Midnight Caller. Diane Burke

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      Tony crossed the break room and opened his locker. A flood of rocks…no, not rocks…eggs…plastic eggs bounced off his head, his shoulders and rolled over his feet. Loud, raucous laughter sounded behind him. Tony saw Spence, Winters and a half-dozen other guys squeezed into the doorway, straining to get a bird’s-eye view.

      “Funny, guys. Real funny.” Tony had to admit it was a pretty good prank. He chuckled, kicked a path through the eggs, and elbowed his way past the gawking men to his desk. His backside barely hit his chair when a loud, commanding voice caught his attention.

      “Marino, don’t get comfortable. Spence. Winters. In my office.” Sergeant Greene hollered from his office doorway. Expecting to be chastised for the egg incident, they filed into the room like guilty schoolchildren and flopped into the chairs in front of the desk.

      The sergeant slid a manila folder across the desk. “Here’s the latest information on our missing woman. Now we have a face to go with the name.”

      Tony picked up the folder, flipped it open and looked at the picture inside. She was an average, pleasant-looking woman. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Her smile warm and generous.

      “Cynthia Mayors is thirty-one, married and has two children under the age of eight,” Greene said. “Her husband was notified this morning and is making arrangements to fly home from Iraq as soon as possible. Meantime, Child Protective Services has been called in to care for the kids.”

      Frick and Frack, otherwise known as Spence and Winters, respectively, leaned sideways stealing a glance at the picture. Spence squinted his eyes and looked closer. “She probably ran off with her boyfriend.”

      “Didn’t you hear?” Winters asked. “He said she’s married, stupid.”

      “Since when does that mean anything? Just because she’s married doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a boyfriend,” insisted Spence. “Matter of fact, I’m sure of it. Look at that picture. She’s grinning from ear to ear. You only see grins like that when everything is new, exciting, and reality hasn’t hit you over the head with a cast iron pot. Don’t see married folk grinning like that as the years add up.”

      “Speak for yourself. You wouldn’t know a good marriage if you fell over it. The ink’s not even dry on your divorce papers yet. What divorce is it, anyway? Three? Four?” Winters brushed a piece of lint from his impeccably ironed trousers. “I’m married fifteen years this May and if you took a photo of me today, I’d be grinning up a storm.”

      “Really? You’re sitting there grinning? Then I’m thinking I need glasses ’cause the only thing I see when I look at you is the same old sourpuss who walks around here all day like his shoes are too tight.” Spence looked pleased with himself for the comeback.

      “Enough,” the sergeant yelled. “Can we get back to the matter at hand and leave the school yard antics outside?”

      Spence and Winters glared at each other.

      Bringing the conversation back to business, Tony said, “I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary at the picnic yesterday, Sarge. I’d bet no one even knows she’s missing. When was she last seen?”

      “Friday. A couple of the nurses report she left right after the three o’clock shift change. She never arrived home. The babysitter called it in late Friday night.”

      “Has anyone mentioned anything that might help us out?” Winters asked. “Trouble at home? Trouble on the job? Anybody hanging around or bothering her?”

      “As you know, we’ve just begun the investigation,” Sarge said. “So far we know her husband’s in Iraq. She talks about her family a lot, especially her kids. Carried umpteen photos in her purse and took the time to show them every chance she had. Other than her husband being away, everything seemed good on the home front. From what I’ve heard, she’s well-liked by her peers. As far as a stalker, no one noticed anyone suspicious hanging around.”

      Sergeant Greene leaned back in his chair. A scowl twisted his features. “The particulars of her disappearance match those of the other two women we’ve lost.”

      Winters said, “How do you figure, Sarge? Both our prior victims were single. This one’s married.”

      “And both our other ladies are dead,” Spence said.

      “That’s why we’ve got to move on this pronto, gentlemen,” Sarge replied. “All three women seem to have disappeared into thin air. No witnesses. No signs of struggle. Two of the women left their jobs and never arrived home. The third woman left her home for an appointment and never arrived. That’s enough to tie them together for me.”

      The sergeant tossed his chewed yellow pencil on the table. “It’s worth a hard look. If there’s a connection between Cynthia Mayors and the other two victims, I want to know it before she becomes victim number three. This isn’t New York or Chicago. If a woman’s body shows up here, we’re probably looking at a domestic dispute, a drug overdose or a bar pickup gone bad. Two women disappear in this community and then turn up dead? That raises the hair on the back of my neck. A third woman vanishes? I gotta tell you I’m wondering if Ted Bundy’s younger brother just moved to town.”

      “We hear you, Sarge. We’ll get on it right away,” said Winters.

      Tony picked up the folder and carried it back to his desk. Yesterday’s picnic had been a waste of his time. He should have been out with the other men canvassing the neighborhood, conducting interviews.

      The image of a freckle-faced boy and a mom with auburn hair popped into his mind. He had to admit it hadn’t been a total waste of time. He might have the chance to do something special for a handicapped kid. That made him feel good.

      He loved kids but decided never to have a family of his own. Choosing to be a cop was a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week, dangerous job. He didn’t want to subject a child to the possibility of growing up without a father. Been there, knew that pain. So he fed the occasional paternal urge with his sister’s kids or helped out with the church youth group.

      Besides, what kind of father would he be? He’d never had a role model. Just like that kid he’d met today. No uncles. Not even an older brother. His mom didn’t bring dates home to meet him ’til his late teens. It had been just him, his mom and his sister. What if he didn’t measure up? He saw the results of bad parenting every day on his job. Nope. No kids for him.

      Tony dragged his hand over his face. He needed to buckle down and work. But on what? They didn’t have one lead that hadn’t been investigated. As much as it sickened him, he had to acknowledge they’d hit a brick wall and couldn’t do another thing but retrace their steps until the killer made another move.

      He flipped open the folder and studied the picture. This woman was somebody’s wife, somebody’s mother, somebody’s friend. Experience told him she was probably already dead. Sarge was right. Three was a very unsettling number.

      TWO

      Erin tugged the business card out of her pocket.

      “I see you still haven’t thrown that away.” Tess plopped her ample girth onto a nearby kitchen chair. “Must be you are at least considering the lad’s offer.” The older woman squinted. “What are you doing in here, anyway? Cleaning the kitchen is my job.”

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