The Search

5. Andrew

The man who opened the door was in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a formal suit and tie, blond hair combed neatly and a look of annoyance on his face. 

I gulped. 

"Hello, I am Andrew Stowers. I was wondering if you have a minute" I said. 

"As long as you make it quick" the man said. "What's it about, anyway?" 

"We just have a few questions to ask about your neighbors" I said. 

The man looked confused. 

"What about them?" he asked. 

"Do you happen to know who stays in 95D, down the road from you?" I asked. 

The man narrowed his eyebrows. 

"95D? That house has been empty ever since we moved in" the man said. 

"And when did you move in?" I asked. 

"About a year, year and a half ago" the man said. 

"Do you know who used to stay there?" 

The man narrowed his eyebrows once again. 

"You guys cops?" he asked. 

"No, we are... uhm, from Insurance" I used Henry's earlier lie, not knowing what else to say. Surely I couldn't tell them that we were following a suicide letter. "We are looking for some Prutha Henderson and that's the last recorded address we have." 

The man seemed to relax a little, buying our explanation. 

"Yeah, the place is owned by some Henderson's alright, some Morris, too. I think I've even heard the name Prutha around here but I don't know them. I've never met any of them" the man said. 

Relief washed over me as soon as the man mentioned having heard about Prutha. This was it, we were finally here. I had just been to the house where Prutha used to stay. 

"Do you know where the family stays now?" I asked. 

"No idea. When I moved in, I heard that the lady from the house was put in asylum, though. Some Maggie or Madison Henderson something, I am not entirely sure" the man said. 

"Do you happen to remember which asylum?" I asked, almost crossing my fingers. 

The man shook his head. 

"Can't help you there, mate. Look, I'm not really the person who's interested in the gossip that goes around here. The only reason I know the asylum thing is because my wife heard it off some grapevine and told me so" The man said "and now, as much as I'd like to help you, I'm running pretty late for an appointment so please excuse me." 

With that, the man closed the door on my face. 

I sighed and climbed down the porch steps to walk towards our car. Henry followed me; he had stayed by the front steps the whole time. 

"What's the verdict?" Henry asked. 

"Well, there's good news and there's bad news as well" I said "Which one would you like to know first?" 

"The good one?" Henry looked unsure. 

I nodded. 

"The good news is that we are on the right place. The Henderson's we are looking for own that previous mansion" I said. 

"What is the bad news then?" Henry asked. 

"That mansion has been empty for about a year and a half at the least. They no longer live there and we have no idea where they live now or whether or not Prutha is alive" I said.