Young Writers Society

It was late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. He was a large, serious man, dressed in a gloomy black suit and tie, gripping on to a cup of coffee. On the floor near his foot stood a large, sophisticated briefcase, home to the papers relating to the only thing he cared about in the world: Lauren, his thirty-four-year-old daughter who had gone missing. A small-town mystery of where Mrs. Lauren Beales could’ve disappeared to. Left in the shattered aftermath of her disappearance, Thomas Mildred was willing to do whatever it took to locate Lauren; no matter how taxing or gruesome. Thomas flipped through a few pages he had laid out in front of him until he was interrupted by the jarring voice of a young woman,

“Sir, are ya gonna be goin’ soon? We close in fifteen minutes.” As an old man of seventy-four, his mind moved slowly and his body even slower. The one situation that would have his mind racing was in any conversation about Lauren; his mind would be going a million miles a minute trying to figure out anything about her, and he was always trying to find out the same thing: where she went. For a minute, the waitress reminded him of his daughter, and his mind was consumed with more thoughts of Lauren and the hope that she’s still out there somewhere, which statistically, was unlikely to be the case, considering how long she’d been missing for. He stared at her for a second longer, “Sir? Can ya hear me? You gotta go.” Thomas snapped out of his daze and stiffened his body,

“Yes ma’am, I am on my way out now. You have a good night.” He gathered his belongings, piecing together papers and official documents until they were safe at home in his briefcase, and began to shuffle out of the cafe. Drained of energy from stringing together fragments of the situation in his mind, he hailed a familiar yellow taxi and slept on the ride home.

After the disappearance of Lauren, Thomas’s house was no longer his. It had been taken over by newspaper clippings, private documents from private investigators that he spent unspeakable amounts of money on. The old yellow house on Fern Street had become the house of a madman over the last few months. Thomas settled into the brown, old, and cracking armchair that he had been glued to for months. The house was completely dark and silent, with the mere sounds of the house settling beneath him. Cutting through that suffocating silence was the sound of Thomas’s house phone ringing; a loud sound that Thomas would always immediately answer, just in case the person on the other end was calling about his beloved Lauren. Springing out of the armchair, one of the only times Thomas moved quickly, he picked up the phone, “Thomas Mildred speaking,” he said with a hint of hopefulness in his voice. A gruff voice on the other end replied,

“Mr. Mildred, hello. This is Detective Renald, I was just uh-, callin-” Panicked, Thomas cut off the man on the other end to interject,

“Have you found her?” Uncomfortable silence on both ends consumed the conversation. Detective Renald let out a deep sigh.

“No sir, I was just uh... calling to let you know that we’ve decided to close the case on uh… Lauren Beal-” Thomas didn’t let him finish his sentence; he slammed the phone back onto the holder. In a fit of rage, he knocked everything off of the table next to him, various items clanging loudly onto the wooden floor. Silence filled the air once again; Thomas laid down in the middle of the living room floor, breathing heavily. He laid and listened to the phone beeping off the hook after he threw it off the table. Thomas didn’t know what was next; so he just laid and listened to his breathing until he drifted off into an unpeaceful, disturbed sleep.

The next morning, he awoke to twenty-seven missed calls from John Beales; Lauren’s husband. John had also received the call that Thomas had the previous night. Texts from John glared back at Thomas related to the only thing anyone would talk about: Lauren. Thomas ignored them and did the only thing that he knew to do next: walk.

He wandered outside and into the small city, and ended up back inside the cafe where he had spent the previous night. On the TV, a news channel blared:

‘Missing persons' case pertaining to the disappearance of Lauren Beales has been closed; police say there is just not enough evidence to continue their long investigation. Sources say the case has been open for a total of two and a half months, but there was not a single sturdy lead in the entirety of those two months. That’s all the information released on Lauren Beales as of now. Now back to Jennifer on News 12.’

A picture of Lauren and her two kids, Lucas and Marissa, flashed on the screen, adding salt to the open wound of the family. Thomas stared at the TV even after the news section on Lauren had ended, pondering. He was scanning over the features of her face, although he had already done that with all of the pictures he had of her in his house now. She had beautiful red hair and bright blue eyes, and Thomas would give anything to see her and her red hair again. All he could hear was the murmuring of nearby customers and cars whizzing by the open window. He had his own silence, and that was the only thing he was focused on. Once again, blaring through the fairly quiet and relaxed cafe, was the loud ring of his phone from an unknown number. Of course, he had to answer in case it was related to Lauren,

“Hello?” All he could hear on the other end of the line was laughing; twisted and maniacal laughing, like that of a movie villain.

“Who is this?” Thomas demanded worriedly.

“She’s not missing.” Thomas had no words and he just sat there with a blank expression on his face. “She’s right here.” The world seemed to go completely silent when Thomas heard those words. His world stopped for just a minute; people were stuck in the position they were, all noise was drowned out. Then, all at once, the world came back, too loud and too much all at once.

“Where is she? What do you mean?” Thomas’s frantic voice resonated throughout the cafe, drawing the attention of a few other customers, but of course he didn’t notice.

“It’s a secret, I can’t tell you,” followed by more disturbing laughter. Thomas was infuriated; whoever he was speaking to was treating the life of his daughter like it was some funny joke or a schoolboy prank. Unsure of what the next step for him was, and how he could gain the password to the big secret of where Lauren was, he replied,

“I-I’ll get the police. Then you’re really done for. You think this is funny?” All the man on the other side replied with was more of that haunted laughter that was seared into Thomas’s memory.

“Tommy, the police can’t hurt us.” Thomas had no idea what that meant, as it was such a strange thing for the man to say, as if he was above the law.

“I have money. H-how much do you want? Whatever you want, I-I’ll do it.” Thomas’s hands were shaking due to the sheer terror of messing up and ruining things for Lauren. There was a long choking silence over the phone as if the man was contemplating his next move.

“$50,000. Cash. You’ll meet us at the pier tomorrow, three pm sharp. Alone. Then we’ll consider what to do about Lauren. We know you’re smart enough to know not to involve the police, but just to warn you so the message really settles in” The man said mockingly, treating Thomas as if he were a child. “If you get the police involved, Lauren won’t have such a happy ending.” The man hung up and Thomas just sat there for a second, questioning if that was a real event that just happened or was some vivid hallucination he had crafted in his mind. The rational thing to do would be to wonder about the validity of the situation; wondering if the whole thing was a cruel prank or reality. Out of options, Thomas chose to believe the latter. This was the closest he had gotten to any sort of lead in months. Of course, Thomas had questions; why Lauren? Why would they choose to contact him now? Thomas shoved those thoughts out of his mind, grateful that the man had chosen to contact him at all and hopefully bring him one step closer to bringing Lauren home. This was the closest they had gotten to finding his daughter so far, and he was willing to take any risk, including that risk of losing $50,000. Thomas felt the most lost in his life when he should have felt the most found. He was in a daze as he stumbled out of the cafe and made his way to the bank. The conversation droned over and over in his mind, beating like a drum.

He retrieved the money from the bank and made his way home. Once he settled into his comfortable armchair, home at last, he received another call. Startled, he wearily picked up the phone.

“You got it, right? Bring the $50,000 or the deal is off.” Thomas’s breath caught in his throat; talking to his man, even for a second, was like walking through fire.

“Yes. I’ll bring it. And you’ll bring Lauren, right?” A loud breath was let out by this mystery man.

“Maybe. It’s a surprise.” Click. He hung up, leaving Thomas to sit and wait. And so he did, for hours upon hours, until he saw the sun rising, indicating the start of the next day already. Thomas sat for a little longer, hoping for three o’clock to come, but also hoping not at the same time. He didn’t want to deal with this situation, but this was the set of cards life dealt to him; he could either play or die. Even though today would be the day that changes his life forever (or so he hoped), he decided to continue his daily tradition of heading to the local cafe for breakfast and coffee. Strolling through the street, the severity of this situation hit him. He was going to see Lauren for the first time in months; he knew it could go horribly, but he chose to stay optimistic about the outcomes, because without optimism, what else would he do? No matter what he thought of the situation, ultimately he knew he had to go through with it. He looked at his watch. 11 am. To face this head-on, Thomas decided to go to the pier now and wait. And wait for hours until the clock struck 3. It didn’t matter to him. After taxi rides and walking, he arrived at the piers. He looked at his watch once again. 12:57 pm.

Sitting on a bench with his briefcase in hand that, unbeknownst to others, held $50,000 in cash, he sat back and hoped for a positive outcome. Maybe deep down inside, he knew there’d be a negative outcome. But he could shove that down inside long enough to finish this ordeal with a sliver of hope still remaining. Soon enough, after two hours of sitting, thinking, and hoping, 3 pm had arrived. Rrrring.

Directly on cue, Thomas’s phone rang. He picked up immediately and was greeted with an abrupt, “Are you there?”. Thomas looked around trying to figure out who was on the phone and who he could be talking to.

“Yes, of course. I’m at the pier. Where are you?” No answer yet. “I have the money.”

“I’ve sent a friend of mine to collect the money. He’ll come to you, collect the money, and then we’ll call you and update you on the Lauren situation.” I knew it, Thomas thought. It was a setup.

“No… no, you were supposed to bring her.” Laughter arose from the phone.

“I never said that. I said I’d think about it. You giving the money definitely does make my final choice more in favor of Lauren, so your best bet is to just give my friend the money.” Thomas’s mind was racing. His first instinct was to give the money, and he trusted that instinct.

“Okay… uh, yeah. I will, if it’ll give Lauren a better chance.”

“Yup, definitely will.” Click. He hung up. A man rushed over to Thomas attempting to take the briefcase. Thomas looked at the unfamiliar face and the man made a face back at him, indicating that they were both in on the same plan. He let the briefcase go and the man walked off into the crowd of people, where Thomas was unable to find him again. That was it. He just gave $50,000 away for the return of Lauren, and Lauren was nowhere to be seen. Thomas crumpled to the floor in the middle of the wooden pier and sat there for a long while. Lost and confused about what had just happened, he wandered home slowly and placed himself into a cab to make his way back into his house. He made it home and went to sleep, hoping he would wake up and realize it was all just a terrible nightmare.

This wasn’t the case. He didn’t wake up from some terrible nightmare. He was still living in it, and couldn’t escape it. He rolled over to look on the nightstand where his landline was. There were an alarming thirty-seven missed calls from the number of the man. Thomas’s whole world began to stop again, as he attempted to call the number back. He attempted to call the number back multiple times from every phone he owned. Every time, without fail, the same message was relayed back to him, We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again. Thomas had no idea what this could have possibly meant. He had just lost his only possible contact with Lauren. Forget the money, it didn’t matter to him. Thomas tried throughout the rest of the day to call the number, over and over and over until he had memorized the automated message. At around 5 pm that day, he received a call he wasn’t expecting. It was from Detective Renald. This caused Thomas’s brain to go into overload and panic mode. First, the phone was disconnected. Then, Detective Renald wanted to speak to him. It couldn’t have been a coincidence; it was all too much. He picked the phone up,

“Hello? What happened?” He couldn’t even wait for a response from Detective Renald.

“Hello, Mr. Madrid. I’m not intending to worry you, as it may be nothing but-”

“Oh, get on with it Renald. Have you found her?” Thomas wanted none of his courtesies and niceties; he just wanted to know what was happening. He was so nervous he could feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. He just had an overall bad feeling about this phone call.

“Yes, ah, we may have found a body. I’m on my way to the scene now. We don’t have any confirmation that it’s her, but the body matches her description. I’m heading to the pier no-” When Thomas heard that the location of the body was the pier, he just knew it was her. He had this bad feeling, and he quickly and frantically put the phone down and threw his shoes on. He got into his car and sped all the way to the pier, doing fifty in a twenty-five, only caring about Lauren. When he arrived at the piers, he barely parked. He left his car running, not even in a parking spot, and ran toward the crime scene. All the lights of the cop cars and the sound of the curious crowd near the pier were overwhelming. Thomas pushed past everyone and everything in his way until he saw Detective Renald. He had a somber expression on his face, which Thomas knew was not a good sign.

“Take me to her,” Thomas demanded, grabbing onto Detective Renald’s shoulders.

“Sir, just wait, I don’t think that’s a good-” Thomas walked away to survey the area and find where Lauren was, while Detective Renald attempted to follow behind him. He swerved out of the way of Renald and everyone else in his path, and eventually, he saw it. A white sheet laid out over a body on the floor of the pier. When he moved closer, he could see a little bit of red hair peeking out from under the sheet. In his hysterics, he gently removed the sheet from the body before any police could get to him. Staring back at him was the deceased face of Lauren Beales, her red hair flowing behind her and her blue eyes wide open. He had finally found Lauren and saw her beautiful red hair and bright blue eyes again.