If they didn’t find him, what would I do? I hadn’t heard from Christopher’s parents, though I expected to soon. I didn’t have their number and he couldn’t answer his phone, which was at the police station. Perhaps they hadn’t noticed his disappearance yet. After all, they’d talked on New Year’s Day. I dreaded their call, not knowing what I’d say or how.
After five days, the police had no leads. It was as though he’d vanished. I lived in a perpetual state of fear that I might be next. I waited to hear from Eric, expecting his involvement and demands. I was frustrated that though the police worked hard, they had learned little beyond an approximate time for his disappearance. I needed more help to get results. I wanted Christopher.
I sent a message to Andrew
“Can you recommend an investigator? There’ve been no leads in almost a week.”
“These things take time.”He video called, sympathy in his eyes.
I chewed my thumbnail, which was bitten to the quick.
“We don’t have time. He’s been gone too long. Weird stuff is going on. I don’t want the police to think I’ve lost my mind. But I can’t do this alone.” I was getting used to whispering to Andrew, too.
“Time travel weird?”
“I need someone who would believe me if I said that was a reason.”
“I’ll get back to you.” He ended the conversation thoughtful, rather than annoyed.
Saturday morning, Andrew sent a photo of a business card.‘Wilson Detective Agency.’Then he called on FaceTime.
“I asked around. The Wilsons are a husband-and-wife team, Luke and Ella. They specialize in unusual or unexplained cases. Even though I haven’t worked with them, I’ve heard they’re terrific. They’ve gotten results in situations that were mysterious and unsolvable.”
“Thank you. You’re the best almost-brother-in-law ever.”
“Will you come to dinner Sunday|? Meghan needs to talk to you.”
“I can’t drive in the dark.” It sounded idiotic out loud, even delivered as a whisper to someone I trusted. “I’m scared.” Thanks to Christopher, I now drove in the daytime. I left for home before dark, even if that meant at this time of year, I was leaving work by four-thirty in the afternoon and taking an Uber when I had karate.
Andrew didn’t bat an eyelash. “We’ll come to your place and bring the food. All you have to do is open the door and provide plates.”
I suspected he was worried that I wasn’t eating, but I wanted to see my family. I needed a hug, though my muscles were so tense I might break if they squeezed too hard.
I nodded. “Six?”
When I got off my call, I considered my next move. I couldn’t speak on the phone to strangers. Texts wouldn’t provide enough information. I sent the investigators an email.
Luke and Ella Wilson,
I was given your card by my brother-in-law, a police officer in the Portland PD He says you specialize in unusual cases. I’m not sure how unusual my case is, but I need help. My fiancé has disappeared without a trace, one day after our engagement. The odd part is my circumstance, which may or may not be related. If you take the case, I will explain more. One complication is that I have selective mutism and cannot speak over the phone. I would like to meet in person if possible. Between texting and gestures, communication will be easier than over the phone. Alternatively, I can meet online via Zoom and use the chat function.
If you are interested in my case and are available ASAP, please contact me at 555-899-2411.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Bergstrom
I didn’t expect a reply this weekend. It was Saturday, and Sunday was a day off for many businesses. An hour later, I received a text from an unknown number.
With my heart pounding, I read.
Elizabeth, we’d be happy to hear the details of your case this afternoon. Come to our office on Ninth. Address on our card. Two p.m.? -Ella Wilson.
For the first time in days, I latched onto a shred of hope. It was noon, only two hours away. Knowing how poor I was with time management, I ate a tuna sandwich and left by one. I’d arrive downtown early, but I couldn’t be late. Not for this.
I waited in the car until ten minutes before my appointment, my head swiveling while I kept watch for Eric, then went to meet the Wilsons. Their office was in an older three-story building off the beaten path, but close to work. As I climbed the narrow staircase to their office, it didn’t impress me. The place was run down and smelled like old smoke. Upstairs, the carpets were threadbare, and the walls were scraped and in need of fresh paint. They’d stenciled their names onto the window of a door at the end of the dingy hall. The next surprise was their ages—they were younger than I expected. Ella was petite, blonde, and wore designer clothing. She also couldn’t be over twenty-five.
Luke wasn’t much older. He was tall and dark with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. My first impression was that he was like a quiet Christopher. He had some of the same air of practicality, but I sensed he watched more than he talked. He reminded me of that scene where Jason Bourne had no memories but could describe what he’d noticed coming into a diner—threats, weapons, and exits. Luke’s eyes were like that—they missed nothing.
