THE MISSING
Chapter I
Please
The Hendersonville Sheriff’s Department held a different atmosphere than an expected Monday morning. An unusual crime for the Nebraska town, a kidnapping did little to upset the calm and serene flow. The history of the young woman involved quickly sent the need for any waste of reserved energy pointless. However, as Sheriff Mackey put down the receiver with a hand clutching it in a death vise, this picture full of controlled anger will soon morph into an agitated uproar of fury. John Mackey’s expression silenced the young woman officer upon her entrance.
“Sergeant Kapps,” the thirty year veteran could not form a complete sentence. The man’s beet red expression and saliva launching forth with every garbled word kept the sergeant’s usual morning greeting muted.
Mackey stood his bulk like frame as if to make a point. A black belt was dwarfed by a piece of fleshy overhang from a protruding belly. “When this piece of nosy shit arrives to make a big deal of this nothing case.” The red faced lawman walked over to the file cabinet. “Look at this damn file. How many times has she run away. Damn waste of time,” a hand the size of a catcher’s glove holds the dossier out toward his subordinate. “Sergeant,” he heaves a deep breath. “When this damn specialist with kidnapping comes to the station, you tell me.” Kapps remained stiff. Her usual pleasant light coco hue did not change. The young officer’s clear almost silk like skin showed no difference of expression.
“Sergeant,” Mackey continued. The beige uniform did little to hide the well formed physique beneath the starched pleated shirt. Pants also failed in covering the curve of her hips sitting on slim, yet shapely thighs. Hazel eyes scanned the room as her superior squeaked across the parkay floor in scuffed patent leather shoes.
With hat in hand, the solemn sergeant left the office. Her low bun of soft jet-black hair now sat below the cap.
Her exit did little to quell the irate Sheriff’s conversation.
“Frigin’ detective from New York. I’m supposed to get an orgasm over it. Worked with the F.B.I. On kidnapping cases. Fuck him! Retired just to bust my balls.” He grips his crotch. “Probably a fat, old bastard living off the good Eastern pension those crooked New York bastards get.” Mackey inhales as he looks at the photo of the alleged kidnapped girl. “I hope this bitch gets homesick and comes back before he starts poking around.”
A black Mercedes continued west on US 34. The driver’s long trek from the state capital at Nebraska had been done in complete silence. The sign for Hendersonville allowed the venom to spurt out.
“Fuckin’ dust bowl!” The shout suppressed by the leather seats. “They told me when I took this damn job,” a screech covered the empty road as the distraught driver continued. “This is the damn exit. The friggin’ thing looks like some dirt road to a whore house.” Green eyes look at his reflection in the rear view mirror. As he shook his head, he continued the one-sided conversation. “No coverage,” gritted white teeth with barely a stain eased the tension. The tall irate driver relaxed his taut facial muscles. Over six feet tall with styled black hair produced a smile. It’s supposed to be some runaway.” He shook his head. “The parents must know some shithead in Lincoln.” He reached into the back seat to brush some lint off the tailor made dark blue suit hanging over the window. A tie, with a lighter shade of blue matched the nylon pocket square in the breast pocket and the dress shirt folded on the backseat. He cast his sparkling emerald eyes downward. “I’m filthy from this friggin’ dust bowl.” His nose slides toward an underarm. Broad shoulders shudder. “Man, I stink.” Biting a lower lip his thoughts ran wild.
I gotta take another shower before I introduce myself to the Sheriff. Joe takes a breath. I hope the poor kid is a runaway. I’ve seen enough in New York.” Joe slipped onto the seat as he looked into the rear view mirror. He took the picture of the young woman from his folder and said. “Please, baby? Please?” He bit a lower lip. “Be with your boyfriend partying in Vegas. Or whatever is near this shit hole of a town.”
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As he approached the motel just outside of Henderson, he took one last glance at the photo.
“Please.”
A few miles from the outburst of anger to a feeling of dread, another scene unfolds. One single word is their connection.
“Please,” a torn tone seeps out of the dirt stained face of the young woman. Once, lustrous almost golden blond hair now drape downward over her blue eyes. Tresses no longer can reflect the sun’s rays as fear and pain has mutated them into an appearance of wrapped stands of grease.
Footsteps approach the chained shaking figure. The cold snap of a Nebraska morn no longer can cause this effect. It has been replaced by the heaving breath of her captor and his constant hideous smile.
Laughter is all that fills her ears. A quivering pair of dry, flaking lips strain to open. Whispers can be heard from her trembling face.
“Mommy, please I want…my. mom…” She takes a breath. “Don’t, not again.” Tears run down her soiled cheeks.
Blue eyes look upward at the giggling mass shrouded by the flood light to his back. “Not again…” Her chin rises as to push out one last word.
“Please.”
Hello all:
It has been awhile. Something different for those that know me.
Hope you enjoy.
Keep writing.
Allaboutlove
