Chapter 1

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Benton City Today

My name is Ralph Standing - actually it's Detective Ralph Standing now. Took a few years, but hard work and some good teachers got me to the point where writing the exam was easily aced. I've been on the Benton City police force for twelve years. Born and raised in this town of about twenty thousand, and proud of the department's record since I've been a member.

That is, until today.

A call from the Desk Sergeant stating I had a visitor perked up what was, so far, a humdrum day. Standing in the waiting room doorway, I studied the woman sitting on the rail bench. She appeared to be early thirties, light brown hair tied back and an expression that spelled stubborn. She sat with her back straight, knees together, and clutching her purse on her lap.

I walked over and gave her a small smile. "Miss Howard? I'm Detective Standing," I offered her my hand, and she gave it a brief squeeze. "You're here to discuss something about a missing person?"

She stood and brushed at her skirt, bright eyes locking on mine. "Not just one, Detective, an entire family."

Benton City 2004

Captain Bernie Muller scowled from behind his desk at his Detective. The disappearance of an entire family had been stalled for nearly a year and the Mayor, along with most of the council, were fed up with pouring a good part of their police budget into what was obviously a lost cause.

"I've listened to your theories and excuses long enough, Baker, the case is a dead end. The Mayor says no more money."

"At least let me finish out my time, Cap, it's only another four days, and then I'm gone. Retired, and you can stick it in the cold case drawer along with me."

Muller pulled a face and glowered at his desk, a little surprised. Four days! Where the hell did the years go? What the hell. "Okay, Baker, you got your four days, but I want you to take that rookie, Standing with you. He's just taking up space around here, and he's too smart to let go to waste. Teach him something."

"I'll do my best - and thanks, Cap, you won't regret it."

Benton City Today

I sat stone still at my desk, listening with half my attention on the story Miss Howard was telling, while the other half slipped back through the years. An eager rookie dogging the steps of a decorated Detective Baker, watching him end each day hunched over a table, drinking his failure away - or trying to.

The Crawford family disappearance was his final case, and when he retired, he hadn't found anything that pointed to why, how, or where they went. I felt bad for the man, he did everything possible, and I learned a few things the academy should have included in their training.

". . . and so I'm here to see what you make of this and what you can do about it."

"Hmmn? Oh, right, yes . . . ah- I'm sorry, you asked a question."

"Did you hear anything I said?"

I sat up and faced her annoyed expression. "I did, yes . . . it- I was a rookie policeman on the final days of that investigation. The detective I worked with retired and it went into our cold case files. You coming in with this story--"

"It's not a story, Detective Standing, I'm telling you what I found."

"Of course. Again, I'm sorry. You have to realize this is a bit of a jolt after what, ten years?"

"Nine."

The number was bitten off, leaving no doubt about her confidence in my ability to be of any help.

"Nine years, time really flies." I tried another smile. "I would really like it if you would repeat what you told me to our stenographer, and I will make a request for the files. Perhaps afterwards we could have another talk - go over the file together."

"I don't work here, Detective."

"I realize that, I just- it could be helpful if you saw what we did know at the time. Something may pop out that's relevant to what you have told me."

She looked across the desk, brown eyes flashing amusement. "You really weren't listening were you?"

Busted. The heat ran up my neck, and from her hinted grin, it was turning my face a little red.

"That was the purpose of the stenographer, Miss Howard." It sounded as weak a defence to me as it must have to her.

"In light of your connection with the original case, I suppose I could set aside some time to assist. When might that be?"

"Uhm . . ." I looked at my watch and blushed again. "When can you be free? Any time is good for me."

"Let me give my statement and then perhaps we could look at the files after dinner."

"Dinner. Dinner? You mean--?"

"I don't work for nothing, Detective."

******

It took a while to revise my opinion of Miss Howard. What I first read as stubborn and somewhat huffy, morphed into a determined, intelligent woman with a subtle sense of humour - and a world-class appetite.

"Can you tell me a little more about the phone call?" I asked, when she finished chewing.

"When I moved into my house last year, I was given a new phone number that turned out to be a recycled number, as they do after a certain period. The number belonged to the Crawford family who just happened to live on the same street before disappearing.

"I answered a call the other day and a voice said, Phoenix is rising. When I asked who was calling there was silence for a moment and then the phrase was repeated. I said I was sorry, they must have the wrong number, and the voice said, And sorry you'll be."

"Was it a human voice, not one of those Robot calls?"

"I'm not positive it was human but . . . anyway, I did some research right away, asking the neighbours and online, and I learned the story of their disappearance and your department's investigations. I also searched that Phoenix phrase. All I could find was some reference to a documentary on domestic violence - nothing really helpful."

The waitress came by to clear the dishes and offer dessert. I started to say no thanks when Miss Howard ordered a dish of strawberries and ice cream.

"I hope we can get through these files tonight," I said, with a chuckle. "Not sure my budget could handle many more dinners."

"No expense account?" She grinned at me.

"Not for cold cases."

"Maybe we should make sure we heat this one up then."


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