Jolly Jane: First Hunt

own.

1

HE HEARD THE SONG, Smooth Operator, followed by the vibrating nuisance falling deeper into his pocket. David hopelessly dug through his money clip, past his keys and managed a thumb and finger grip on the edge of the phone. His polyester suit pants were a little tight. He pulled hard, resulting in the money clip falling from his pocket and rattling on the floor.

Dammit.

He read the text as he blindly reached for his escaped Benjamins;

Hey, running late. Babysitter there. Grab a beer. Game should be on.

He crossed the parking lot and settled into his new Audi.

Women—always late—what’s new.

SHE OPENED THE DOOR and saw the young, attractive girl.

 Hi there, she said. 

The young girl’s hair shone off the overhead porch light and reminded her of a Revlon commercial. 

You must be Haley.

I am, ma’am. Are you Ms. Wright?

Of course, dear. C’mon in. I’ll show you around. 

 Ms. Wright led Haley around the first floor of the house before guiding her to a seat at the kitchen table. She couldn’t help notice the young girl’s attire, comprising

white jean shorts that exposed the bottom of her butt cheeks and a tight, thin top outlining the buds of a girl in the earliest stages of womanhood. Ms. Wright smiled. 

You are even prettier in person.

Thank you, ma’am. Um…where is your dog?

Lucky? He’s outside. When you hear him barking at the back door, just let him in. His bowl and water are here next to the wastebasket, she said while walking to the

corner of the kitchen. He’ll bark when he’s ready to eat… and his food’s in there. She pointed to the small pantry in the corner.

Ok. I’ll make sure he’s fed ma’am.

Great. You know, your mom is so sweet. I have to get her recipe for raisin, oatmeal cookies. Do you bake too?

I used to but now I’m kinda busy with friends and all.

Oh, I know how important friends are… it’s so important you surround yourself with people who would never hurt you. 

Haley felt the woman stare at her as she lingered with the last of her words. She felt a strong sense of uneasiness and found she couldn’t look up at the woman. Was she afraid to see the meaning in the woman’s face? The woman sat down next to her. Her hand crawled across the table and ever so slightly, a finger touched the tip of one of Haley’s fingers. 

Well, I promised your mom I would get you home tonight. So, I’ll do my best to finish my project, have a bite to eat with a friend and be home before ten. I want to make sure you get home… safely. 

Again… the lingering words. Haley couldn’t figure out the meaning behind the woman’s words. Her young mind was not molded enough to decipher the incalculable clues dissipating like a slow mist from the woman. She followed her mom’s advice and feigned interest in Ms. Wright, even though she could care less. 

Is your project fun to do, ma’am? 

Yes… very exciting. I’m doing research on a lithium project and so far, it looks like it will be very fruitful. 

That’s super Ma’am, Haley said.  

Ms. Wright smiled. Haley thought maybe her mom’s advice wasn’t so bad, after all. 

I need to freshen up before I go, said Ms. Wright as she rose and walked from the room. 

Haley, couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she still didn’t feel comfortable around the woman. She played with the phone in her hands, an inner struggle waging inside her mind. She wanted to leave, walk out the door and meet her mother down the street. But… she needed the money. It was so important. It would help her get closer to a trip to the coveted Apple store at the local mall. What to do? 

Ms. Wright answered the question for her as she emerged from the bathroom long enough to wave goodbye and disappear out the front door. 

 Reluctantly, Haley sat down on the couch, realizing the opportunity to bail went out the door. She looked around at her surroundings, immediately struck by the bareness of the furnishings in the living room. Other than the couch, she viewed a small table, a chair in the corner and a television hanging above the fireplace. There were no pictures, no decorative pieces and no area rugs. Nothing. Haley spotted the remote on the mantel and sat back down as she pressed the on button. It didn’t work. She approached and examined the television. It wasn’t hooked up to anything. No cable…

no Pandora... no Netflix. No Smart TV.

Who lives like this?

She sat and stared at the blank screen for several minutes, trying to ease her anxiety. 

This lady is so weird.

She felt antsy, rose and walked into the kitchen, opening the pantry door. A small bag of dog food sat on the shelf amongst a minor assortment of canned goods. She felt better and laughed.

Finding a bag of doggie vittles makes you feel better, Haley?

The sound of her own voice soothed her, and she didn't feel so alone. Haley looked in the refrigerator, examining the contents. There were a dozen eggs, some butter, milk, and a plastic bag of spinach in the bottom drawer. A six pack of Sierra Nevada beer sat alone on the top shelf. Satisfied, Haley shut the door, failing to notice the items were new and unused. Haley sat down again on the couch and curled up, digging in for the night. The young girl soon found herself immersed in a very meaningful text conversation with several of her closest and deepest friends. She forgot the clues of inconsistency whispering to her from every room. 

It was maybe an hour later when Ms. Wright texted a message. My friend will meet me there before dinner. Please let him in. I’ll be there soon. 

Haley read the text and thought about calling her mother again. She didn’t feel right. She didn’t know why. The text alert signaled again. Her friend Ashley piped in with a text about the vintage Louis Vuitton purse at the town’s antique shop. Haley forgot her worries and fell into the cloud of the text trance that consumed most of the teenage population. 

IMPATIENTLY, DAVID RANG THE doorbell and waited. It was another hot evening and the blazer caused the sweat to drip down the middle of his back.

The crap I endure for a woman.

The door opened and he gasped. He stepped back and fell off the landing. She had long, brown hair and striking green eyes. She was young and beautiful. And most striking… he recognized her, instantly. 

Are you Ms. Wright’s friend? Haley asked.

Uh... yes… I am.

Haley let him in and as she walked toward the living room he couldn’t help stare at the outline of her rear in the little white shorts. He shook his head and tried to re-focus. He found the corner chair and sat down. She leaned against the wall between the kitchen and living room. He could tell she was uncomfortable. 

So, you must be the wonderful sitter Ms. Wright told me about, he said, attempting to relax the young girl.

She looked down at the carpet but he could see the outline of a small smile.

My name is Haley.

Haley... what a beautiful name. Yes, I recall Ms. Wright talking about you. It sounds like you impressed her.

Haley looked up and smiled at the man.

Can I get you something, sir? I think there’s beer in the fridge.

Sure… by the way, please call me David. 

She turned and walked into the kitchen and he stared at her again. Stop it David… not now. She returned and as she bent forward to hand him the beer he could smell the perfume scent on her skin. It was far more intoxicating than the cold beer. 

How do you know, Ms. Wright? 

I don’t really know her. My mom knows her from church, said Haley.

Do you babysit often for her? 

Um, no. Well, she doesn’t have a baby. As far as I know. This is my first time dog sitting for her. 

He seemed unusually satisfied with her answer. Haley assumed he was trying to find out if Ms. Wright had children or not. Perhaps her assumption was wrong. She grabbed the remote as she sat down on the living room couch and tried to get the television to show something... anything. 

That’s okay, David said after a minute of lost time. 

She noticed he had an easy smile. She found him to be more comforting than Ms. Wright. She felt he was kind of good looking for an older man, too. They chatted on and off for the next hour, with interruptions sparked by text messages, sent by Haley’s hundreds of friends on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat or other sites. She noticed the man seemed more and more relaxed with each beer. She wondered if he was getting drunk. 

I'll bet he's really fun when he’s drunk, she thought. 

She found out he owned his own business, running a marketing firm and bossing around over a hundred people. Her new friend, David, had a big house in the hills with a lagoon shaped pool and hot tub. He was friendly and rich. She felt a little envious of Ms. Wright. As he looked at her, she wondered if her makeup was still in place. 

She excused herself as she needed to conduct a make-up check. She felt his eyes follow her from the room. She felt a slight sense of exhilaration at the attention. The bathroom light was dim and Haley thought it must be at least a hundred years old. Where's the Kleenex?

She checked inside the sink cabinet and it was empty. She gave it a valiant effort with her little makeup bag. She gave her eyes a little more smoke and re-covered the redness of an emerging pimple. She played patty cake across her cheeks for several minutes before staring at the results. 

I’m so sick of being a kid. 

She realized she had to go number two and sat down on the toilet. She was three Snapchats in when she felt the cold creeping into her feet. She looked down and realized there was no bathroom rug. 

Who doesn’t have a bathroom rug? 

While texting another message, her eye caught the magazine sitting on the small, corner accent table. It was a picture of a large dog on the cover and a little girl with her arms wrapped around the neck of the furry animal, her head resting softly against the mane. It was clear she loved her four-legged friend. Haley opened the magazine, glancing at the story. 

The title of the piece read, Lucky Saves the Day. 

It was the story of the little girl on the cover. She was trapped in a burning car and her dog, Lucky, dragged her to safety. Haley tried to find the date of the magazine. The magazine looked old, the corner with the mailing information torn off, long

ago.  Could Lucky be the dog outside? Haley finished the article and reached for the toilet paper. Crap! She looked inside the accent table drawer. Nothing.

Seriously? No T.P? What is wrong with this lady? 

She ripped a page out of the magazine. In a moment of irony, she noticed the picture on the torn page featured a well-known bar of soap. She finished her business and with a quick prayer watched the page disappear down the drain.

It was around 9:15 p.m. when both received a text message from their mutual friend.

Haley’s read, terribly sorry. I had to run back to work. It looks like we have a bug in our system. I am stuck here. David will drive you home.

They read their messages at the same time, sheepishly glancing at each other. Haley typed a text to her mother and was about to hit send when David interrupted. 

Hey, it’s not a problem to give you a lift. I also know you want to get paid. I just need to stop at an ATM on the way and will cover Ms. Wright. He looked at Haley and nodded with assurance. Okay?

Haley looked at him. She looked down at her beaten down, has been iPhone. Haley thought about the new iPhone. If she called her mother, would she ever get paid for dog-sitting?

I guess that’s okay, she said. 

Great. 

Haley shoved her outdated and unworthy iPhone 6 into her back pocket and followed David out of the house.

AS HER NEW FRIEND drove, Haley realized she never saw the dog. A pang of guilt crossed her mind.

Should I have let Lucky in?

She was about to say something to David but realized she didn’t want to spoil the moment. It wasn’t her fault the troublesome mutt was wandering somewhere out back. Besides, she didn’t want to upset her new friend. She sank into the rich leather seat. She was fantasizing living a life of luxury with a man like David, when she noticed he made a right turn when he should have made a left. She created excuses in her mind for his errant driving but after a couple of miles she could no longer justify them in her mind.

 I’m sorry Mr. David, but my house is the other way.

Oh, I know, but I don’t think there’s an ATM that way. There’s one close to here. 

He pointed his finger… into the dark night ahead. 

Haley felt nervous. She heard if you smile, it automatically reduces tension. She smiled at him. He smiled back. She felt a little better but reached for her phone in her back pocket. It was trapped against the seat and the tight seatbelt wouldn’t allow her enough movement to retrieve it. She didn’t want to seem obvious. They drove another mile before she noticed him drive past a bank with an ATM.

 Umm… you just passed an ATM, she said. 

Haley tried to smile again. It felt crooked, like only one side of her mouth would go along with the false sense of security.

Oh… did I? Well, let me turn around. 

He seemed a little annoyed at her. He slowed down and committed to a U-turn in the middle of the road. She felt her body shift sideways and against the passenger door. She imagined her seat belt off and she fell out of the car. She pictured her elbows, hands and knees bleeding. Maybe even her face, scraped and bloody. She thought she could live with it. True to his word, he drove towards the bank. But… it wasn’t to be. He didn't go to the bank. He turned down a street full of small, commercial buildings. The street was dark. All of the businesses looked closed. Haley could feel her heart thumping against her chest and she found herself unable to utter a word. David turned into the driveway of one of the dimly lit buildings and drove around to the back. She watched as he drove between large, black metal objects. Big, ugly machines used to make big, ugly parts. He parked and turned off the car. 

Haley felt like throwing up.

I just love talking to you. I thought maybe we could have a beer and talk some more. You know... before I take you home.

I caannn’ttt Mr. David… I’m… I’m only 13.

Just call me Dave… like we’re buddies.

He smiled. He didn’t seem like any friend she ever met before. She realized she didn’t need a new friend like him. Not now. Not ever. 

He pulled out two beers from the pockets of his blazer. As he handed her a beer he rubbed the cold and wet bottle against her newly forming breast. It left a wet mark against her sheer top around the nipple.

She felt him staring… like he wanted to watch it harden. 

Go ahead… drink, he said as he took a large gulp of beer. 

She wrapped her hands around the bottle for comfort and stared down at the floor mat. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to be invisible. But that would not happen. At least, not tonight.

I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Are you hot? 

She didn’t answer. It was a hot night and he was sweating profusely. He turned on the car long enough to roll down the windows. He dropped his empty beer bottle behind her seat and struggled to take off his blazer jacket. The acrid smell of burned oil filled her nose. She looked outside of the vehicle. Huge pieces of machinery surrounded their vehicle. They were grey and ominous. She felt so closed in… so trapped. 

I’ve been trying to figure out where I’ve seen you and I just remembered. You were posting those pictures on one of those social media sites. He paused like he just swallowed a cut of medium-rare filet and now in the process of rinsing with a fine Cabernet. That was you… wasn’t it?

He stared at her. Her mind raced as she remembered the cute poses she posted online. It was just for fun. It was innocent. She was trying to get some attention. She just wanted somebody to notice her. 

Why didn’t I listen to mom?

Yeah, you know… what was that one post? Man, I really enjoyed that one. Oh yeah, wasn’t it called… All That and Sexy Too? 

Haley’s mind flashed to the moment of the picture. She had snuck out of the house and was vaping with some boys, blowing smoke over her shoulder with her butt toward the camera. She thought people would notice the picture. It turns out… they did. 

You are so pretty. He reached over and put his hand on her breast. He wasn’t shy about his movements… at all. I wonder how cute you are without all those clothes on? That’s really what you want to show the world. Isn’t it?

Haley felt the tone of hostility in his voice. He wasn’t charming and dashing anymore. She didn’t want to sit in a new Audi or Benz or fly off to exotic places with a handsome and mysterious older man. She wanted to go home. She wanted to hold the soft doll her father gave her when she was a little girl. They filled strawberry’s belly with soft fluff, like a pillow, that she rested against her head. The chubby arms of the doll fell around her face and hugged her whenever she needed a warm hug. 

He unhooked his seat belt and rotated his body, turning to face her in his seat. Haley summoned the courage to turn and look at him. She wanted to plead, she wanted to beg… she wanted to remain whole. The darkness, tinged by the dim strands of light, ran shadows across his face. The handsome visage was no longer there. There was only a sense of raw hunger. And she was the main course. She watched as he reached down, unbuckling his pants. She froze; the fear, a cold vise around her throat and cutting the oxygen to her brain. She wanted to paw the fear from her body, but she could only stare in horror. As she gasped for breath, he slid the belt from around his waist and dropped it in the back seat. 

It shot into the vehicle like a blur, glinting with silver and wrapping around his neck. His head violently snapped backward and his body yanked away. She heard him gasp for air and a loud thud as his back slammed into the driver’s door. 

And then she heard it. It was a female voice, a strong voice. And it was giving one, simple command;

Run!

The demanding sound of the woman’s voice felt like a wrecking ball to Haley’s fear enshrouded brain. 

RUN HALEY RUN. 

She opened the car door, immediately falling to the ground as her feet moved too fast for her body to keep up. She scrambled up with small rocks spitting from the bottom of her shoes and pelting the underside of the car. She ran around the building and stopped for a moment… frantically scanning her surroundings. It was so silent, dark and lonely. She viewed a vehicle, off in the distance. The vehicle crossed the path of the street and disappeared.

 She ran toward the light… and never looked back. 

THE METAL CABLE WRAPPED tightly around David’s throat with the other end wrapped around the driver’s side mirror. It pinned him against the inside of the driver’s door. 

Good evening, said the voice from the darkness. The words sounded calm and perversely delicious.

What’s going on? HELP ME! 

His eyes darted around in the darkness, bulging from the strain of the tight cable. He looked through the passenger window. A red square illuminated against the blackness and drew near. 

Today is your special day. 

He heard the woman’s voice as the can disappeared from view, her dark shadow filled the window. Silence. She stood there for at least a minute, with no movement or sound. He couldn’t even hear her breath. David didn’t know what to do. Was this some sick joke? What should he say to make this stop? 

What did I ever do to deserve this?

The metal of the gas can scraped against the passenger door as she lifted the red menace and turned the spout toward the vehicle. He stared in horror as the fumes reached his enflamed nostrils. She poured gasoline into the car, drops of golden liquid bouncing off the passenger seat and spotting the front of his pants as he whimpered.  The arms reached further in and the flammable liquid bounced and sprayed across the backseat. 

Please, please… don’t! He begged. 

Is that what they said to you? 

He heard the strike of the match and smelled the sulfur, burning to life. A tiny stick, not much larger than a toothpick, consumed his entire world. As his life flashed before his eyes, her face appeared in the open window. She held the lit match in front of her face and the flames. The eyes. He couldn’t stop staring at her eyes. They had the look of a panther sitting low in the brush, ready to spring and pounce on their prey. But there was more… wait… he recognized the eyes. He knew the face. But the characteristics of the face were so different. But it was her. 

MS. WRIGHT!!! 

She smiled… and then she laughed. It was the laughter of a child, perhaps reminiscent of the simple, giggly delight in reacting to Moe slapping Curly in a scene from the Three Stooges. Either way, it was wrong… so very, very wrong. 

Her laughter was drowned out by the sight of the match dropping end over end onto the passenger seat of his fancy new car. A wall of smoke and rising flames blinded his view. Above the crackle and ignition of flames, David heard the melody playing from her phone. He screamed and yelled at the top of his lungs. Unfortunately, it couldn't drown out the lyrics to his favorite song, Smooth Operator.

2

OFFICER THEODORE GREELY SQUEEZED the last drops of Apple Cider Vinegar into his homegrown elixir. He added turmeric, kale, spinach and a tablespoon of MCT oil. He took one look around before dropping the Nutribullet onto the bladed base and pressing the button. It only took a few seconds before breakfast was ready. He took one long drink before Lieutenant Dipshit Dalrymple turned the corner and entered the room. 

I thought I told you that thing wasn’t allowed in here? 

To be specific, sir, you told me I couldn’t plug this Nutribullet into that particular plug over there. Officer Greely pointed to a far corner of the file crammed room. 

Are you a smartass, Officer Greely? Just how far down do you wanna go? 

Officer Greely took another long drink from his veggie shake, leaving a line of green froth on his upper lip. 

Isn’t this pretty much the shithole’s bottom? 

Are you calling my Records Division a shithole? Is that what you said? 

No, Sir. Not at all. I was asking your opinion. Do you feel this is the bottom of the shithole? 

Officer Greely stood up from the metal stool to his full height. He towered over the fat, round Lieutenant. The supervisor who worked his way up the ranks as a do-nothing-ass-kisser. They both knew who did what in their careers. Lt. Dalrymple looked up at Officer Greely. If he had a beard, he would be a shoo-in for one of those strong as a bear lumberjacks he had seen on television in those wood chopping competitions. He couldn’t help feel intimidated by the sheer power of the disgruntled cop. 

 If it wasn’t for the fact you used to be one of us, I would write you up in a second.

The Lieutenant felt meek and it showed in his voice. He tried his best to look sternly at Officer Greely and psychologically overpower him, a tactic that had worked in the past with lesser men. It wasn’t going to work with Officer Greely. Not by a long shot. Officer Greely responded by standing with his thick forearms crossed, nothing else. Lieutenant Dalrymple lost what little bit of courage he had, turned and walked away. When he felt safer, several feet away, he issued one last command.

You shall get rid of that thing by the end of the day.

He looked toward the shelving when he said it, too fearful to look Officer Greely in the eye.

Officer Greely sat back down on the stool and stared at the rows and rows of records before him.

How the hell did I get myself in this shithole?

He thought about how it all unraveled. The mess he got himself into and couldn’t get out. Was there no other way?

He dismissed the misery from his mind and returned to his morning smoothie and the news of the day. He wasn’t searching five minutes before an article caught his eye. It was just what he was looking for, a recent unsolved homicide;

Philadelphia detectives are still trying to unravel the mystery of the half-burned man found dead in the commercial district. The victim, identified as David Addlestein, was a prominent businessman in the area. He was engaged in numerous children’s charities and active in community social events. He had no children and survived by his wife, Meredith Addlestein. 

Firefighters found Mr. Addlestein after they responded to a 911 call regarding a possible building fire. On arrival, firefighters discovered it was in fact Mr. Addlestein’s vehicle and they found him dead inside the vehicle. 

Authorities have stated there are unusual circumstances related to the case but declined to divulge additional details. 

Officer Greely searched the Internet for more information and found a follow-up statement given by a Detective Kendrick;

Regarding the Burning Man case, we have interviewed several relevant witnesses and we are attempting to locate a woman of interest. So far, we have not identified or found this woman but we feel she might have valuable information relevant to the ongoing investigation. 

We are not asking for the public’s help at this time. The family of Mr. Addlestein would like to thank everyone for the many thoughts and prayers. 

Officer Greely grabbed the black duffle bag from the ground and pulled out a large, three ring binder. He opened to an empty page near the back and scribbled down notes. He located the number to the Philadelphia Police Department and sat down at a desk to use a company phone. After a series of attempts, not unusual for a large department, he located the number for Detective Kendrick. And he got lucky. 

Hello, Detective Kendrick here, the man answered. 

Detective, this is Investigator Theodore Greely from the Atlanta Police Department. How’re you doing today? 

Good, good. Did you say Greely from the Atlanta Police?

I did.

How can I help you? Kendrick asked.

I’ve been looking into some murders and I noticed you were investigating one that might have similarities to mine, said Greely.

Are you talking about the Burning Man case? Kendrick asked. 

I am. Can you tell me what you know about the woman? Greely asked. 

Sure, of course I can. Hey, you know what? I have to call you right back. Give me about ten minutes and I’ll be happy to fill you in on the details, said Kendrick.

No problem. Did my number pop up on your phone or do you need me to give it to you? Greely asked.

Oh, I got it. Get back with you soon Investigator Greely, said Kendrick.

Alright, if you can’t reach me at this number, I'm in Zone Six, the Eastside Squad, said Greely. 

Got it. Talk to you soon, said Kendrick and hung up.

No sooner than he hung up, Greely was calling Zone Six with his fingers crossed. He recognized the voice on the other end. 

Sheila, this is Greely, how’re ya doing? 

Is that you, Theodore? It’s not going good. I miss you so much. What happened to you? 

You know how it is… politics. I’ll be back though. Don’t you worry. Hey, can you do me a favor? 

Of course, I can. You know that.

A detective from Philadelphia is going to call and ask for me. He will probably ask for Investigator Greely. Can you patch him through to my line here?

Alright… what are you up to now? 

Do you really want to know? asked Greely.

No…I guess I don’t. But I'll patch him through. I know whatever you’re doing is good. I don’t believe those bureaucrats for one minute.

Thanks Sheila, I won’t forget.

Stop by and see me, Theodore. I want to see that fine ass of yours in one of those tight pair of jeans, again, she said and laughed.

You're something else. Thanks again. Greely hung up and walked to the front of the Central Records counter, where a female officer sat waiting for the next request for records. 

You seen Lt. Dipshit? He asked as he looked down at her. 

She didn’t hear him as she was too engrossed, watching a video on her personal computer. Greely was about to tap her on the shoulder when she nearly jumped out of her seat.

Ooohhheee, did you see that? That thing swam right up and ate him for lunch, oh lordy.

Huh? What’re you watching? Greely asked.

You never seen this, Greely? This survivalist takes people on trips and films it. This is the third person he’s caught on camera getting killed, said the death-addicted, records clerk. 

And you watch this stuff? Greely asked.

You bet I do. If I ever go on an adventure trip, I want to know how to survive, she stated in defense.

Is that really why? Greely cajoled.

She looked up at him and smiled. Okay, alright, I’m sick… I know. But I tell you one thing, I'm never doin' no trip with Skeeter the Survivalist.

That's probably a good idea.

Now what were you asking when you interrupted my favorite show?

I was wondering if you seen Dalrymple around? 

I think he’s already on his way to the Waffle House for his daily, you should know that, by now, she responded.

Excuse me… please… can you help me? 

The female officer and Greely turned to view a small, fifty-something, African-American woman with oversized glasses, standing in front of the records counter. She wore dark clothing accented by a colorful scarf. Greely recognized her as she held up and displayed another high school picture of her only child. 

Good morning, Ms. Fleming. 

Could you check your records again? Is there a way to narrow the search field in your computer system and try all females under 18 with brown hair and green eyes? She pleaded. 

Greely looked at the desperate woman. He understood her pain. Well, not really. He had no children, but it must be hard.

 I’m sorry, Ms. Fleming. We’ve been monitoring all the reports that come in… we have seen nothing yet that matches your daughter’s description.

The woman looked down for a moment.

You said that could be good, Officer Greely. That’s what you said.

I did. I… He had to look away. He felt like she would see through him, know he was a liar. It's been too long. The odds of her daughter not dead or turning tricks in a drug den were small. 

It’s just… it’s been six months and two days now… and her birthday is next month, she muttered.

I’m sorry, Ms. Fleming. Have you been able to reach your investigator assigned to the case?

He never calls me back. And he’s never in his office. I don’t think he’s doing anything for Aaliyah.