Loves Me Not

THIRTY FOUR

AFTER
DETECTIVE BRETT PORTER

The weekend didn't provide me with much more information. I continued tracking down false leads and following up on reports of people who claim to have spotted Catalaina. But every avenue I pursue comes up dead.

On Sunday I spent the day trying to give myself a break and have some time away from this case. If I think about it too much, it can get foggy. Sometimes it's best to take some time away to step back and re-evaluate things with a fresh perspective. So I slept in. I made myself bacon and eggs. I flicked around the stations trying to find something to watch. I mowed the lawn. I went for a walk. I cooked myself dinner. And it was as I was sitting down to eat that I realized I had spent the majority of my day off thinking about the missing woman.

She's good at bringing people into her orbit and ensuring they stay there.

Now it's Monday morning and I'm trying at this thing again. The lieutenant has been breathing down my neck all week and I'm fucking sick of it. "You better find that girl soon, Porter," he said to me this morning. "The clock is ticking." Yeah, as if I'm just sitting on my ass doing nothing. But she's no better, staring at me with those green eyes, a mystery waiting to be solved.

There was a point where I empathized with her, but now I just want to scream at her. Perhaps that will be the first thing I do once I track her down and find her hiding out in a motel somewhere on the outskirts of town. She'll have some bullshit excuse like she had no other choice, she felt that no one understood her, she wanted to see if anybody cared. If somebody would notice. Well let me tell you, sweetheart – the entire fucking population of Connecticut cares. And they're all bending over backwards trying to find you.

She's selfish and ungrateful, that's what she is. Does she not know how many women would kill to be in her position? To live in a nice house with more than enough food and luxuries. To be engaged to a successful man who loves and cares for her immensely. She's taken it all for granted. She's run away because she doesn't realize how good she has it. But perhaps this will all be a lesson for her. Perhaps once I find her and drag her ass home, she'll realize what she's been missing. Then she'll stay put and never pull a stunt like this again.

I stare at her open laptop, re-reading the very last entry in her journal. If it is I who needs to be solved, then it is he who holds the key. Well congratulations, Catalaina. You've created a mystery that not even I can solve.

______

It's three-thirty when I stop at the nearest Burger King and grab something to eat. I contemplate taking the drive-thru, but end up just parking the car and going inside.

Once I've ordered and got my food, I take a seat by the window and start on my meal. I'm not four bites into my burger when my cell rings. Caller ID says it's the lieutenant. Jesus Christ, I can't even catch a break for five minutes.

"Porter," I say, mouth still partially full.
"Where are you?" he asks hastily.
I swallow. "I'm just grabbing lunch."
"You need to get down here right now."
"Can I not have five minutes to myself to eat?"
The line is quiet while I wait for him to answer. Then he says, "We've found a body."

______

I drive to the South End of Bridgeport, straight to the waterfront. I see the patrol cars and ambulance lined up as I approach. I park my car to the side and get out, observing the scene that plays out in front of me.

There's a handful of officers present, all assigned with something to keep them busy. Everyone else has already arrived; the forensics team, photographers, and medical personnel. I spot the lieutenant standing on the other side of the yellow tape, talking with an officer. I flash my badge and walk in, heading straight towards them.