Mystery: Missing Rita: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery)

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Mystery: Missing Rita: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) Page 6

by James Kipling


  “Good night my prince,” Ted echoed.

  “Good night.”

  ****

  Tracy got to work on time that day and reported to the front desk. She punched in her card after saying a polite hello to the reception and walked over to her locker. She changed into her usual janitor uniform and a smile lit up her face as she thought of the kind of fun she was about to have. She loved her day job and would always look forward to it. After perfectly fitting into her uniform, Tracy got the trolley from its rightful place and started pushing it out of the locker room. No one ever paid any attention to her when she was at work and that was how she liked it.

  She rolled it to the elevator and pressed the button for underground. She then hoped no one would join her in the elevator as she waited for its doors to close. It was a short ride down to the morgue. She got out at the bottom and was greeted by the familiar silence which she had come to like and revel in. There was no-one at work yet since she had chosen to report very early that day. She placed her trolley in the usual corner and began unloading it. Her attention was however distracted as the door opened and she looked up from the trolley.

  “Tracy Evans?” someone called from behind her and she took a while to turn her attention to him.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning.”

  “I am Detective Sam and I have a few questions for you this morning.”

  “About what?”

  “Is there anywhere we can have a seat and talk?”

  “I am o.k. standing,” Tracy answered defensively and crossed her arms across her chest.

  “Are you always this friendly?”

  “Not a morning person,” Tracy replied.“I would really appreciate it if you get to the point. I have work to do, sir.”

  “I have questions about your sister, Rita Sutter.”

  Sam noticed the twitch in her left arm as soon as she mentioned her name. She looked at him closer and he hoped he would get the answers he was looking for from her.

  “Seems to have gotten your attention.”

  “What about Rita? What has she done now?”

  “She is actually dead,” Sam answered. “Murdered, actually.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound shocked and not in the way I expected.”

  “It finally happened.”

  “What do you mean ‘finally happened’?” Sam asked, more curious than ever.

  “Sir, Rita was not a pleasant person. It only looks like someone eventually threatened her and meant it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sam said and paused for a minute. “Are you trying to tell me that she was getting threats?”

  “Yes.”

  “From who?”

  “Child, please – you asking me that question is like asking me to photocopy the yellow pages.”

  “Well, you had better get right to it then.”

  “Are you serious sir?” Tracy said. “What part of ‘I am working’ don’t you get?”|

  “Tracy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Your sister was murdered.”

  “Did the sun stop shining?”

  Sam ran his hand through his hair and gave Tracy a long, hard stare. He had not expected his morning to be so foul but at the same time he remembered Lohan’s words:“Expect anything when on a murder case.”

  “What time do you get off work?”

  “In about two hours.”

  “I will wait for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I feel there is a lot of information you can tell me that will help me on this case.”

  “Will you buy me breakfast?”

  “Will that get you talking?”

  “I will sing like a canary,” Tracy answered.

  “I will be in the parking lot waiting on you,” Sam said and gave her a card with his cell phone number on it.

  “O.k.,” Tracy answered and went on unloading her trolley. She took out her mops and brooms and multiple bottles of detergents and got right to work.

  Sam walked out of the morgue and headed for his car. His whole mind was on the case at hand before a cell phone came through for him.

  “Did you find her?” Lohan’s voice roared on the phone.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And?”

  “I am on my way up, will fill you in when I arrive.”

  Sam hung up the phone and walked on to the parking lot where Lohan was seated in the passenger’s seat of his car with his sunglasses on.

  “So did you talk to her?”

  “I did,” Sam answered.

  “How did it go?”

  “Well,” Sam hesitated with his answer, “I am waiting on her to finish her morning shift.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I was.”

  Lohan opened the door from his side of the car and stood out in the cold morning air. He had his hands placed firmly on his waist as his beer belly stood out. Sam got out of the car too and from the look on his partner’s face, he knew he was in trouble.

  “Sam.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Need I remind you that you are a police officer?”

  “No you need not”

  “Do you know the kind of authority that a police officer has?” he asked and scratched his bald head. “You rookies make me mad sometimes.”

  “I will go fetch her,” Sam asked and began walking towards the morgue again. He knew what he would be told next and was not really in the mood. The distance to the underground morgue was faster with the new motivation he got from Lohan. He found Tracy busy cleaning the place and the look on her face when she saw him was not inviting at all.

  “I told you two hours.”

  “I heard that.”

  “So what the hell are you doing back here after exactly half an hour?”

  “Ummmm,” Sam took a while to respond before scratching his chin. “Would you mind hurrying up?”

  “Excuse you?”

  “It’s just that my boss is really on my case and…”

  “Would you mind grabbing a mop?” Tracy interrupted.

  A smile lit up her face for the first time that day when he saw Sam roll up his sleeves and move closer to where her trolley was. He pulled out a mop from the trolley and a disinfectant bottle and mimicked what Tracy was doing.

  “Are you sure you’re a cop?”

  “Damn sure,” he answered. “Certificate and training and all that crap.”

  “Why aren’t you using your authority to make me talk to you?” Tracy asked. “You could be scaring me with fancy legal lines that make me shiver.”

  “I would do that,” he said. “But I think you would open up to me more if I helped you work.”

  “I think you have lost your damn mind.”

  “That is debatable,” Sam answered and started working beside her.

  “Can I ask you a strange question?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “Why on earth would you want to work in a morgue?”

  “There is no noise among the dead,” Tracy answered. “Have you ever seen a dead body”

  “I see them all the time. I am a cop, remember?”

  “I will need you to keep reminding me that as we carry out this conversation,” Tracy pointed out in reference to him grabbing the mop. “You missed a spot, by the way.”

  “Where?”

  “I am just messing with you,” Tracy giggled. “You are actually good at this.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said and blushed from the compliment before returning his attention to the topic at hand. “You were asking if I had ever seen a dead body.”

  “Right,” Tracy went on as she made neat stroke with her mop across the floor. “Ever noticed how peaceful they look? I envy that.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do,” she answered. “Imagine how it would be like to never wake up to deal with your problems.”

  “That does sound peaceful
.”

  “That is why I chose to work here,” she went on. “For two hours or more in my day, I get to relish in the idea of peace. To be among the dead and quiet and imagine how it would be like to be dead and at peace.”

  “How was your relationship with Rita?”

  “Rita was always the smarter one of us two,” Tracy went on to answer. “We were raised in not-so-favorable circumstances.”

  “How so?”

  “You really sound like a shrink there, detective.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “No, it’s a simple observation,” Tracy answered.

  “It’s part of the job, I guess.”

  “You really are a sweet guy. I would date you if you were not gay.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Aaah, still in the closet I see,” Tracy said with a weird smile. “Like I said, just an observation.”

  “Please do not take this the wrong way but I could use you.”

  “How?”

  “You have a keen eye.”

  “I am not cheap.”

  “I do not expect you to be.”

  They went on cleaning the place in silence, Tracy wondering what he was going to ask next and Sam wondering how he would frame his next question.

  “When was the last time you saw Rita?”

  “On her wedding day,” Tracy answered. “Her kids do not even know I exist.”

  “Did you try reaching out and forging a relationship with her or the kids?”

  “Detective, you will soon realize one thing about me as you go on with this interrogation.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I do not attach myself to people or things. I do not have that bone in my body.”

  “In that case, you will not feel a damn thing if I tell you Rita’s body was stolen.”

  “Stolen?”

  “Yes ma’am, right in this morgue.”

  “What the hell are you trying to say, Detective?”

  “After Rita was discovered murdered in her apartment, her body was brought here but disappeared the very next day.”

  Sam looked at her reaction and couldn’t tell what she was really thinking. He however noticed how she clenched her grip on the mop she was still holding and wanted her to say something.

  “That is sad. I have always wished the worst for her but this never crossed my mind.”

  “Didn’t you hear about it?”

  “Why would I hear about it?”

  “You work here.”

  “I do but I hardly know anyone here other than the sweet fiancé lady who gives me my paycheck at the end of the month.”

  Sam looked around at the morgue and admired the good job he had done on the floor.

  “I have to go, ma’am.”

  “What about my breakfast?” she called after him.

  “I will take care of that at our next meeting.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Tomorrow after work,” he shouted back. “Same place.”

  He walked out of the building and into the mid-morning sun. He could spot Lohan leaning on the car’s hood waiting on him. He had a cool somber look in place of the angry one that was there only minutes before.

  “Please tell me you have good news. You sure have taken a while in there,” Lohan said in the same hoarse tone as before. Sam wondered how he would react to what he had just learned and stood right in front of him.

  “Tracy Evans is a very interesting woman.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Lohan asked curiously.

  “It is a good thing because we are going to get a lot more than we thought from her.”

  “Does that mean we have not gotten shit? Does that mean we are still fishing in the dark?”

  “I wouldn’t really call it that.”

  “You are amusing, Sam.”

  “I know you think I am approaching this in an amateur way.”

  “Yes, I do think that.”

  “But I have a plan.”

  Lohan stood his ground and regarded Sam for a few minutes before running his hand through his very scarce hair and taking a deep breath.

  “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I am not even going to ask you what your plan is,” Lohan replied. “I will be part of the audience and watch it play out.”

  Sam was a bit taken back by his partners’ response but nevertheless thought it was better than his usual bickering and scrutiny.

  “O.k.”

  “So does that mean you have a follow up appointment with her?” Lohan asked.

  “Yes I do, tomorrow same time as now.”

  “O.k., I will not say a thing but I will be here and stand next to you as I wait for your plan to go up in flames.”

  “It will not go up in flames, Lohan! Come on, have faith in me.”

  “I barely have faith in myself, dear boy,” he answered and got into the passenger’s seat. Sam automatically took the driver’s seat and started the car.

  “Let's go get some lunch,” Lohan said as Sam drove out of the parking lot.

  “It is barely midday.”

  “My watch says it’s 11:45,” he said. “We should beat the midday rush if we go to my favorite burger joint right around the corner.”

  “O.k.” Sam was not in the mood to argue. He drove towards the suggested destination with a lot on his mind. He had taken a liking to Tracy, he loved her ‘I don’t care’ attitude, her raw, unattended appearance and her strong, almost manly features. As much as Lohan doubted him, he knew he was on to something with her and she could help a great deal in the case, particularly from knowing about Rita’s childhood. He had come to a conclusion from what he knew so far and couldn't wait to know more about the case. Both women were unpleasant and wicked in their own way. He couldn’t understand why but he strongly suspected it had something to do with their upbringing. He threw a side glance at Lohan who was equally immersed in his own thoughts and decided to tell him his conclusion later on. He concentrated on the road ahead but knew they were in for the ride of their lives.

  *****

  Ryan sat in his living room with a bag of chips in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other. It was only 10:00 in the morning and he was feeling tipsy. He flipped through the channels for the millionth time that day before settling on a cooking show. His cell phone vibrated right next to him and he reluctantly had to place his glass of scotch aside. He picked up the phone and loved the sweet voice that echoed from the other side.

  “Morning, Ryan.”

  “Morning, Yvonne.”

  “How are you holding up today?”

  “I am thinking of taking a bath today.”

  “That is progress,” she said and Ryan could tell she was holding back on what she really wanted to say.

  “Have you eaten anything today?”

  “Not yet but I was thinking about it.”

  “That is again progress,” she said. “I am going to leave work early today and I was wondering if I could come over and cook for you.”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?” Yvonne asked curiously.

  “On what you want to cook.”

  “Why your favorite of course – pork roast just how you like it.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Ryan answered.

  “Alright, I will see you then.”

  “See you then,” Ryan asked and hung up the phone. He took back his glass of scotch and took a sip from it before looking at the television screen. He could not shake off the thought of Yvonne making him the pork roast but was distracted by the doorbell.

  He was not in the mood to entertain any company especially any police officers who he suspected were at his door. He decided to ignore it but got to his feet when the knock grew more persistent. The walk to his front door seemed to be miles and he silently cursed whoever was behind it. He did not bother to check the peephole and swung open the door with a very unpleasant look on his face.

&nbs
p; “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Ryan did not know what exactly to be shocked at the question or the person on the other side of the door.

  “And good morning to you too, Tracy.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about her death?”

  “I assumed you would know.”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  Ryan hesitated for a moment after being asked the question and stepped aside. He watched as she strolled into his house and noticed the different changes that were apparent on her.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Since my wedding day.”

  “Oh yes,” Tracy nodded slightly. “You mean since I warned you about marrying my sister, the Wicked Witch of the West.”

  “Yes, since then.”

  They both stared at each other for a minute longer before Tracy broke the awkward silence.

  “I heard about the body disappearing from the morgue,” she started. “That must be hard on you.”

  “It is.”

  “How are the kids holding up?”

  “You mean your nephew and niece who you never bothered to identify with? They are devastated.”

  “What will happen if the police will not be able to find the body?” Tracy asked and decided to totally ignore what Ryan had just pointed out.

  “We will arrange a memorial service for her and move on with life.”

  “What if the body turns up after the memorial service? What will you do then?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Ryan answered and walked over to the living room sofa where his glass of scotch was. He took a seat and gave Tracy a glare and waited for her to say her next words.

  “The police have been asking questions.”

  “Have you been answering them?”

  “Mostly,” Tracy said and looked around the room. “Can I have some of that, too?”

  “Sure.”

  He got up from his seat and walked over to the kitchen. He was back shortly holding a glass of scotch which he handed to Tracy.

  “Thank you.”

  She took the glass of scotch from him and sat on the same living room sofa that Ryan was justusing.

  “So how long have you been like this?”

 

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