The Diner Dilemma

“Hello, Sanec Barker,” Vulpecula said, his teeth on-edge as he looked around at the big, empty office in all its splendor.

Psittacus, the Lieutenant of the Urgway Police Department, hadn’t said much on Sanec Barker’s behalf. Detective Barker had serviced the department for fourteen years. Psittacus described him, professionally speaking, as adequate and a complete, total jackass. However, he did gain recent success for his collaborations with Rescue, helping to successfully apprehend The Shock. The operation did wonders for Sanec’s career, snagging him some nice, new digs and finding himself in a higher position of power as a result. The Fox Detective looked forward to meeting him.

As the elevator doors parted way, the person beyond them was not who Vulpecula thought they would be.

Quite literally, that is, because the individual who walked out from the elevator was a woman. An unfamiliar face, the woman was a dog, Maltese breed, with white fur and a small, innocent, if, perhaps, nervous way of carrying herself. The woman walked through the elevator, coming to an immediate stumble, in her hands, she tried, unsuccessfully, to carry four medium-sized cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier. The word “unsuccessfully” comes because, when she made her first few footsteps, the woman came tumbling down.

Vulpecula sprung to his feet, quickly tending to the woman. The cups had been salvaged, they hadn’t spilled out or anything, which was probably because the way the woman fell. The woman made no attempt to break the fall for herself but made all the effort in the world to protect them from landing too hard.

The woman was receptive to Vulpecula’s offering, taking his arm and allowing him to assist her back to her feet.

“Thank you, … sorry about that, … but, thank you,” the female dog said.

Her fur was a snowy white, not unlike V’s, with the hair on her head longer on the front, creating a frame around her face.

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything,” Vulpecula reassured, giving a smile that the woman wasn’t even looking at him to see.

“I almost did though,” the woman said. “I almost spilled the coffee. Would’ve hated to hear the tongue-lashing Detective Barker would give me if I stained the carpet of his new office.”

“Are you friend of Detective Barker?” Vulpecula asked, following behind as the woman walked to Barker’s desk and rested the cardboard carrier with all the coffee on his desk.

The lady laughed at the idea, as if it was too far-fetched to even consider. “Gosh no, I’m his secretary, my name’s Zoey, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Vulpecula shook her hand, nodding his head to return the sentiment. “My name’s Vulpecula, I hope to join the police rankings here in Urgway.”

“Oh, what academy did you go to!?” Zoey asked, a warm, cuddly enthusiasm that felt rare and out-of-place in Urgway.

“I attended Survek University College in Acera for several years for my Criminal Law degree. I’ve spent the last few years as a private investigator throughout the Maharris area since then.” Vulpecula explained, looking down at the coffee cups, realizing, at that very moment, how very much he thirsted for caffeine.

“Is one of those coffees for me?” Vulpecula asked.

He second-guessed himself for imposing but thought it reasonable. After all, there was four coffees there, it seemed logical to think one might have been his. Zoey shook his head at him, still maintaining her smile.

“These are all for Detective Barker,” she explained. “A new coffee shop opened up a few buildings down, he asked me to fetch him a sample of them. This would be his fourth.”

“Oh,” Vulpecula said, unable to fully hide his disappoint, but already planning his next stop to be at the new coffee place. “Is Detective Barker here, then?”

Zoey nodded. Something peculiar about her smile that Vulpecula caught made it feel as though she wasn’t particularly overjoyed about that fact.

“I suppose that I’ll wait for him then,” Vulpecula said, adjusting his collar.

“Oh, Barker isn’t allowing simpletons to enjoy his company at this time.”

Vulpecula stared blankly.

She, then, added, “His words not mine.”

“Oh, well, Mr. Barker actually requested to handle my orientation personally,” Vulpecula said, demoting Barker from a Detective to a mister as a petty sign of his own irritation.

“Oh, he left you a sticky note!” Zoey announced, a sense of pride in herself for remembering what was, apparently, such an insignificant detail.

Vulpecula smiled graciously, watching on at Zoey’s busy fingers while she flipped through a small notebook shaped calendar that was on Mr. Barker’s desk. She sat in the chair, swiveling it around side to side in a rhythm while she searched.

“Here it is!” Zoey said, “… Right next to the dry-cleaning reminder.”

“Great,” Vulpecula said, feeling slightly dejected and depleted of his enthusiasm.

Zoey handed him the sticky note and then, as if she had just realized she’d committed a terrible crime, sprouted out of Mr. Barker’s desk, realigning it and pushing it back in to its designated spot. She had her head bowed down and giggled nervously at Vulpecula as if she was secretly pleading with him not to tell on her for the nefarious act.

Reaching for the sticky note, Vulpecula had it read before it even reached his paw. The small piece of paper was only a few inches in diameter and Vulpecula could see the residual ring of a coffee stain. The practicality of such a detail made The Fox Detective believe it was for his own benefit. This, Mister Barker, wanted him to feel inferior. Barker wanted him to feel like he didn’t matter. For further proof of that, the note, which V was explicitly told to acquire, read only:

 

Go ask bird brains for the details of your first case. – B

 

Vulpecula smiled. Sanec proved to be a … unique individual, V now denounced the dog’s right to last-name privileges.

“And, what do I do if I have any questions regarding the case he has in mind?” Vulpecula asked, standing up from his seat, thinking it was as good a time as any for him to make his leave.

“Ah, yes, Detective Barker thought you might ask that, he says he has your number.”

Vulpecula stared blankly at Zoey for a second, sighed, then walked into the elevator.

 

2.

 

Sanec had, in-fact, left “bird brains” with details on a case, and thankfully, the details were more descriptive than that of a sticky note. Detective Psittacus was about as warm as he ever was, the parrot was never all smiles, but the curmudgeon especially snarled at the mention of Sanec. If Vulpecula were to assume, it was because the parrot thought he had rid himself of anything to do with the recently promoted detective.

The Marybeth Police Department wasn’t anything to write home about. Marybeth was far from a village, with thousands upon thousands of citizens clumped together into cubicle shaped homes. That made the cluttered disorganization of the Department more unsettling and demoralizing overall. Sanec’s office by itself was more spacious than the detective district’s in its entirety but Psittacus claimed they rarely had much interference from the criminal bigwig higher-ups, his cynical sentiment being that they were either corrupt or apathetic. Resources were scarce and inconvenient, the only way the department could analyze a blood sample was by requesting services from the neighboring city of Harmony (the irony of any city being called Harmony in Urgway wasn’t lost on V).

Vulpecula sat at an empty desk, slightly swiveling to the left, then, the right in a computer chair that had white stuffing peeking out from the leather knockoff. He opened the folder up, slapping down the sticky note Sanec gave him onto the opened side.

 

Dear Mr. Noel,

 

My name is Sanec C. Barker and I have decided to test your mettle on your abilities as a detective. Obviously, you will not be able to measure to the work I contributed to the department, and so, I would recommend considering yourself as Detective Lucky’s replacement, not as mine.

In retrospect, I think there’s a worthy cause for debate on whether I will ever be replaced. I contributed years (turn the page) and years to the department, becoming the measuring stick for others to be compared.

In all honesty, I remember a time when I was like you, lacking experience or insight, or any sort of ability. Then, after I started kindergarten, all that was pretty much cleared up for me. Maybe you’re a late bloomer? I wouldn’t be surprised. Urgway’s a tough place though, and so, you’ll need sharp wit, if your fur was red like a real fox, it’d be scared white again by the simple fear that such an area can cause. (turn the page)

 

Vulpecula stared blankly at the confines of the folder for a second. He took in a breath and let it leave him, rubbing his temples, The Fox Detective had to resist the urge of banging his head against the cold metal desk before him.

S.C. certainly loved to praise himself. V called him S.C., because he was no longer worthy of a first name, an initial nickname would be enough.

 

I found out that you were not first in your class in high school. I find this especially curious when you consider that I, myself, WAS first in my class in high school. I thought it seemed like it was worth mentioning given our circumstances.

Your father is Henley Noel, I found that very notable. After all, the guy was reportedly gunned down when you were a young lad. How did that bother you on an emotional level? Did it make you feel angry and frustrated? As if you were cheated out of something important that others take for granted? Because, I’ve heard that can really traumatize someone. One minute, you’re playing nice on the playground, next minute, you’re leading a terrorist group intending to take over all Maharris.

 

From this point on, Vulpecula no longer read what was being said but, instead, skimmed through it. It was mostly rambling and condescending babble that made it clear how little Barker thought of him. The folder had pages and pages of documentation, but it wasn’t until about ten pages in that S.C. started talking about the actual case itself. Either this man was the most arrogant, self-glorifying person alive, or he was intentionally trying to induce irritation. Or both.

 

A woman from a coffee shop I used to frequent was recently kidnapped. (I’ve since begun looking for a new coffee shop, I have had Zoey bring me new coffees every day. I’ve written extensive reviews over the ones I’ve tried so far on the last few pages.)

The woman’s name is Alyssa Wallace, she is a waitress and she went bye-bye. Your objective is to find out who did it. She was last seen on Tuesday, disappearing in the middle of her shift, which was an inconvenient time to be kidnapped for the rest of the staff. They spoke well of her, nonetheless. Start wherever you want.

Good luck,

 

– The newly appointed head detective of all Urgway affairs, Detective Sanec C. Barker

 

3.

 

The coffee shop was more difficult to find than it should have been. This is because, amidst S.C.’s elaborate explanations and ramblings, the man didn’t bother to provide the name of the coffee shop or an address. He did, thankfully, include the name Alyssa Wallace, which The Fox Detective browsed search engines with until finding a probable match, a profile page on a social media website told V she worked at somewhere called Buddy’s Diner, the logo for the diner was an illustration of a brown boxer with an over-the-top grin.

Buddy’s Diner seemed pleasant enough, it was a non-corporate mom and pop coffee shop through and through. The small building had previously been owned by another diner, and, before that, it had doubled as a convenient store and a gas station. Each undertaking only lasted the owners a few months before they realized their venture wasn’t fiscally maintainable, Buddy’s Diner was the trooper that weathered the storm, however, and managed to keep itself afloat.

The Fox Detective walked down the streets beneath the gloomy sky upon entering the diner, the weather had been chilly this evening which made him yearn for the green scarf he most often wore. The suit hugged his body in an uncomfortable fashion and no matter how much he loosened the tie around his neck, it still felt like it was taking his breath away. The formal attire and professionalism weren’t the best fit for him, but he knew he needed the stability of a real routine and actual structure.

The entrance had two support beams made of brick. They looked old and dirty, with a brick or two appearing like The Detective could remove it if he tried. He did not. Other-wise, however, it gave off the aesthetic of two pillars ushering one to a place that looked fancier than it was.

A small bell sounded, alarming the employees of his presence, as his eyes surveyed the area. In his head, he organized and collected his thoughts. The first and foremost thought was that he couldn’t imagine Urgway’s head detective ever actually eating at such a location.

The small diner wasn’t a bad establishment, in-fact, if Lacerta and Apus hadn’t since returned to Acera, it was the kind of place that The Fox could have certainly seen them drinking coffee and breaking bread at.

The area had a look that fascinated him. The theme seemed to aim for a laid-back, country vibe. The whole thing really contrasted what the traditional lifestyle in Urgway was and was more representative of somewhere like the part of Acera closest to the Amisoic Sea. In-fact, that was only half of it, it even reminded him of Hardan, which had a very large and famous forest, with creek and river off-springs of the Amisoic Sea bleeding out into it. It was kind-of refreshing, to tell the truth. The whole place was a good change of pace from the bleak and dreary streets of Urgway.

The carpeting was a dark brown variation with a conglomeration of similar textures, Vulpecula suspected it was meant to look like mud, the great outdoors, in other-words. The rest of the surroundings supported that belief. The wallpaper looked camouflaged by depictions of a forest, albeit, with a grayish blue tint layer over to keep it from being too “in your face.” The walls had fishing pole décor, with strings strewn about overhead. There was even a canoe hung up on one of the walls, with two paddles right beside it.

Vulpecula could take or leave the themes altogether, though, he could see how some might appreciate it. Still, with absolute certainty, he deduced that Urgway’s head detective wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place. Unless his new position had changed him drastically in only a few days’ time, Buddy’s Diner was too beneath what the head detective thought himself as.

The Fox continued fourth, a panda with a round-face found her way in-front of him, a courteous smile on her as she spoke.

“A table for one or are you expecting friends?” The woman asked, her name-tag read Talia, and she wore a white buttoned up shirt and black pants.

“Just one,” Vulpecula said, missing both Lacerta and Apus at about this moment. “And, a minute of your time, if I may. I work for the Marybeth Police Department and am looking for information regarding a woman named Alyssa Wallace that is employed at this diner.”

The panda, Talia, looked at him with a wide-eyed expression that showed, possibly, that she understood. She nodded her head, “I believe that Robbie Smith is the one you want to talk to about that.”

Vulpecula smiled. “Then, I’ll talk to Robbie Smith. Is he the manager, perhaps?”

“No,” Talia replied, “Just the one you’re supposed to talk to.”

Vulpecula adjusted his collar and followed Talia while she led him to a small square table. The panda handed him a menu and said that she’d inform Robbie of his arrival. The Fox Detective nodded his head like he wasn’t a little confused by the happenstance and feigned going through the menu. The menu was fashioned in black letters beneath a dark-green background, with an array of photographs showing a lot of the food that was offered. The color choices hurt Vulpecula’s eyes, with the black only being legible when he squinted. It took him a prolong moment to find the beverages, and when he did, he decided quick on the pumpkin spice cappuccino.

The head detective’s information regarding the case was far from informative, a name and the simple fact she was taken during her shift. It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but Detective 101 told The Fox that the first thing to do was interview the employees and find any information about Alyssa Wallace, any known affiliations. Urgway was a shady place and, for many, it was difficult to keep oneself from butting heads with the wrong people.

The Fox Detective tapped his fingernails on the wooden table and leaned back. The unsteady crackling sound of the not-so-sturdy chair beneath him suggested it was better for him to stay still, which was a difficult task for him. He fidgeted with the fur on his chin, the fatigue was occasionally difficult to fight off, but it was better than the fear itself.

The fear is what kept him up at night, but the deprivation itself could be therapeutic. The feelings of exhaustion swayed his mind and made it easy to repress the bad thoughts, but, with the assistance of caffeine, he was able to wire himself and narrow his focuses on more remote and distant matters. It wasn’t the healthiest of solutions and, some part of knew it wasn’t maintainable, but the part calling the shots only cared about his own survival. The part calling the shots had a lot riding on the Marybeth Police Department and needed for this to work and for him to get better and functioning again. But, most importantly, what the one calling the shots needed right now was a cup of coffee.

Robbie Smith was with Vulpecula in a matter of minutes, the nervousness about his demeanor made it obvious he wasn’t very likely to have been a manager or high-up at the diner. From his youthful face, The Fox Detective might have even expected to find that Robbie hadn’t been working at Buddy’s Diner for very long at all. He looked to be about in the same age group as Alyssa Wallace also, it was possible they could have been acquaintances.

Smith was gracious and almost aggressive when greeting The Fox, nodding his head more often than a bobble-head. The handshake he gave next was sweaty and a little too tight. Vulpecula smiled, he knew a thing or two about social awkwardness. In a selfish way, it felt nice to be the more comfortable person in a conversation for a change.

A type of monkey, Robbie Smith wore a dark undershirt with a tie and vest to match. His attire seemed a smidgen overzealous for an area laid-back like Buddy’s Diner seemed to be and with the way that Talia had been dressed, it implied Robbie’s outfit was a personal choice and not him abiding some sort of dress code.

“Vulpecula Noel, I’ve heard so much about you, or, well, …” Robbie stammered for a second over his words, stopping as if he was trying to recalculate.

“My father,” Vulpecula countered weakly, he looked over to the panda tending to other customers and hoped she’d come by and ask him if he wanted a coffee. Because, he did. Just didn’t have the assertive strength to muster courage in asking for one himself.

“He did some good things, your father,” Robbie said.

“He certainly did some things,” The Fox replied, then, leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. For no other reason other than comfort and the need to sleep. “What can you tell me about Alyssa Wallace?”

“Oh, Alyssa’s great! So nice!” Robbie answered, concurring with a sentiment that V hadn’t expressed. “Is something wrong? Nothing’s wrong is there? Did something happen?”

The Fox Detective stared at him blankly, something struck him as odd about Robbie’s delivery, there was something peculiar about it that his fatigued brain couldn’t fully wrap its head around. Vulpecula sighed, letting a breath escape him. He made note of it in the blank chalkboard in his head, though, foggy as it was, he had no way of knowing if it’d still be there when he went to look.

“Alyssa has been kidnapped,” V answered plainly. “I don’t have a whole lot of information to go on and I was hoping that you would be able to help me. Alyssa went missing during her shift on Tuesday.  First and foremost, can I ask whether you were working with her that day, whether you noticed anything strange about her behavior, things that struck you as odd?”

“Yeah, I almost always work with Alyssa, almost always, been that way for the last few years or so, definitely was working with her on Tuesday! I trained her, you know!? She disappeared about midway through her shift, but I didn’t really think anything of it. I just figured she was coming down with something, the weather has been awfully rainy as I’m sure you’ve noticed. You’re telling me she has been kidnapped though?” Robbie Smith feigned shock at the fact.

Feigned shock? Why had Vulpecula thought that to himself? What reason did he have to believe Robbie was lying to him? V took in another breath and let it leave him.

“You didn’t notice anything strange at all about how she was acting? Could there have, perhaps, been a customer with suspicious behavior, the slightest thing that sticks out in your mind?”

As Vulpecula spoke, he felt his phone vibrate, only a handful of people could be messaging him. Lacerta or Apus to make certain he’d kept from offing himself, or Bartender Red to make sure he’d come to get wasted when night time rolled around.

“Odd behavior,” Robbie rubbed his chin in a theatrical manner that, unless V was grasping at straws, deeply confessed his guilt. “I actually did see what person that struck me a little bit as odd, but I didn’t think anything about it at the time. A dog staring at her from across the room, he spent a lot of the night there, just sipping on coffee, staring at Alyssa.”

Vulpecula’s ears pricked at the mention. “A dog, what kind of dog, did you happen to catch his name, who waited on him?”

Robbie shook his head, putting his hand up, waving off the idea for some reason. “The gentleman ordered a cup of coffee and looked on at Alyssa from afar. I waited on him. He had black and brown fur. Seemed … nice? Though, he didn’t really say much.”

The first instinct that The Fox Detective had was that he was talking about Urgway’s head detective, that S.C. had been sipping coffee at Buddy’s Diner in the very same moments as Alyssa’s disappearance. That was speculative at best, however. Urgway was one of the few major cities where canines outnumbered everyone else. The fact it was a dog with black and brown fur was far from damning evidence either. That wasn’t an uncommon shade for a dog to have, as a matter of fact, the dog on the logo of Buddy’s Diner had the same colored fur as detailed. That spectacle offered another angle as well. Was Robbie Smith lying to him? Was he describing the description of the dog from the restaurant’s sign out of desperation?

“You didn’t happen to catch his name, then?” Vulpecula asked, his eyelids felt heavy, but he fought his urges. “I need coffee.”

Robbie Smith shook his head, his eyes widening with a sense of urgency as if V being caffeinated was a matter of life or death. Shortly after, he returned with a cup of black coffee that V didn’t have it in him to be picky about. Vulpecula smiled in a weak, but polite way, then, took sips of the black, bitter liquid.

“I didn’t catch his name,” Robbie said. “But I do know that about the time Alyssa disappeared, the black and brown dog was nowhere to be found.”

“Were you and Alyssa the only ones working at the Diner that day? Is there anyone else I can talk to about this, someone who will second your story?” Vulpecula asked, he heard an individual walking into the diner and felt unease at the fact.

He fidgeted more with the fur on his chin and, then, took a sip of his coffee.

“The Diner’s usually short-staffed, it doesn’t usually get a lot of customers throughout the day, two is usually all we get. I’ve opened alone a couple of times too.” Robbie Smith said.

“Is there anything else useful you can tell me about Alyssa Wallace?”

Robbie let out a breath, “What can I say? There really isn’t all that much to tell. The girl goes to school after work, lives at home right now, seems pretty close with her family.”

“Do you happen to have an address for where she lives?”

“Let me check,” Robbie said, springing to his feet out from the chair awkwardly, accidentally scooting the table forward to where it shoved into The Fox Detective’s chest.

Vulpecula watched as Robbie Smith went behind the counter where a computer was located and began typing away on the keyboard. As he was distracted, The Fox Detective took a breath and walked over to Talia. Any form of confrontation wasn’t his strong-suit, but he believed the information was pertinent to finding Alyssa. Talia looked at him with big eyes.

“I need you to print off the schedule for the previous week. If you can’t do that, I need you to contact somebody that can. Do not ask Robbie or inform him of such.” Vulpecula instructed, trying his best to come across as assertive, he wasn’t certain if it came across as such though.

Talia nodded her head, looking over to Robbie Smith typing away at the computer.

“Wait until he leaves the computer,” Vulpecula said.

She did as she was told. Assisting customers around Buddy’s Diner until the very second that Robbie returned to Vulpecula.

“I wasn’t able to find her home address on the computer, thing’s a real dinosaur, I’m sure you understand,” He said, laughing nervously, “I was able to find the home phone-number, however.”

Vulpecula took the small index card from Robbie’s fingers, looking at the phone-number written down.

“This is a cellphone number,” Vulpecula commented.

“Yeah, well, who has home phones these days,” Robbie Smith said, shrugging it off.

“Thank you for your assistance, it has been beneficial,” Vulpecula said, looking over to Talia who was coming their way with a single piece of paper.

“No problem,” Robbie said, then, turned to Talia as she handed Vulpecula the piece of paper.

“This has the schedule for the last few weeks,” Talia said.

Vulpecula thanked her, though, he never took his eyes off Robbie Smith. He was expecting something, and he got it, a small flicker of fear painted itself over the monkey’s face that he tried to hide as soon as he could. But Vulpecula saw it. And, in that moment, The Fox Detective believed Smith knew whatever had happened to Alyssa Wallace and was most likely responsible for it.

 

4.

 

The Fox Detective made his leave from Buddy’s Diner, a mixture of feelings swished and swashed in his head. The first and foremost was about Robbie Smith, about the idea he might have played a part in or simply orchestrated Alyssa’s kidnapping. They were friends, that made matters more harrowing, the idea that a friend would kidnap someone.

The very thought of it clouded Vulpecula’s mind with vivid images. All the images were speculative in nature. V rubbed his eyelids, repressing the thoughts back down. Hallucinations would provide him with no help in his predicament, it got him no closer to finding Alyssa Wallace.

As he walked down the sidewalk, his fingers searched through the schedule, skimming until he found Tuesday’s date. The schedule had two separate shifts, one for the openers and one for the closers, Vulpecula was quick to find Robbie Smith’s name and Alyssa’s as well. True to his word, Robbie was the only person closing with Alyssa for the night’s end, and the only employee that was with her at the time of her disappearance. A capital “O” was written beside Alyssa’s name that meant nothing to The Fox. Did the circle signify that she was absent for a portion of that day?

Vulpecula reached for the phone out from his pocket, holding the small index card in his paw. He fiddled with the phone for a moment. The devices weren’t his specialty, in mere clicks, he would often find himself dialing someone or downloading an app for a product he had never even heard of. Apus had left him several text messages, as had Lacerta.

“You said you were looking for Alyssa Wallace?” A voice called out in a shouting whisper.

Vulpecula flinched badly from it. He startled easily, especially when he allowed himself to go too deep in thought. At once, his eyes wandered over to the woman who was speaking, a greyish husky with bright blue eyes. She waved him down from inside an alleyway between Buddy’s Diner and some other wore down storage space building, of which, Urgway had a lot of. The Fox Detective looked at her sternly, his paranoia had far from been forgotten.

This woman was a mad scientist, one that had found way to dye her fur and change her species of dog. This woman kidnapped Alyssa Wallace and would likely to the same to him. For what? For own experimental gain, could she have been attempting to splice together animals in hopes of creating a conglomeration of them all, a monster!?

Or, at least, that’s what V’s overzealous imagination was telling him. He took in a breath and let it out, trying to keep from losing focus, trying to keep himself stable. All the same though, he shook his head at the husky, because he knew there was no chance whatsoever, he’d be joining her in the alley space.

The woman offered an audible groan in turn, then, stepped out from the alleyway, walking over to Vulpecula.

“What do you know about Alyssa Wallace and her disappearance?” Vulpecula asked.

“I know that Robbie Smith is not the man he comes off as,” she answered.

“That’s a relief, I thought he was the kidnapper,” Vulpecula jested, albeit, dryly.

The woman stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, then, straightened her disposition, “That’s exactly right! I went to school with Robbie Smith, Smith was always quiet and awkward, abnormal, like he didn’t belong in his own skin.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d ever feel the need to wear someone elses’,” Vulpecula joked, though, then, he stopped, a shudder of discomfort at himself.

He thought for a moment about what could have been happening to Alyssa every second he didn’t find her. The worst of the worst, he imagined her malnourished, scrawny and looking around mindlessly inside a cramped area; imprisoned. Then again, it was unlikely she’d already be that badly malnourished after only a couple of days. Still, heavy thoughts flurried about in his head, so much so that he could feel his paws shaking and feel a nauseous feeling at the pit of his stomach.

The woman snapped her fingers in-front of Vulpecula, in due time, the act broke him out of his trance.

“Just because he’s quiet or awkward doesn’t mean he is violent or even potentially dangerous, the same could be said about me, and I am neither,” Vulpecula explained, hoping he wasn’t potentially dangerous.

“Did you hear what I said?” The woman asked, then, repeated it, “Robbie Smith has a record from when he was younger, I’m telling you that the guy is bad news! He was arrested for holding a young woman as his hostage!”

“Oh,” Vulpecula replied grimly, a cold chill went up his spine. “Do you have any other reason for this? Anything else to go on that will help me receive a warrant to search this guy’s home? Does Buddy’s Diner have any security cameras, anywhere in the building at all?”

“No,” The woman answered. “Buddy’s Diner is a family run restaurant and can barely afford to stay afloat, let alone luxuries like that.”

“I’ll look into it,” Vulpecula said. “Thank you for the information.”

The woman nodded back, walking away from Vulpecula in a hurry thereafter.

If Robbie Smith was the last person to see Alyssa Wallace before her disappearance, that, along with his record, it might have been enough evidence to justify a warrant. Actually, if his previous record of false imprisonment resulted in a felony, according to Urgway law, his home could be searched without the need of a warrant.

Vulpecula Noel looked down at his phone, wishing that he had the head detective’s phone number to provide the information he’d gathered to him. Beggars can’t be choosers though, he supposed. Still, every second that Alyssa Wallace was being kept in God knows where was more than V had the stomach to tolerate.

 

5.

 

Vulpecula sat in his empty desk, swiveling around in the uncomfortable computer chair. Psittacus hadn’t been there to engage him, and, because that, the Marybeth Police Station was mostly one big vacant building that carried nothing with it except old, dusty files and the mildew smell of a building much beyond its prime and expiration date.

Looking around the building, in a doorway along the hall, he saw a room marked as the Interrogation Room. V wondered how many criminals had been in that building throughout the years, he imagined sharing the room with a serial killer. Would it feel any different than sharing the room with anybody else? Did such monstrous of men carry an aura of depravity or the odor of cruelty? Or was everyone the same, driving on the same pathway, and the ones being interrogated were the ones that decided to turn left for the scenic route? Vulpecula sighed, the scenic route was a morbid thought. He imagined blood on the walls and a body lining the carpet. Did he really have the strength in him to be a detective for the Marybeth Police Department? Truth is, it didn’t matter, Alyssa needed to be found and it was his responsibility to see to it that she was.

Vulpecula took out his phone once again, punching in the number he had been given. It was a very short delay before someone answered.

“Hello,” a female’s voice called out.

“Hello, Mrs. Wallace, this is Detective Vulpecula Noel from the Marybeth Police Department, I am calling in concerns to the disappearance of your daughter.” Vulpecula explained, fidgeting and bending the index card between his fingers.

“Ah, yes, Detective Barker said that I should expect your call,” The voice answered at once.

Vulpecula let that fact sink in for a short moment. Of course, the mutt knew he’d need to contact Alyssa’s family, but refused to do him the courtesy of giving him a phone number. He called him a mutt because Urgway’s head detective was no longer even worthy of initials.

“I was wondering whether you could tell me anything about Alyssa Wallace. The company she keeps, enemies she might have, anything at all that might pertain to helping to find her.” He asked.

“Alyssa has always been good about keeping her nose clean, never gets into any kind of trouble,” The woman stopped and sniffled.

“Take your time,” Vulpecula assured, empathizing with what the woman must have been going through, not knowing the whereabouts of her daughter.

“Thank you,” The woman said. “I can’t really think of anyone that would be out to get her. I do remember she had been seeing one boy though, he knocked on her door every day, she said she knew him from work. She said that the boy fancied her, but that she couldn’t reciprocate those feelings in return. I believe the boy’s name was Rob or Robert, though, I can’t be for certain.”

Vulpecula nodded to show he understood, though, in-retrospect, nodding at a phone-call really served no purpose.

“I think the person you’re talking about is a man named Robbie Smith, he works at Buddy’s Diner and was the last person to see Alyssa before her disappearance.” Vulpecula explained. “I will bring the information I’ve gathered forward and see about getting a warrant to search Smith’s home.”

“You’re so caring, thank you so much for the effort you’re putting into trying to find my daughter,” The woman answered back, her pitch switched from its raspier tone to something more high-pitched.

It seemed clear to The Fox Detective that her emotions were becoming increasingly difficult not to sprinkle into her dialogue.

“I will do whatever it takes to find your daughter. I will provide it my complete and total attention, Mrs. Wallace. Thank you very much for your assistance in helping me do so.”

They exchanged pleasantries and, like that, Vulpecula found himself, once more, sitting in silence inside the police station. All the information provided to him made it seem very cut-and-dry that Robbie Smith was the best suspect they had. The Fox Detective sensed he was lying the very minute their exchanges began. An old classmate spoke negatively on his behalf, providing a character witness. Mrs. Wallace directly connecting a relationship with Alyssa and Robbie outside the work-place was a cherry on top it all. A previous record of false imprisonment and the fact he was the last person to see Alyssa Wallace before her disappearance were almost enough alone to make him the prime suspect.

Vulpecula stood up from his chair. He’d contact Detective Psittacus, see about getting a judge to issue a warrant. V let out a breath, he felt a moment of pride for himself about being able to maintain composure long enough to potentially save a young girl’s life. That made the toll everything took seem worth it.

V headed toward the Station’s exit, it was at that moment he heard a phone call, not a text, make itself known. He answered, expecting to find that Mrs. Wallace had more information to add about the case.

“Hello, Detective Vulpecula Noel speaking,” He said, continuing his way out from the building.

“Hi, it’s Zoey, Detective Barker’s assistant, he wants to see you, says he wants to touch-base with you about your progress on the case.”

Sure enough, it was Zoey, with her sweet voice, talking on the other end.

“Tell him I am at a breakthrough with the case and I don’t really have time to touch-base about it.” The Detective said, walking out from the station as he saw Psittacus’ vehicle pull in.

“Oh, Barker insists that you do, he’s beside me right now.”

“If he’s beside you, why not just let me talk to him?”

A pause happened on the other end. “Barker says that’s what the help is for.”

 

6.

 

Vulpecula was far from smiles arriving at the mutt’s office, the arduous elevator ride felt wrong on so many levels. (No pun intended) The fact that the whole ride out to the major city of Urgway only ate more and more into the small window they had of finding Alyssa was not lost on him. The Fox Detective fidgeted with the fur on his chin, a feeling of angst and unease set in that pierced through his thinly veiled flesh with each second. If something were to happen to Alyssa in this time, he knew that he would never be able to forgive himself.

Vulpecula walked into the head detective’s office and found it hadn’t changed very much from how he left it. One thing in-particular that still wasn’t in the room was the head detective himself. A volt of urgency dug its nails down V’s spine at that fact, simply put, he knew he didn’t have time for whatever the mutt had in mind for him.

Nevertheless, he had a seat in the chair before the desk, looking into the mirror across from him. The swollen bags under his eyes showed just how much sleep he had deprived himself of.

Seconds went to minutes, and before long, it had been a full hour he’d been waiting inside the stupid mutt’s office. The stupid mutt was going to get that woman killed.

Vulpecula felt his phone vibrate a second time, this time was a text message, however. He took his phone out and did his best at figuring out how to open the folder where the text messages were kept, but, of course, he failed. Instead, he found himself opening the browser instead. Looking back at him was Alyssa Wallace’s profile page, a smiling photograph of the young girl stared at him.

He smiled back, albeit weakly. A hallow feeling of shame and sadness feeling his chest, he used his finger to scroll down, unable to look at the face he failed. But, then, something caught his attention. For her occupation, it listed she worked at Buddy’s Diner. It listed that she started three days ago.

Vulpecula stared at that for a second in confusion. Then, a second thought occurred to him. Robbie Smith claimed he trained Alyssa, could the “O” written by her name on the schedule stood for “Orientation”? But Robbie also said he had worked with Alyssa for the last year.

V looked around the dog’s office, in his head, he saw the blank chalkboard before him, projected like a screen in front of him. The woman he’d spoke to outside of Buddy’s Diner, a classmate of Robbie Smith. It seemed coincidental that she’d be in the neighborhood at the exact moment and have the exact information to suggest Robbie Smith was dangerous. And, his crime happened when he was a minor, which meant that his name would be kept out from newspapers and that Vulpecula wouldn’t be able to investigate using a search engine.

Robbie Smith came off as though he was lying to Vulpecula but could the truth behind it have been something different?

Alyssa’s mother said she had expected V’s call. The Fox Detective sprung out from the chair, staring over at the elevator, then, staring at the phone on the desk. He punched in the phone-number as fast as he could, his hands shook so badly that he failed the first time and had to try again.

The phone rang once, then, twice, then, a third, then: “Hi, you’ve reached Alyssa Wallace. I am unable to come to the phone right now.”

Vulpecula dropped the phone on the desk. The woman he had talked to only hours ago had been Alyssa herself. The voice on the other end wasn’t becoming higher pitch because emotional turmoil, but, rather, strained because she was trying to put on the facade of a raspy middle-aged woman.

All of them had been in cahoots with one another. But, why? This wasn’t the first feigned kidnapping case that V had dealt with. An earlier case of his involved a woman faking her kidnapping to initiate herself into the Magnets, a traveling troupe of magicians and stage-performers. Was that what this was? Was Alyssa Wallace trying to fake her own disappearance? That didn’t seem like what this was.

If Vulpecula had been officially appointed as part of the Marybeth Police Department, he would have had the means to run the phone-number to see who belonged to, he would have been able to pull old files to see if Robbie Smith really had a record as a minor. They had to have known that he didn’t have these resources.

“Detective Barker said that I should expect your call.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Detective Sanec C. Barker stepped fourth holding a cup of coffee in his hands.

“It was you,” Vulpecula said, at once, unable to contain himself. “You told Alyssa I would call her phone and she knew when that number called, she needed to impersonate her mother. You orchestrated an entire crime meant to make Robbie Smith appear as though he kidnapped her. You knew that Smith was socially awkward and that he couldn’t lie convincingly, and thereby, you used it as part of your narrative, painting the picture of a by-the-books criminal. You had a woman ready for when I left Buddy’s Diner meant to drill home the idea that Smith was bad news. You, you,” Vulpecula stopped for a moment, head racing fast, “You gave me a hint! You specifically told Robbie to say that a brown and black furred dog was the Diner as well, knowing I’d likely pass it off as a lie on his part. You orchestrated an entire case for a crime scene that never happened!”

Detective Barker stared at Vulpecula with a blank stare, then, took a sip of his coffee. An arrogant smirk appeared next, Barker walked from the elevator to his desk. Looking in the mirror, he adjusted his collar, then, turned to Vulpecula. He looked down at the phone on his desk that was off the receiver and hung it up properly. Opening a drawer of his desk, Barker held something in his hands and slid it to the other-side of the desk in-front of Vulpecula.

Detective Barker walked away from his desk and back to the elevator, hitting one of the buttons. The final shot before the elevator door closed was of Barker taking another sip from his coffee cup.

Vulpecula looked on the desk and saw the police badge staring back at him.

Detective Vulpecula of the Marybeth Police Department sighed.