Twisted Knot

missing person

((So I am introducing a new character here. Just thought I'd let you know, so it doesn’t seem like I accidentally posted a different story on here for the first few paragraphs. ))

~Detective Joseph Perry~

            I was in my car, driving through Queen Anne district. I personally lived near the airport, and I liked it that way. Some of these snooty houses and upper class families in Queen Anne were much worse than the people living in rougher neighborhoods. Rich people are still criminals; they just have the brains to cover their tracks. I always caught my guy, and in my specific division I saved a lot of people. Missing Persons, I thought to myself, this week it was more like missing single women. Something about this week was under my skin, causing the wheels in my head to turn.

            Three women had disappeared in a week, and they were out of sight completely. I mean, women disappeared all the time, but this week was different. They were all similar, yet had no relation to each other. Their similarities weren’t apparent to most people, but I noticed. It was my job to notice the details, three women, all in their mid twenties, all in service jobs, all had brown eyes. Eye color didn’t seem important to people, but it was something a psychopath might notice. The kind of distinction a serial killer might see, and use as a rational for a target. So what did the waitress, the secretary, and the nanny

have in common? Why did they all go missing within days of each other?  And why did I have this feeling that they were a part of a pattern?

            I pulled up to the nice house and noted there were two cars in the driveway, and the lawn looked like it needed some work. Why would some rich people let their yard go? Maybe I was overanalyzing things. I grabbed my file and my gun, tucking it away in my holster. These people, the Templetons, had been the nanny’s employers. I knocked and waited, wondering who would answer at this hour. A woman swung open the door, her golden hair was swept back and she was wearing jeans and t-shirt. She had dark circles under her eyes as though she’d been restless at night. She smiled and I noted tat this woman also had brown eyes.

            “Can I help you?” She asked, smiling at me. I noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring as she tucked a stray hair form her face.

“I’m detective Perry,” I said firmly, but kindly. “I am investigating the disappearance of Isabella Suarez. May I come in?” She looked surprised and mildly off put by my words, but she opened the door and led me into the kitchen. I saw a man, a tall man with Dark black hair carrying a child on his shoulders. The child was probably five or six, and was screaming with delight.

“Are you Mr. Templeton?” I asked the man. He paused and lifted the child off his shoulders, telling him to go upstairs.

“No, I’m not,” the man said. “I’m Paul Davis. Is everything alright?”

            “Paul,” Mrs. Templeton said. “He is a detective. Isabella is missing.”

“Oh,” the man, apparently named Paul said. “That’s…not good.”

“Mrs. Templeton,” I said, watching her. She flinched when I said her name, and something felt wrong. These people had a secret, I could tell. It was in their postures, on their faces. Something was off in the Templeton house.

“You can call me Elizabeth,” she said. I nodded, pulling out my notepad.

“Will Mr. Templeton be home,” I asked. “I’d like to speak to both of you.” Paul sat down in a chair, leaning towards Elizabeth protectively. Was he the new nanny? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

            “No, he won’t,” She said. “Stefan is in a treatment center right now, a rehab center. I’d appreciate your discretion regarding that matter, but I can give you the number if you need to reach him.” I smiled, feeling odd. It was curious timing that Stefan was gone when I wished to speak with him, but it wasn’t suspicious.

“So tell me,” I said. “How long did Mrs. Suarez work for you?”

“About six months,” Elizabeth replied. “She was a good worker, and was a nice girl. I was sad to let her go.”

“Why was she fired, if I may ask,” I said calmly. Acting calm was crucial in an interview.

“She acted unprofessionally,” Elizabeth said, glancing at Paul. Something was up, that was for sure.

            “How so,” I asked, gauging her reaction. Strangely, Elizabeth seemed to be upset by the question. Her shoulders sunk and her eyebrows furrowed.

“I’d rather not get into it again,” she whispered quietly. I gave her a piercing gaze.

“Any information can be imperative in a missing person case. Mrs. Templeton, please, I won’t judge you. I just need a clear timeline of events leading up to Mrs. Suarez’s disappearance.” The man beside her took a deep breath and patted her shoulder.

“Mr. Templeton was sleeping with Isabella,” Paul said. Elizabeth buried her hands in her face, ashamed and embarrassed. I nodded, understanding at last.

“And how do you play into this scenario,” I asked Paul. “Did you know Mrs. Suarez?”

            “I am here for Elizabeth,” he said. “I’m a friend. And no, I didn’t know Elizabeth. But I do know Stefan, and if she would sleep with him then you can bet they are more men involved in this story.” Elizabeth stood up and seemed to be shaking. Was she angry, angry enough to kill of her Latino nanny? My instincts said no, but there was something here. I asked some more question before I left and dialed my friend, a very talented Private Eye who worked as a consultant.

“Hey Kelly,” I said into the phone. “I need a full workup on a guy. I need to know his background, credit card charges, anything you can find. I need to see if he is connected to three separate missing person cases, ok?” Kelly laughed into the phone. She was very talented, and I didn’t mind hearing her laugh.

            “What is our guy’s name, sweetheart?” She asked me. I glanced back at the perfect house with the overgrown lawn.

“Stefan Templeton,” I said, pausing. “And while you’re at it, maybe look into a guy named Paul Davis.” Something was fishy with these people, and I was going to find out what.