Mystery: Missing Rita: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Thriller Mystery) (8 page)

“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.

“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?”

“Like what?”

“How long has this pity party been going on for?”

“Quite sometime.”

“Can I ask why?”

Ryan looked in Tracy’s direction with a confused look on his face. He was not sure what she meant and he simply raised his eyebrows at the question.

“What do you mean?”

“Why on earth are you mourning for that wicked witch?”
      

“That wicked witch, Tracy, was the mother of my two very beautiful kids.”

“Now I get it,” Tracy let out a sarcastic chuckle before going on. “You mourn because somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you pray that neither of your kids got Rita’s wicked fiber.”

Ryan took a moment to decide whether or not he should take offence at the statement but simmered on the words before taking another sip from his glass. He saw the sense in it and did not comment on Tracy’s words. He however turned his attention to her and gave her a searching look.

“Why are you here?”

“You know why I am here.”

“No, Tracy, I don’t.”

Tracy moved closer to him and formed a half-seductive smile showing her stained teeth. Ryan could not help but notice how much she had changed – she looked older, tired and far less attractive than he remembered her.

“Can I ask you something, Tracy?”

“Shoot.”

“What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“You look different, totally beat down, not the Tracy I remember. You look tired and resigned.”

“I know.”

“Then what happened to you?”

“A lot.Life,” Tracy answered before moving closer to Ryan and letting her hand rest on his left thigh. She waited for him to react and push it off but Ryan did nothing about it. She then proceeded to stroke his thigh, her hand running up and down it in a simple rhythm and Ryan still did not react. She looked him straight in the eye and moved closer to him. She let her lips touch his and loved how she could feel him breathe in and out. There was still no reaction from him and she decided not to move from her position.

Ryan out of nowhere grabbed her and pinned her down on her back; he then went on to plant a kiss on her waiting lips as his hands travelled over her body. He cupped her sloppy breasts in his hands as he went to kiss her; he pulled back for a few seconds before nibbling on her neck as his other hand travelled down to her pelvic region and spread her legs apart.

“Ryan, I have missed you,” Tracy mourned.

These words that escaped her mouth had an opposite reaction from what Tracy had expected. Ryan sat up on his side of the sofa and all of a sudden looked withdrawn. He indulged in a calculated silence and threw a side glance at Tracy who was still looking at him expectantly.

“Why the hell did you stop?”

“I don’t know.”

Tracy looked at the expression on his face and recognized it. She had seen it one too many times and had sometimes envied it.

“I know why you did,” she said as she got to her feet. “You still love her. You always did.”

“Tracy.”

“Shut up,” Tracy barked. “And you know what? I wish you never find her body! That bitch deserves everything that is coming her way.”

“Tracy.”

Ryan tried to call after her but she was many steps ahead of him. Given that he had not eaten the night before and had woken up to a glass of scotch, he was slightly imbalanced and slow. He could not grab her by the arm and try to stop her from walking out the door as he wanted. The thundering slam of the door sobered him for a good two seconds and he let his weight drop to the cold floor. He did not know what was wrong with him this time, he could not really tell which emotion to give in to. He however could not doubt one thing: he loved the kiss he had shared with Tracy and hoped it was not the liquor thinking for him.

****

Sam sat in his office with his partner and went over the files in front of him. Lohan was watching a funny clip of a cat playing the piano on his computer while gobbling down a sandwich. He let out a few chuckles as he replayed it a few more times before looking in Sam’s direction.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind today,” he commented.

“I do,” Sam said.

“Care to share?”

“I don’t know, you seem to be quite busy over there,” Sam answered teasingly.

“I was,” he confirmed in an equally teasing tone. “But that does not mean I can’t squeeze in a few seconds for you.”

“Okay, here goes. I am looking at Rita’s personal file and there is something here that doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s that?”

“There is somewhere she was going every Wednesday at 2:00pm but I just can’t figure out where.”

“Have you tried pulling her credit card records?”

“Yes, I have but there is nothing here that says she paid for a service every Wednesday at the time in question.”

“What do you think she was doing at that time?” Lohan asked curiously but he was not taking it as seriously as Sam was.

“I have ruled out an affair because she was divorced and wouldn’t bother hiding the fact that she was seeing a man.”

“Okay, what else have you thought of?”

“I don’t know, maybe a spa, trying to get her own time and breathing space.”

“That can’t be it, not for a mother of two in this harsh economic reality. Remember it has to be something she is ashamed of enough not to let it be on the books.”

“Therapist,” Sam said excitedly.

“That could be it, but why would you suspect that?”

“After meeting her sister Tracy and hearing about Rita’s wicked witch testimonials, I think that might be it.”

“Well done, Sam” Lohan answered. “Now you only have to look for the few places in the city that offer private therapy sessions.”

“That should not be hard,” Sam answered with a wide smile spread on his face.

“Technology has really made detective work easier on you guys these days. Back in the day we used to do the real detective work where we would go out in the field and had to be smart about getting information,” Lohan complained. “But now, information is simply a click away.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“It limits your creativity, my friend,” Lohan went on. “Did I tell you about the time we had to be regular clients in a brothel so that we could get to the bottom of a case?”

“I think you may have mentioned it.”

“See what I mean?Those were the days when people would get real work done,” Lohan went on to say.

“It sounds like you had a lovely time at the brothel,” Sam said before throwing a look in Lohan’s direction and going on. “I think I have narrowed down the two places within the vicinity that actually offer private therapy sessions.”

“See what I mean?” Lohan started to complain. “The internet has totally changed the investigation game.”

“I think I will go find out about this for myself. Do you care to join me?”

“No, I am busy looking at this,” Lohan answered and pointed at his computer screen. The kitten was still playing the piano and looking utterly ridiculous.