no body no crime

48 hours

Last night, I checked out the spy's last known location. A cafe called The Coffee House, a quaint little storefront on West 24th Street. Of course, at that point midnight had come and gone, and it was closed. Besides, I was exhausted. I got up early yesterday morning, about six o'clock, for classes. And I stayed up until three in the morning the night before, working on my essay for Professor Reynolds. Yeah. College.

Anyways, I knew there was nothing I would accomplish at one in the morning with no sleep, so I gave up eight hours of my forty eight to get some much needed rest.

I left my studio apartment at 8:30, The Coffee House's address plugged into my phone. I ran over the known information in my mind. There wasn't much. Last known location. Physical appearance. Name.

Adelina de Luca.

I looked her up and found no trace. I wasn't surprised, really. Y'know. Spy.

When I got to the cafe, the place overflowed with customers. I ducked inside and came face to back with the last person in line. I stepped around, trying to avoid the crowd, and found a small table along one wall. I took a seat and tried to plan my next move.

Adelina was here two days ago, around two o'clock in the afternoon. After that, she was never seen again.

My eyes scanned the room. I noticed security cameras set into each corner, a few extras at the register and covering possible blind spots. If they had footage, Adelina would be on the tapes.

Once the line shortened a bit I stood from my seat and approached the front counter. The college student behind the counter gave me a tired but bright smile. Her curly black hair was pulled into a pretty bun, her smile warm despite the fact she was overworked. (Aren't we all these days.)

"What can I get you?"

I offered a slight smile and rested my hands on the counter. "Actually, I was wondering if I could possibly speak with the manager?" I asked, trying to sound the least like a Karen as possible.

Her smile twisted as her head tilted to the side. "Um, sure. Is something wrong?"

I leaned closer, paranoia seeping in. "I'm trying to find... a close friend of mine. She's gone missing, but she was here a couple days ago. I noticed you had cameras? Please, just a quick look would be so helpful."

The cashier's expression changed to sympathy. "Oh, of course, I understand. I'll go get Mickey."

Before another word could leave my mouth, she hurried away. The guy behind me muttered something, and I glanced over my shoulder. He gave me a death glare.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong?" I asked innocently.

He grumbled. "Yeah. I gotta get to work and you're holden up the line."

I shrugged. "There's two registers. Make do."

He crinkled his nose before joining the second, much longer line. "All this for a cup o joe," he muttered as he walked away.

The cashier (her name was Talia) came back a moment later with a slightly older, red-headed man. He held out his hand over the counter.

"I'm Mickey, the manager. Talia says you could use my help?"

I shook his hand and offered a sad smile. "Please, I'm trying to find my friend. Could... could I take a quick look at your security footage? It wouldn't take long at all."

He nodded. "Of course. Follow me."

As I followed Mickey around the counter and through a door labeled "employees only" I noticed the man from earlier shoot me a dirty look.