A Dream by Noon.

Chapter 13.

Davis did not waste time. Time was ticking for the girl and also for him to return to the city. He was not sure which fueled him more. He had worked for years to avoid the trap that was this town and wasn't going to be sucked back in. After all the other officers had dispersed, he remained, staring around at the old buildings that were the center of this giant property; stared up at the broken glass windows from years of tennis balls and baseballs flying into them, looked at the rubble of chipping paint and pieces of the building that had cracked and fallen all around it. A flash of memory brought him back to when this place was not broken and falling apart but then it was quickly replaced by what was in front of him.

As he watched officers head down into the woods and around the buildings, he looked in the opposite direction. Across the street, through the trees lining the front of the property, he could see two houses. A flash of light in the one directly across caught his attention, and in a split second he noticed a curtain swooshing closed. With a lack of direct orders, he took the path less traveled, away from the others, and walked to the house.

It was a moment before anyone answered the door. Shuffling inside could be heard after the first couple knocks. Davis waited. His lifted his hand up to knock again just as the door opened slightly. On the other side of it, an older woman peeked through the 6-inch crack.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Um, yes, hi ma'am. My name is Detective Davis. I..."

"You don't look like a detective." She interrupted sharply, staring at his jeans and coat.

Davis realized how strange he probably looked but did his best to convince the woman of who he was. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his badge to show her.

"I'm helping Sergeant Pasquale with the investigation across the street." He continued as she stared at the badge. Davis waited a moment, pointing to the crime scene unfolding within her view.

The door opened wider. As the woman stood there, her expression softened only a bit. A long fuzzy sweater open in the front hung down to her knees over rose colored pajamas. She stared through the trees into the front of the hospital property. "What's going on over there?" she asked, her door opening further, curiosity getting the best of her.

"There's a girl missing." Davis answered. "Your neighbor, Sam Mourey. White house down the street. Have you seen her since yesterday... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

A new expression had formed on her face, and Davis couldn't tell if it were surprise at the case or recognition of something. "It's Helen. The little Mourey girl? That's what all the fuss over there is about?" She stared back at the hospital, drifting into thought, then back at Det. Davis. "Poor thing. Why are you all searching the hospital?" she asked.

Detective Davis repeated his question before answering hers. "Have you seen her, at all, in the last day or two?" he asked again.

"Oh, no, no I don't think so." She answered. "Do they think she's out back there somewhere? Kids are always wandering out there." She said, her voice trailing off as she stared at the property.

"They are? What kids?" Davis pressed.

"Would you like a cup of coffee or tea, detective?" Helen asked, opening the door further and stepping back.

Davis hesitated only for a moment, both wanting the caffeine and additional information as he stepped inside.

Helen led Mike Davis into the kitchen and pulled a chair for him. "Coffee would be great." He said, remembering the offer. Helen walked over to the coffee pot that sat upon countertops that matched her pajamas. Davis fiddled with her shirt sleeve nervously, trying to remember the questions he had to ask. He was out of practice and experience when it came to interviewing actual people. He was out of practice with people in general he felt.