Before it's too late

SIR-SAH

     "Hello, Sor... Miss Greer?"

"Sir-sah, Saoirse," she clarified into the phone, no one ever said her name correctly. "Yes, and who is this?" She added politely even though she knew who it was, she had added his number just a day before.

"This is Detective Brent Irons" he waited for her to give recognition of him, she waited a moment as well.

"Oh yes, hi, have you made any progress in Trevor's case?" She made her voice quiver and shake with worry for him, when truthfully she was worried about herself.

"No, sadly we have not but we would like you to come back in."

"When?" Saoirse asked not too eagerly as she moved to a quiet part of the hospital to continue their conversation.

"At your convenience, but as soon as possible would be apprec-" She heard the phone drop and scratching as the phone was pulled along the desk.

"Listen here darling," Coleman stated, his voice was easily identified. "We need you in here now, make it work or I will come and pick you up in the cop car." Detective Max Coleman was not Saoirse's favorite person and she was not going to take orders from a person that thought she was guilty. Coleman adjusted the phone he pulled away from Irons in his hand, he twiddled the cord now with his opposing hand.

"Well, I have work so I won't be able to come in until tonight." She heard a button get hit and then she was on speaker phone, all the ringing of phones, echoed voices from officers, key board clicks, all the noise seemed to bulldoze into her and she dropped to the floor in wait.

"That will be fine," Detective Irons said loudly over the noise of the office space.

"It will not-" Coleman started.

"Come in tonight when you get off, we will be here." Irons finished glaring at Coleman.

"Thank you Detective Irons," she said clearly showing her appreciation for Irons and only him. "You are very considerate of other's lives. I do hope you make some leeway to finding him, I do care about him." She added while righting herself from the floor, even after everything he put her through, she still did care, still loved him even. Three years with a person, how could she not?

"Thank you Miss Greer, we will see you tonight."

Click.

"You have the hots for this chick?"

"You can be nicer," Irons suggested flipping through useless information.

"No I can't, honestly I can't." He gave Irons a look of persuasion.

"She is our best lead, they dated for three years, she probably knows more than she thinks." Coleman rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"I don't want to waste my night here, dealing with her."

"Fine then you leave and I will take care of it."

"NO." Coleman shouted, some of the nearby officers turned to them confused and intrigued. "Mind your own business." Coleman barked and turned back to Irons. "I want to find him, and if this chick-"

"Sao-ri-sah... Miss Greer," he was never going to get her name right.

"Yeah whatever, if she can help us and this really is a kidnapping, abduction situation, not just an angry girlfriend getting revenge..."

"I thought you said you didn't think she did it?" Irons countered confused.

"I don't," Coleman said defensively, "but I still I need to be a part of every step. Don't need you getting to soft and not getting us what we need."

"Whatever," Irons replied nonchalantly as he turned back to his desk hitting a few keys to bring his computer back to life. Coleman picked up his coffee cup as he grasped Saoirse Greer's file.

"What do you think?" Irons rose a brow but didn't say anything. Coleman pulled her picture out of the file and stared at it. "Could she be our abductor?" Irons gave a side glance at the picture in Coleman's thick hands. Still saying nothing as he typed up a report from the previous nights case. "BRENT." Coleman bellowed slamming down his cup, spilling coffee everywhere.

"I don't know, damn it Maxwell, get a towel." Irons started scooping up files and his phone only to see he missed a call from his... That couldn't be right, "deal with this." Brent told Coleman as he removed himself from the station. Panting as he emerged into the cool air he stared down at his phone. His hands were shaking not because it was cold, but because he couldn't fathom the idea of this call being real. He should have told Coleman to look at the number see if he recognized it. People get new numbers and this could be someone else's.

"Smoke break Brent, want one?" Officer Riggs asked as he walked out with a few officers.

"No thanks," it's awful for your lungs he wanted to add but kept his mouth shut and moved further away, the smoke still drifted over to him. Brent unlocked his phone and pressed on the missed call. The number was the same. Even after years there are some things which are grinded into our heads, something that will never be erased no matter how much time passed.

Coleman flipped through wet flies fanning them out, salvaging what he could everything was already digital. Coleman didn't know why Brent liked physical copies they were ruined easily, and obviously they were ruined now. Coleman went to reprint the current case files and noticed, well he pried open Brent desk drawer after checking the door to see if he was coming back, and reached for the tiny notebook he always saw Brent stashing away whenever anyone was coming.

Maxwell Coleman and Brent Irons had been working together for 2 years now and Max barely knew anything about Brent. He knew it was wrong and that he should just ask, but Max wasn't much for small talk. Max sat down in Irons seat and leaned over towards the drawer. He flipped open the old, faded purple booklet. Max looked up quizzically, he leaned back in the chair and held the booklet on the desk, act natural he thought as he read the name on the inner flap.

This is the property of A.B. Irons.

A.B. Irons... Max thought as he flipped through the pages mindlessly. He didn't know what he was looking for, he didn't know what he was doing, he should just put the booklet back in the drawer and print out the reports like he should have done already, but he read on.

Brent had a little sister by the sounds of it and Max couldn't believe he didn't know this about him. He knew that Brent was 25, that his birthday was sometime in November, and that he didn't talk to his parents anymore, or they were dead... Max really needed to talk more to his partner and that Brent liked to work until he was basically brain dead, Max knew that for a fact.

The last journal entry was about 7 years ago. Brent would have been about 18, why did he still have this? But Max, being the nosey human that he was pulled out the worn, torn, faded manila folder that was under the booklet and opened the file. A picture of a little girl about 7, smiling, holding a little tabby cat was the first thing he saw paper clipped to the top of the stack of papers. Max looked up again, Irons was still outside, he should check on him, he really should print those files, he really should- but he kept snooping.

Agnes Bethany Irons. Age 6. Abducted from her home on September 14th.

Max looked at the digital clock on the desk, it was the 13th of September, tomorrow would be the anniversary of her kidnapping. Max looked back to the door, he should help his partner, comfort him, but he didn't know what to say. Max hadn't lost anyone, not like that, there were no words to help someone through the unknown.

There were a list of suspects, all cleared, every lead they had were useless. It looked as though Brent was still constantly working on this case, he had recent picture of pedophiles and missing children cases shoved in a tiny envelope in the back of the file. 7 years later and he still didn't have answers about his sister.

"Damnit man," Max put the folder back in Brent's desk and hit print on the reports. He shoved on his jacket and made his way out to Brent.