Erudition of Doyle: Volume One

CHAPTER 5: CASE II - THE SECRET OF ARTISAN EATS

Case 2: The Secret of Artisan
Eats (The Missing Children
Chapter, Part Two)

ROSALINDA

We were sitting inside Seven Eleven when I sensed him nearby. He handed me a bottle of water and a donut, while he picked up some fresh mint Tic-Tacs for himself. I forced a smile as I accepted his treats, yet I couldn’t shake the thought of the steak smell lingering on him. Just thinking about it made my appetite vanish.

“Stop thinking about it, as long as you didn’t take a bite,” he said, trying to calm me. He shoved five pieces of candy into his mouth, angrily chewing them with loud crunches. “Right! We have to call the police. I’m too traumatized by what I saw. Quick, call the police!”

Tumango ako at mabilis na kinuha ang aking cellphone, pero hindi ko ito mahanap sa shoulder bag ko. Sa aking pagtaranta, kinakapa ko rin ang mga bulsa ko, subalit wala pa rin akong mahawakan. Nasaan na 'yon?

"Rale."

Sinipat niya ako ng tingin. "Hm?"

“Is this your phone?” I asked, panicking. “I can’t find mine in my bag.”
He just shook his head. “Where is it then?” I rifled through my bag again.

“I think this is yours,” a familiar boy said confidently, smiling. He looked innocent, his hair neatly slicked back, wearing a crisp white polo and black slacks.

I snatched it from him. He sat beside me, leaning closer. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

"You're that short guy. Doyle, that's your name, right?" Raleigh asked.

"Short?" Doyle's veins popped from his forehead. "Ah yes, I am that little guy," mariin niyang sabi.

“How did you know this was mine?” I asked. I never showed him my phone, and the wallpaper was just plain black. With a password in place, he couldn’t have peeked at my gallery or accounts. So how did he know? Was he secretly following us?

“Well, that’s a secret,” he replied.

“That’s why I felt someone behind us—you’re following us, aren’t you?” Raleigh asked, certain. Doyle just grinned.

“Oh, yes, part of my mission.”

“Mission?” Patanong kong sabi.

He covered his mouth, his innocent look turning mischievous. “Oops. You didn’t hear that,” he said, his voice playful and childlike.

“Man, you look like a seventh grader,” Raleigh teased. “How old are you?”

“You’ve got a sharp tongue, boy,” Doyle said, his fiery brows knitting. “I’m fifteen.”

My eyes widened. “Fifteen?!” Raleigh and I exclaimed in unison, mouths agape.

“Wait—Mr. Ivaldez said you’re in grade 12,” Raleigh added, even more shocked.

“Yeah, so?” Doyle crossed his arms as a pillow and yawned, staring at the ceiling. “I’m sleepy. Two days of investigating and I’m missing my beauty sleep.”

“Investigating? What?” I asked, puzzled.

“Investigating the missing children of Sullyerega Subdivision. It’s been going on for three years, and the police still have no leads.”

“How many children?” I asked.

“Ninety-one.”

“Sullyerega Subdivision,” Raleigh murmured, stroking his chin. “We’ve passed by that place, Rosalinda. It’s near Artisan Eats.” I couldn’t help but swallow hard—that restaurant.