Riddles

Chapter Two

By lunchtime, she had compiled a list of locations her sister could possibly be at, but since the riddle was so vague, it was far too long to even consider going to each of the places; there must have been at least thirty in total. Maybe another riddle would come through the letterbox? Cassie could only hope that this would be the case because she was clueless. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered where the first riddle had come from; when she got downstairs, it was already lying on the doormat, so had Roxanne delivered it, or had someone else? In the riddle, she had used the words ‘They’ve got me, but I’m safe,’ so did this mean she had been kidnapped? Cassie hoped not. She crumpled up the list of areas and sighed; it was no use when she had no idea where she was because they, whoever they were, could’ve taken her somewhere secret, where she would never find.

To Cassie’s surprise, her dad walked out of the stuffy and into the lounge, where she was sitting and watching the local news, the list shoved in the waste bin. “What are you doing out here?” she tried to mask her shock, but it slipped through anyway, as well as some unintended sarcasm. “Don’t you have something ‘very important’ to be working on?” she then felt guilty when she saw the crestfallen expression on his face. “Cassie, did you know Roxxie’s missing?” She rolled her eyes. “Wow. Now tell me something I don’t already know.” He looked confused at her reaction, if a little angry. “Don’t speak to me like that. Why do you know this already?”

“Well, I did tell you yesterday, but you did kind of ignore it and mumble on about how she was probably at a party.”

“I didn’t know!”

“But I told you! Why would I lie to you?!” her voice was gradually creeping from calm to a yell. “Well,” he said, matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you haven’t before.” She just left her jaw hanging open. Cassie couldn’t believe her father had just said that. Had nearly six years in a dark study really caused him to muddle up his truthful, straight A’s younger daughter with his anarchy-supporting, going-out-late-drinking and lying older daughter? Okay, Roxxie wasn’t all that bad, but still- Cassie had never lied to her parents, and was even less likely to because her mum died. Why didn’t he believe her? Anger boiled inside her, and she spat “I believe you’re wrong. I have never lied to you in my whole life, and you know that. You can’t just presume because I’m a teenager that I go around lying and going to parties and drinking!” She glared at him, glad to have shut him up even though she barely heard him utter a word prior to this. She could see how confused he was, and could mentally picture him joining the dot to dots with facts and daughters. She fiddled with a lock of her black hair whilst waiting for his reply. She had been rude and blunt, yes, but she had been right. Her father finally licked his cracked lips, then said “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, I know now. I hadn’t seen much of you two in the past couple of years.” Well, whose fault is that? She thought. “I also know how you’ve been helping pay the bills, thought it was mostly Roxxie, and I’m scared now. Really scared. I want to know what happened to my daughter, and where she is. Richard sent me a text telling me, bless ‘im. Oh, it’s so scary.” She got up off of the couch and hugged him, which probably surprised her more than him. For a good couple of minutes they stood there, until finally, Cassie let go and said “I’m sorry, too. It’s just, ever since Mum disappeared, I’ve been so scared of her going missing and now she has, it’s just…” She swallowed back the lump in her throat and attempted to blink away the tears. “I know,” he whispered, “I know. It hurts me too.”

* * * *

By that evening, the local news had gotten a grasp on Roxxie’s absence and notified the area, providing the audience with a photograph from her graduation, back when she had braces on her teeth. Cassie suspected that the news would spread round the neighbourhood like wildfire as Roxxie wasn’t exactly unpopular. She was very daring; she cut her own dyed black hair with blue and blonde streaks with a blunt knife and wore tight leather clothing. At high school, she was definitely the one who got into the most trouble.

Cassie supposed she did look a bit like her; like her sister, she had inherited their mother’s green eyes, though Cassie was the only one to get the naturally black hair, not like that stopped Roxxie. Not even a freight train could do that.

* * * *

Another couple of boring days passed by as only bills filed through the letterbox. Cassie read each one carefully, but there were no riddles anywhere. What was she supposed to do? It seemed like a game; one which was very intricate and involved moving all the pieces to exactly the right place. It was, she supposed, exactly like piecing together a blank one thousand pieced jigsaw puzzle.

She read the riddle constantly, trying to think of anything subliminal hidden in the text, when finally, the following Tuesday (nearly a week after the disappearance), a clue popped into her head. Roxxie always was a fan of metal music and went to plenty of gigs here and there, so when it said ‘I’m missing at this stage,’ could that have been linked to their local club, where new bands performed every week?

The idea was firmly planted in her head and she couldn’t get rid of it, so she got ready and dressed, yelled “I’m going out, Dad!” and went downtown to satisfy her curiosity, to do a bit of discovering.

When she got there, a familiar tune was being ripped apart (and not in a good way) by some angry teenage boys. It sounded like ‘Firework’ by Katy Perry, but with the way it sounded, she couldn’t be too sure. Cassie casually sat in a free barstool and ordered an Appletiser. She had been to this club a couple of times, though probably nowhere near as many times as Roxxie. She knew the bartender, too; his name was Alex. He had dark brown hair and was one of Roxxie’s many exes, so possibly he could help lead Cassie to the whereabouts of her older sister. She really hoped this was the right place.

When her beverage was handed to her (or, rather, placed on a coaster), there was a small neon yellow corner sticking out from under the glass, taking the appearance of a post-it note. Her heart beat sped up. It was possible that this could lead her towards her sister’s hiding place. On the other hand, it might not have, but it was most likely and she was very hopeful.

She pretended to wipe the bottom of the glass, as if she’d spilt some of her drink, and peeled the note off as discreetly as she could manage. She even sipped her drink for added effect, whilst placing the note into the pocket of her black trench coat. She waved at Alex, handed him a tip, and left, the drink barely touched.