𝑨 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 - Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Your ball point pin pen scribbled against the blank piece of paper from your notepad. You heard deep, heavy footsteps approach you. Not having to glance up to know who it is, you open your mouth to speak.

"Detective Miller." You greeted, continuing to write.

"Ms. L/n." He greeted back, his eyes scanning over the bike that lied in the middle of crime scene tape. The bike belonged to non other than Billy. "I see your doing better."

As soon as those words left his mouth, his eyes trailed over your bandaged hand. You clear you throat, clearly dismissing where the detective's gaze is at. The detective's eyes snapped away from your wounded hand and back to the bike.

"So this was the last place Billy was seen before going missing?" You asked, placing the notepad and pen inside the pocket of Billy's jacket.

"Yeah." Detective Miller sighed, rubbing his sweaty forehead.

"I know for a fact that Griffin, Billy, and Vance's disappearances are all tied to each other somehow." You stated, looking down sorrowfully at the fallen bike. "At each of the crime scenes you and other enforcements saw black balloons, am I correct?"

Detective Miller nodded.

"I also think that a black van has to do something with this, for I saw a black van the day Griffin went missing. And had a dream of Billy being abducted by someone driving a black van. As for Vance, I don't know."

Saying Vance's name pained you as you remembered the last interaction you had with him, not knowing it'd may have been
the last. You take a deep breath in, adverting your thoughts.

Detective Miller's eyes slightly widen in admiration and slight surprise as he glanced towards your pondering gaze, before going back to his usual resting poker face. "That sounds like a new, valuable lead for this. The dream, I'm not so sure about though, Ms. L/n." You nodded to Detective Miller's words, feeling some doubt trace over inside of you.

"Yeah-" But you were cut off by loud, angry screaming. Your eyes landed onto a very angry looking man who was screaming at a familiar, golden haired dog. Billy's dog.

A woman, who you assume is his wife, was desperately trying to hold him back trying to calm him with soothing words as officers around him, too, try to calm him down.

"What is going on?" You mumbled, furrowing your brows in disapproval. "I'm going it to check it out."

Before letting Detective Miller spare any words you walk over to the eye widening scene. The dog was sitting down in front of the yelling man, cowering in obvious fear.

"What is going on?" You asked, standing next to an obviously distressed and tired officer.

"Mr. Showalter is clearly upset that his son's dog did not protect him. For the day Billy went missing, this poor ol' devil was with him." The officer sighed, looking sadly at the clearly distress creature, "Now he's threatening to shoot the poor devil."

You felt your breath hitch as your eyes landed back onto the scene. Taking a step forward, you descend towards the scared dog, kneeling next to him.

Mr. Showalter stopped screaming as he visibly slightly relaxed. His green eyes looked at you in curiosity.

"Mr. Showalter, we need you to calm down." You spoke softly letting the dog sniff your hand. The dog happily licked your hand, wagging it's fluffy tail.

Mr. Showalter's angry face reappeared. "Why in the hell would I do that?" He hissed, narrowing his eyes, "My son is fucking missing. And you want me to stay calm? Bullshit!"

You let out a sigh before standing back up, the dog close by your side. "Yes, you are angry. I get it." You spoke softly, trying to keep your patience in check.

You wrapped the jacket closer to your body as Mrs. Showalter let out a gasp.

"Is that my Billy's jacket?" She asked, tears forming into her hazel eyes that were the same as Billy's.

You nodded, confirming her suspicions. Mrs. Showalter let out a choked cry as she swept towards you, gently grabbing you by the shoulders.

"You knew my baby boy? Do you know where he is?" She asked, bombing you with many questions. You gently took her hands, holding them.

"I knew your son. He and I were very close. And I want to find him as much as you do." You replied gently, staring into her eyes.

"You're Y/n, aren't you?" She asked, her eyes gleaming. You nodded.

"Oh was my son so very fond of you. There wasn't a single day that would pass by where he wouldn't speak of you." Mrs. Showalter spoke, sadness glinting in her aging eyes. "I wish I'd meet you under different circumstances."

You felt a small, sad smile place itself onto your lips as you tried to prevent yourself from crying. "Here, Mrs. Showalter this is Billy's jacket. I think you should have it." You spoke, beginning to take the jacket off, but she stopped you.

"No dear. Keep it. He'd want the person he loves and is fond of most in this world to keep it." She spoke, shaking her head as her blonde locks shook.

You smiled before nodding, leaving the jacket to rest around you.

Mrs. Showalter smiled before pulling away, walking to her husband's side, whom was talking to an officer.

"Let's go dear." Mrs. Showalter spoke, placing a warm hand on her husband's arm. Her husband huffed.

"Well is sure in hell ain't bringing that filthy creature back home." He angrily spoke glaring down at the confused dog.

Mrs. Showalter sighed, clearly too tired to argue, yet her eyes worriedly glanced at her son's dog.

You spoke up.

"Don't worry, ma'am. I'll take care of Billy's dog." You reassured, petting the soft hair of the now happy dog.

Mrs. Showalter sent you a look of appreciation before walking away with Mr. Showalter. Once the weary married couple disappeared from view, you turned towards the dog.

"Now what am I going to tell dad?" You mumbled, glancing at the fluffy creature. The dog happily barked in response, wagging his tail.

End of Act Twenty-Seven