Page 52 of Hello, Listener
“In the case of your missing wife, I assure you we are doing everything that we can.”Just going to get right to it then.He takes the stack of papers in his hands and lines them up neatly. “Unfortunately, we don’t have much that we can go by.”Perfect.
I keep my eyes on his as he goes through the paperwork he just neatly lined up.
“You said the last thing she told you was that she was going to her book club.” He glances up at me with his dark brown eyes through his thick lenses.
“Yes. That’s correct.” I nod. “That was about one week ago now.” I peer up at the ceiling as if I am mentally adding the days in my head.
“Mr. Jones,” he says my name in the most comforting way a busy detective knows how. “Without her cell phone, identification, or herwallet–hell, even a body, there is no way for us to go on.” He pauses and lets out another loud sigh. “Have you tried contacting any of the ladies?” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I’massumingladies in her book club.” The worry in his middle-aged voice makes me laugh to myself.
“You think I haven’t tried to contact any of her friends?” I ask, this time adding a little more harshness to the tone.Play the part, Alan.The black plastic chair creaks underneath me while I sit up higher against its back.
“I think you did everything that you could. These, unfortunately, are the questions we have to ask.” His sympathetic simper is proof that he’s falling for this shitty routine. “You think that she may… not want to be found?” He picks up the paper cup of coffee. The hot steam gets lost in his bushy gray mustache.Damn, baby. Everyone knew you were a fucking cheat.
“I’m sorry, Detective, I don’t follow.” I lean my elbows against the tops of my thighs. My face successfully becomes a facade with worry and concern. Wearing his sympathetic sneer, he gently sets his coffee on his desk. His fingers intertwine, and he places his hands in the middle of the small surface.
“Unfortunately, we have cases like this all the time.” He moves his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Do you think Mrs. Jones could have run away?” I continue to keep my act of confusion. “Did Ashley have any affairs that you know of, Mr. Jones?”Yes.
“Not that I am aware of, Detective.”Keep playing dumb.He leans back in his chair with his arms folded.
“I think you may not know that much about your wife, Mr. Jones.” He pauses, running his large hands over his tired face. “With no leads and no evidence of foul play, there isn’t much we cando except try to continue our search.” His eyes look through the windows in his office as he sits straight up in his chair. “If you want my honest opinion, I don’t think it will do you much good.”
I stroke my chin, moving my fingers over my mouth to hide my smirk.
“What do you mean by that?” I mirror the Detective and sit straight up in the chair.
His body comes closer as he presses his elbows on his desk once more. He lowers his volume to almost a whisper. “I think, if your wife still has her wallet and her cell, she's not willingly going to come home anytime soon.”
“And you’re absolutely sure about this? Why would my wife just leave?” I raise my voice, feigning anger.
“I don’t know. Did you guys have any recent altercations you can think of?” He nervously asks. He’s doing his best, but there is a reason why he is a detective and not a marriage counselor.You could say that.
“Nothing that would grant her just leave our marriage.” My voice wavers.
“Give it time, Mr. Jones. We’ll keep doing our part for the time being. Who knows, maybe she’ll come back home.” He takes another sip from his coffee.
“Thank you for your time, Detective.” He nods as if it’s part of his job description. Another task required by the police force. The legs of the plastic chair scrape across the floor as I stand to leave his small office. The smirk I was trying to hide now covers my face as I walk out of the office door.Check.
Intuition
“Thalia!” Janice’s loud voice breaks my stare from my phone screen. My eyes glance back down at the unanswered message I left for Jace:Where the hell are you?!
“Girl, you okay?!” She breaks me out of a worry-filled dissociation again.
“Yeah… hey, have you heard anything from Jace?” I ask while sliding my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.
“No. Not since our shift a couple of nights ago.” Her eyes peer down as she writes something on her paperwork clipped to her clipboard. “Why?” She inquires, still not looking up.
“I haven’t either. We haven’t talked in a couple of days. It just feels like something is up. We don’t go days without talking. It’s also not like him to miss work. He’s usually in here before me.”
With a fresh new feeling of worry, I cross my arms across my chest. Janice sets the plastic clipboard on the bar and grabs her phone out of the side pocket of her dress pants. I nervously watch her scroll through her list of contacts. She presses the call button, letting out a long sigh, and puts the phone up to her ear.
“Straight to voicemail.” She confirms as she presses end.
“Something isn’t right.” My voice wavers with panic.
“Maybe he’s just having an off day. Like, I don’t know… maybe he missed his alarm or something.”
“He hasn’t answered any of my messages in the pastthreedays.” I grab my phone out of my pocket and show her all my unanswered texts.
