The Disappearance and Reappearance Of Mr. Kingsley

The Car

May was back in her cage of distress: the car. She was again, trapped and confined by the doors of the small vehicle, unable to move even in the slightest, being afraid Ethan would do something.

She knew she was being unreasonable, as he only grabbed her arm. Barely any pain was inflicted and it only lasted seconds.

She saw anger in his eyes. The anger she had never seen in her entire life. Not when her drunk father abused her mother, nor when her brother was arrested.

It terrified her.

He reached out his hand and placed it on her shoulder, making her wince.

"What's the matter with you?" His voice was still, not concerning... just... still.

She stayed as quiet as she could muster. As the seconds lasted by, she knew she had to answer.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

"Nothing." She moved her shoulder so his hand was no longer touching it. That particular place felt unclean; dirty. Her whole body felt dirty. A dirt that she couldn't just simply wash off with soap and water. A dirt that she feared would be there forever. For the entirety of her misery.

"Don't try to fool me. Something's obviously up because you're acting like a damn mouse in a trap." And that's exactly how she felt. She wasn't sure was to respond with, as, again, she was petrified and any wrong move could lead to something much worse than a grab.

"I'm just thinking... that's all." She prayed to every God she knew for him to believe it. Lying right through her teeth was new to her, but it had to be done.

For some unworldly reason, he bought it.

At least this gave her some time to recuperate.

She debated just leaving the case altogether. Maybe even leaving the town.

May had picked out a school, a house, and the hand-me-down crib that she slept in as a baby for a child of her own. She envisioned the perfect "White Picket Fence" family story. In a small town, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. She knew all too well about that.

She couldn't leave, this was the perfect place for her unborn child. But Ethan was there, too. Could she really continue this game of cat and mouse for the rest of the case? How long would she have to deal with him and his violent ways?

She didn't know. She didn't know when he would pounce or when he would sit still, but she was willing to endure it for the sake of her perfect family.

Or was she?

_________________

The following morning was a muddy one. It had poured the night before, still leaving a string of gray clouds that polluted that once blue skies.

May's shoes stuck in the mud as she practically clawed her way back into the car, looking out the window avoiding eye contact. Any contact, really.

Once again, May was blessed with the sweet hum of silence. It almost put a smile on her face.

Without the disturbances, she was able to focus on what was at hand. They were making their way towards the school Kingsley worked at. Well, work, present tense, if he was still alive and kicking. Which, understandably, no one thought he was.

Small town cases like this one usually end up as one of these two scenarios: the victim was murdered or the victim was abducted, then murdered. There rarely is a third option. The second option is normally for children, anyway. James Kingsley was hardly a child.

Their reason for going to the school was to take another look at his car. To look at it from a detective's eye. Though it was doubtful, they may find something that the police hadn't.

Also, it was not allowed to be moved since it was technically a "crime scene," even though no crime, to their knowledge, took place there. It's the closest thing they have to when he was last seen. Who knows who saw him once his figure walked off of that camera.

"You take the passenger side. I'll take the driver." Ethan said, getting out of the car, calmly. Good thing he wasn't visibly irritable. Maybe he had gotten a good night's rest.

May just nodded, straining her legs, again, walking in the mud. Once she finally made it there, she searched every compartment, glove box, empty water bottle, and scrap piece of paper she could get her hands on.

The car itself was relatively clean, even by May's standards.

"Looks like our guy was a starving artist." Ethan broke the silence, holding up a notebook. Inside were pages and pages of unfinished and, apparently, unwanted writings. The stories themselves were about all things, really.

There were some about dragons, some about pie, and even one about a talking and dancing koala bear.

"A real charmer." Ethan scoffed, throwing the orchid purple notebook into his satchel.

"I find it sweet." May regretted opening her mouth as soon as she finished speaking. Her whole plan was to lay low and try to get Ethan to get over her, or whatever he needed to do to stop harassing her about the subject.

"So I have to write stories about talking animals for you to be into me?"

She opted to just shake her head and continue to rummage through everything, even though she already had. Twice.