Pretty Little Things

Bobby said nothing. The whoops and hollers from the skateboard contest filled the strained silence. ‘Look, you brief the guy if you want to,’ he replied finally. ‘I already know he’s a fuck-up and I don’t want him in here.’ Then he turned his attention back to the screen.

Zo let out a slow breath. ‘Whatever. I’ll meet you outside when you’re done.’

After Zo walked out, Bobby leaned back in the desk chair and rubbed his tired eyes.

Not all of them. I don’t bring them all home, Zo. And that’s the problem. That’s why I don’t sleep any more. I don’t bring them all home and we both know it …

He flipped open his cell and dialed.

‘Missing Children Information Clearinghouse. Travis Hall.’

‘Hey there, Travis, it’s Bobby Dees down in Miami.’

‘Hey, Agent Dees. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I thought you wasn’t working these cases no more, after, you know, well, after what, um, happened …’ Travis’s voice had slowed and stumbled off, like he’d just gotten the memo that it wasn’t such a hot idea to be saying what he was saying.

‘Don’t believe everything you hear, Travis.’ Bobby sat up. ‘I’m still alive and well down here in the Conch Republic.’

‘Glad to hear it. You doing OK, Bobby?’

Bobby ignored that question, because any idiot with half a brain and knowledge of the hell he’d been through the past year wouldn’t have asked it in the first place. ‘Listen, Travis,’ he said dismissively, fingering the two pictures of Elaine Emerson he had printed out on the desk. Before and After. The Geek and the Lolita. Stretch or not, he’d learned over the years to listen to his gut. It was the one partner that never let him down. ‘I’m gonna need you to put out a Missing Child Alert on one Elaine Louise Emerson. White female, date of birth 8/27/96 …’

17 (#ulink_d8000fe5-3264-5aa0-bc09-79d2575c94a9)

‘So you don’t have any idea where she might be?’ Bobby asked the skinny girl with the mop of wet, dark blonde curls. Just past the sky-blue foyer where he stood, an arched entryway led into the home’s kitchen. Plastic grocery bags were piled on the countertop and he could see something was boiling on the stove. The house smelled like meatloaf and onions.

‘Nuh-uh,’ the teen replied, rubbing her head with a Scooby-Doo beach towel. The mirror image standing next to her in the same exact bathing suit and shorts just shook her head.

‘Her mother called here last night at almost eleven o’clock looking for her,’ Mrs Weber added with a frown. ‘I told Debbie I didn’t think the girls had seen Elaine in a couple of weeks. They were at their dad’s all weekend and they had a swim meet this morning. They just got home.’ She rubbed the shoulders of either Melissa or Erica. Bobby couldn’t tell the difference. ‘Do you think she ran away? Is that it?’

‘Do you think that might be the case?’ Bobby countered.

Mrs Weber shrugged. ‘Elaine’s mother parents differently than me, let’s just say that. Her older sister is a mess, you know. A mess. Drugs and boys. That’s why I don’t like the girls over there. There’s no supervision. Elaine is very sweet, but …’