Tuesday's Gone

VI

    Detective Godard
    ID: #1472

     Godard had run across the small town, empty handed. No one had one clue as to why Tuesday would run away, the dogs had come to a dead end with the tire tracks of her car, fruitless in the dark woods of the state forest, still no Tuesday. Godard didn't want to admit to himself of it being so, but he was at a dead end.
    Godard rustled through his hoarded work space, pictures of Tuesday's artwork was strung across the desk, reports of all background checks on every person, the only real criminal was Joseph, but it was just a drug charge all the way back from 1989. He tried to piece everything together, but nothing matched, he was missing pieces to this puzzle.
    Knock. Knock. The door was pushed open, "Hey, how's it going?" It was Lucas, Godard's colleague and friend.
     "I wish I could say it's going well but it isn't,"
     "Do you know all about Tuesday?" Asked Lucas.
      Godard shook his head, "She's the biggest mystery, I mean she has either pornographic or abstract artwork, she's a poet through this mess, and she's a guy's dream girl."
     "Not to Adam," Lucas said sitting on the edge of Godard's desk. "He has to play around with his secretary."
     Godard shook his head, "Adam has had everything handed to him, I think Tuesday is another thing he was handed."
     "So you think she just left him?"
     Godard shrugged, "I don't think she'd leave Danville without telling her parents," he said. "She has either run away for good or she was kidnapped."
     "Any fingers pointed to the boyfriend?"
      "I don't have enough evidence to prosecute him, I barely have any." Huffed Godard, it was truly frustrating just having loose ends left and right, nothing was connected.
      Lucas picked up a picture of Tuesday, she was wearing slightly revealing clothing and Lucas smirked liking what he saw, "She a Playboy model?"
      Godard turned then snatched the picture out of Lucas's hands, "Give me that," he snapped, Lucas just chuckled.
      "I mean she's smoking hot." He complimented.
      "We'll see how hot you think she is once we find her dead,"
     "Way to look on the bright side, you're only almost a full two days in,"
     "And if I can't trace her in the first 48 hours the investigation will get pushed back because they want me working on another one." Godard retorted. "I'm going to be realistic about the possible results."
     "I don't think you should be so quick to assume she's dead, that's all." Lucas said.
     Godard shook his head and sighed, "I don't know what to do,"
      "The only other investigation the team is working on is for a homicide down in Lexington, but we think we've found our guilty verdict otherwise there's not a lot going on. How about we handle that homicide and you handle this investigation, after all, it's just a missing person."
     "I don't know if it's just a missing person, what if it's another homicide?"
      "Let's hope it's not," Lucas replied quickly. "How do you think everyone would take it? If they found out Tuesday was gone?"
     "Her mother would probably kill herself, her boyfriend would just let her go, she was just a gift to him, just a toy."
     "And isn't it a shame some women are treated that way?" Lucas pitied. "I wouldn't take advantage of her at least, she's one Hell of a woman it seems like."
       "I appreciate you gawking over our victim but can you say least help me out?"
       "Maybe she just left," Lucas suggested. "She needed an escape."
        "But why would she send random numbers about being safe and calling and all of these other things that make this all the more suspicious? Why would she do any of it?"
       "I don't know," Lucas sighed depressingly. . .

    Godard received a sleepless night, he stayed in the office connecting strands of red yarn, then untying. Connecting.
Untying.
Connecting.
Untying.
     Nothing.
     Godard slammed angry fists on top of his desk, "Where the hell is she?!" He growled through grit teeth.
     His phone rang.
      "Hello? I have reason to believe I've seen your missing person," a male voice said through the other end, white noise almost drowning it out.
       Was Godard dreaming? Or did God answer his prayer? "Tuesday? You've seen Tuesday Bingham? Where?"
       "She was heading towards Danville in her car, she was coming from the big city where they said she left for the forest."
        "And your sure about this?" Godard reassured. "She's alive?"
       "Yes,"
        Godard leaned his head back, "Thank you God, thank you!" He praised in a whisper. "What's your name?"
        They hung up.
        Godard pondered about waiting for the morning sun to rise then going to see if she was truly back or to go find her now. He shook his head then laid it down on the desk, exhausted and in relief, but something continued to tug at him; What if it were a hoax? Was she really truly back? God never worked this quickly before in his 30-year-old life, why was He now?
    Godard, who was far too exhausted to even begin to start thinking about that, let sleep summon him. The last thought entering his mind,
    "Perhaps the phone call is a hallucination because I'm tired, but let it be true, a miracle from God.". His heavy eyelids fell and every tensed, aching muscle relaxed.