Heartstrings and Handcuffs, A Detective's Dilemma

Chapter 2

Marcus

Just a week ago, my phone buzzed with a call from Jonathan Mitchell. His name sparked a flicker of recognition; I'd seen it flash across the television screen as the father of Ava, the woman who had mysteriously vanished three weeks before.

I visited their house to meet them. They struck me as genuinely kind people. Despite looking around their house, nothing seemed particularly important except for the note I took from Ava's sister, Olivia. I opened the note on my way back to my apartment, expecting nothing unusual.

"The one person I trusted most has deceived me."

Upon reading the words scrawled on the piece of paper, I couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. "Not much of a clue," I muttered to myself. Who could she have trusted, only to be betrayed in such a manner? The mystery deepened, and I knew I had my work cut out for me in unraveling the truth behind her disappearance.

I sink into my couch, and the clock silently ticks past noon, a reminder of the hours slipping away unnoticed. With a weary groan, I rouse myself and make my way to the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. I shuffle past my bulletin board, adorned with photographs of my clients. Among them, freshly pinned, are the photographs of the Mitchells. I took a moment to study the images, absorbing the features of Ava's parents and Olivia. Their expressions held a story untold.

My attention was fixated on Olivia, her freckles accentuating her features with a natural charm. Her long, brown hair perfectly complemented the color of her eyes. I couldn't help but acknowledge her beauty. Memories of her flooded back when I first saw her descend the stairs. I pushed aside the odd sensation creeping over me.

Savoring the warmth of my coffee, I decided to reach out to Olivia. I needed a deeper understanding of Ava, and her sister was my best bet for more information.

"Olivia, it's Marcus. Can you spare some time to meet with me today?" I inquired over the phone.

There was a brief pause before she responded, "Where?"

"I'll come to you," I replied.

I grabbed my keys and headed swiftly to my car. The drive from my apartment to their house was a short one. Within minutes, I found myself parking in front of their residence.

"Hey," she said, greeting me with a smile as I approached.

I responded with a simple nod, holding the car door open for her. Without hesitation, she hopped into the passenger seat.

We drove for a short while before reaching the lake near their house. The calm waters glistened under the clear sky, reflecting the surrounding trees on their still surfaces. Finding solace, we sat on a wooden bench, taking in the scenery before us.

I lean in slightly as I speak, "Could you tell me more about your sister Ava? What's she like? "

Her eyes seemed to flicker with memories as she spoke. "Ava, she's something else; she's smart, responsible, and always wearing that cheerful smile. But let me tell you, there's more to that. She likes to put up this front of being tough, but deep down, she's fragile. You might think she's strong, but inside, she's struggling like the rest of us."

I listened intently, absorbing every detail. "And what about her relationship with your parents? "

"Good," she replied, her tone laced with a hint of ambivalence. "There's nothing special about it. Our family is not perfect."

"And what about the two of you?" I probed gently, curious about the bonds that tied them together.

"We get along with each other since our age gap is only a year," she recalled. "She's always there for me whenever I need her. We're opposites, but we manage to make a way out of everything."

"You said your sister has a boyfriend, Philip, right? "

She nods.

"How long have they been together?"

"Three years," she replied.

My curiosity picked up, and I dug deeper. "How is her relationship with Philip?"

She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Hmm," she began. "I can tell she's happy. But they fight a lot."

"Tell me more about it," I urged.

She hesitated before speaking. "Philip has this bad temper, and my sister has quite the patience, so every time they fight, it's always my sister who forgives. There were times that it got to a point that I think he's hurting her physically, but Ava said the bruises are from her being clumsy."

My mind raced with possibilities as I considered the implications of her words. "Did you talk to your parents about this?" I asked, concern evident in my voice.

"No," she confessed. "Ava said not to tell. The days before she went missing, I found a large bruise on her neck. I didn't tell anyone."

A chill ran down my spine as the pieces of the puzzle started to come together, painting a disturbing picture of the potential danger her sister might be facing.

"Do you think you're going to find her?" Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts, pulling me back to the grim reality of the situation.

I was uncertain of how to respond without raising false hopes, so I chose my words carefully. "I'll do everything I can to find Ava."

Her tears flowed freely now, and I could feel her pain echoing in the air. Despite my efforts to maintain professional distance, I couldn't bear to see her suffer.

"It's my fault," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst her sobs.

My heart ached at her words. "What do you mean?" I inquired, meeting her gaze with concern.

"If only I could have protected her, this wouldn't have happened," she lamented, her voice trembling with emotion.

Without hesitation, I moved closer, offering what little comfort I could. Gently, I guided her head to my shoulder, whispering, "We will find her." At that moment, empathy outweighed the need for professional detachment as I shared her grief and resolved to bring her sister home.

We sat in silence, and time seemed to stretch endlessly. The fading light outside hinted at the approaching nightfall. Driving her back to their house, the tranquil neighborhood was bathed in the soft glow of streetlamps.

Glancing at my watch, I noticed the time had slipped past 8:30 in the evening. Outside, the street was alive with the rhythm of closing shops and bustling pedestrians eager to reach the comfort of their homes before dinner. I remained seated inside my car. I was contemplating whether I should retreat to the comfort of my apartment, where a warm bath awaited. Or should I stay, allowing myself to fully process the emotions that have accompanied me throughout the day? Lost in this internal debate, I sat still, the decision hanging heavy in the air as the evening unfolded outside my window.

A familiar beep interrupted the quiet of the car, drawing my attention to the passenger seat. Retrieving my phone, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I read a message from Olivia.

I didn't get the chance to thank you for today. Sorry, I was a bit emotional =) Please take care of yourself x

I typed out my response, wishing her a good night, before tucking my phone back into my pocket.

Entering my apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that something inside me had been reignited—a spark that had lain resting since Ingrid. It was a sensation I had longed for, and as I settled in for the night, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought it back to life.