Red Cello’s

Mika was a good worker. Which was why her boss called the police when she didn’t show up for work on the evening shift. Vince stood still as he listened.

“When was the last time you saw her?” he asked.

“Last night,” the manager said.

“And how was she then? Did she seem worried or anything?”

“No. Everything was fine.”

“What happened last night?”

“Not much. She came in, did her work, and checked out. Mika was in a good mood and everything.”

“I see.”  Vince took notes. “Any problems at home?”

“No. None that we know of.”

“Any romantic partners in the picture?”

“No. Mika didn’t have time.” The manager didn’t sound certain.

“Thank you for your time.”

“Detective.”

“What?”

“Please… Find her.” The manager sounded so desperate. Vince had his own questions. What was really going to here?

“Okay,” Vince said, patting her on the hand.

“Thank you,” the manager said.

--------

Mika was the model employee and model student. She was a junior at the local university. Studying to be a child psychologist. Her professors and classmates only had positive things to say.

“She always kept to herself.”

“Never caused any problems.”

“School and work were her only things.”

“She got along with everyone.”

Vince frowned over his notes. This wasn’t good enough. He felt like something was missing. Mika lived alone, but she was close to her next neighbor, Emma.

Vince knocked on the door.

“Mrs. Davis?” he asked. “Are you in here? I need to talk to you.” The door opened as far as the chain would allow. A gray eye peeked out. Vince straightened up his suit.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said.

“What do you want?” the woman asked.

“I’m looking into the disappearance of your neighbor, Mika Duckworth. I would like to ask you a few questions.” The woman paused.

“What about her?” she asked.

“What can you tell me about her?” Vince asked. Emma told him what everyone else told him. But she added one more detail.

“We were talking like usual last night when she got a phone call,” she said.

“What kind of phone call?” Vince asked. The woman shrugged.

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t say.”

“How long did it last?”

“A couple of minutes… maybe.”

“How did she look when she hung up?”

“A little worried.”

“Did she say what was wrong?”

“No. I asked but she brushed me off and went into her apartment.” Then Emma remembered something else.

“There was a man who knocked on my door this morning.”

“What kind of man?”

“Really scary. He asked where Mika was. I said I didn’t know. I had to convince him I wasn’t lying. Finally left after ten minutes of arguing.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall. Really angry-looking. Brown hoodie. And a strange-looking ring on his finger.”

Vince froze. “What kind of strange-looking ring?”

“I don’t know. It looked like a bull covered in snakes.”

“Did the hand look scarred up?”

“I guess…”

“Did it? Come on, think hard. Did his hand look scarred up?” That came out harder than he had intended.

“Yes,” Emma said. “His hand looked like it had been burned in oil.” That was all Vince needed to hear.

“Thank you for your time,” he said in a low voice. Vince turned and stormed off. The situation had changed. His case could be connected to Mika’s. He just had no idea how deep the connection was.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He didn’t recognize the number from the text message. Vince looked confused.

“Huh?” He opened the message.

We have the girl. Do as we say and she won’t get hurt. Meet me behind the Red Cello bar. Come alone at eleven. No weapons. Don’t keep me waiting.

The kissy faces at the end made it so much worse.

Vince thought that he was going to throw up.