they made their way down the hall, the fluttering insects slowly dispelled the heaviness.
"Do you have your papers? I put them all together for you on your desk."
Involuntarily, Quinn ducked her head. Of course she didn't have the papers. She ran back to her room once more and grabbed the stack. As she did, her eyes fell on the mirror hanging over the desk. Her eyes looked like those of a frightened deer, which the large glasses only accentuated. The short, chocolate brown hair lay tousled and refused to be tamed even by repeated pulling into shape. A typical bad hair day. On normal days, her hair lay well-behaved where it belonged, framing her oval face. Today, the sight of herself reminded her of someone who had been jolted out of bed by a fire alarm and was still looking for the exit.
Then don't, Quinn thought, and defiantly pulled the lipstick from the pocket of her jacket. With a touch of ruby gloss on her lips, she immediately felt much more comfortable.
"Now it's a look!" Kate's voice sounded from the hallway and Quinn caught her reflection smirking.
"Style is consistency," she repeated what the girlfriends had said to each other many times before. They both loved to look good, but neither of them wanted to have to spend a fortune on it. So they had decided to always make the best of what they had. "Isn't Logan here?"
"Yes, he is, standing in the kitchen fiddling with his phone," Kate returned with a shrug.
"He doesn't know what he's missing," Quinn countered, shaking his head. "Have you guys set anything up yet?"
"Oh, we're bound to see each other. You know yourself how small this place is. We probably run into each other all the time in the most impossible places."
"But this isn't a date. You should be dating," Quinn insisted. "Otherwise, it'll never work out between you."
She opened the large compartment of the backpack and stowed the papers inside without overly creasing them. Together they crossed the short hallway and entered the spacious kitchen of the old bungalow. Her mum clung to Logan's arm and tried unsuccessf
ully to dab her tears with the back of her hand.
"Oh Ma, now stop it. Nobody died," Logan grumbled, trying to break free of his mother's grasp.
"Thanks, baby brother, I'll miss you too." Grinning, she blew a kiss on her brother's cheek, two years older than her. "But he's right, Mum. I'll be back after all."
Sighing, she let go of Logan and pulled her daughter into her arms instead. The suppressed sobbing died away.
"You'll do great, I know you will." She pushed Quinn at arm's length from her and looked her firmly in the eye. "Make your father proud."
"I'll do my best," Quinn replied against a thick lump in her throat that distorted her voice. Her mother's kind, round face was graced by a sad smile. Even after many years, her husband's death was a difficult subject for her and their now grown children. It was a circumstance none of them could get used to. A telltale glint in her eye, made Quinn fear that this farewell would be more maudlin than anticipated.
"Kids, you have to go or Quinn will miss the flight!" her mother decided, to Quinn's surprise. A glance at the clock revealed that they were by no means late. Still, she was grateful to be spared any more tears. It was hard enough as it was not to buckle and call it all off after all.
"Okay, take care." Kate grabbed the leather suitcase and marched out the door with it. Quinn watched her go. It only took her a second to decide whether or not to give Logan a shove. Kate wouldn't be mad at her forever for that-at least not if it worked. Maybe it was a neat anecdote she could give at their wedding one day, if they did eventually find each other because of her meddling.
"Look after Kate for me, will you?" It wasn't quite the blow with the fence post but with any luck a request that got him thinking. The puzzled look on his face at least promised he'd heard her and was trying to place the words somewhere in his brain. He wasn't stupid, but he was plenty obtuse when it came to Kate. "If you need an instruction manual, call me."
