CHAPTER ONE
Under the vagrant white and densely turbulent sky, Tom hurried into the old rickety cab. For a moment, he thought it was too early to be out, but now he realized that the sun-kissed white cloud was already overcast. The old cabbie smelling of cheap tobacco tried to make conversation, but Tom was not having it. After the week he'd had, the last thing he needed was small talk. He was upset, even angry, that after all these years, his mom had relapsed and started drinking again despite her health issues. Recently, she seemed to be getting better, and Tom couldn't help but wonder if he had done something to trigger her relapse.
When he got the call that she had been hospitalized, it took him back to his childhood in Durham when she would show up drunk at parents/teachers' meetings, earning him the snide remarks and looks from classmates. Then, he was more of his parent than she was. Making sure the bills were paid when the power was cut with the meager wages he earned from Old Mike's restaurant, feeding on protein bars and scraps from neighbors when she forgot to buy groceries. He could understand why she went down a spiral; after all, he lost his father too, and there was always this empty void inside him. Every time he stayed back at home on bring your child to work day, it was a reminder of how things used to be and how much he had lost.
"We're here". The old cabbie grumbled in what seemed to be an imitation of an English accent, even though he was struggling with it. Tom never understood why people in this part of town tried so hard to be what they were not. He dropped his suitcase on the hard cobbled stone floor of the train station, looking for a map on the wall with information on when the next train would arrive. The chuff-chuff sound of the long string of giant metal cars rumbling answered his question. He tried not to release a breath of relief because the air felt thick with the stench of urine and vehicle exhaust moving in artistic swirls. It felt so good to go back to Philadelphia, this time around as a detective. Even though the letter could not have come at a worse time, he was thankful for the fact that years of hard work had finally paid off. His vision was fast becoming a reality. Saying he did not see the promotion coming would be a lie, but even then, he knew that as the only African American in his department, taking the exam was a long shot. The chief superintendent hated his guts and did not bother to hide it.
After nine long hours of listening to the train rumble and the distinct snoring of the old man sleeping beside him, he was finally here. Philadelphia is one of the ten loudest states in America; tourism is making it a crowded, densely populated, and noisy city. It was quite a contrast with Durham, where he grew up, which had a homely feel with a unique blend of culture. Tom missed the corn fritters Old Mike was popularly known for. Days of sneaking out to the back for a quick bite while Gustavo covered for him at the counter. He later got caught though and Old Mike made him work his ass to pay for every corn fritter he had ever stolen. It taught him a valuable lesson, though. Better to starve than to steal.
He decided to stop at the station to clear out his old desk and set up the new one, then come home for a long shower to wash the stench of the railway station off him. The yelling of dispatchers in the dispatch room was the first clue that something was up. Even on busy days, it was never this loud. "Nice of you to finally join us. Might have fooled me when you said you were coming back". Without turning around, he knew it was the chief. He could smell the minty breath of Clorets that Chief used to mask the smell of cigarettes. "I already mentioned in my letter that I was taking a week off for personal reasons, Sir". "Chief, we have a new case, missing baby at Green Land Avenue, I'm heading over there right now". It was Emily Foster coming out of the dispatcher's room. At 6'1, she towered over Chief Superintendent Robert McCall and was the same height as Tom. They both started at the same police academy, but he had not seen her since they graduated. "Good job, Emily. Take newbie over here and see what you can find out".
The ride was quiet, but the silence was a comfortable one. They did not move in the same circles back then, and he doubted that she would remember him. The police car stood in front of a house that could be seen from an uncomfortable distance. With picket fences and granite enforced walls, it was a series of rectangles that just did not know where to stop. It was quite similar to houses featured on Architecture Today, the popular TV show hosted by Billy Andrews. "Just so we are clear, I do the talking". Emily said. She proceeded to ring the bell and waited impatiently for someone to open it. Minutes stretched on for what seemed like hours, and Tom was about to ring the bell again when a young lady with blonde hair opened the door. "I'm so sorry, I was trying to clean up the mess, please come in, I'm Sarah". The interior was a huge difference from the exterior entirely. Paneled walls that were like nature's art in their deep, homely brown color, sand colored furniture, and diluted mustard throw pillows that were soothing to the eyes and soul. This was contemporary rustic style at its best and by no means cheap at all. Ignoring Emily's instruction before they entered the house, Tom introduced himself. "I'm detective Floyd, and this is my partner, detective Foster, would you mind telling us exactly what happened?". Emily gave him a warning look but she did not interrupt him. The newbie was not so bad after all. Instead she looked around the house for a clue on what might have happened. A house like this did not come cheap; perhaps someone took the baby for a ransom. "Last night, after I put Dahlia to sleep, my husband and I had a little argument, and he stormed out. I was a bit upset so I took an Ibuprofen and I went to bed. When I woke up this morning to feed her, she wasn't in her crib". "And what time was that exactly?" "I think around 7, I was not exactly looking at the clock".
Sarah seemed surprisingly calm while recounting what happened, but then Emily knew too well that people handle grief differently. "I'll take it from here, Detective Floyd," Emily countered at the same time Tom asked, "and where is your husband at the moment?" "Probably on a flight to Angola, that was why we argued last night, he wanted Dahlia and I to come with him". "Is there any way we can get in touch with him to confirm if he has the baby?" Sarah looked up, surprised like the thought had not occurred to her. "Mark doesn't have a phone. He thinks we spend time glued to our devices instead of experiencing the world. You don't think he took Dahlia, do you?'. "We are just trying to cover all the bases here Sarah." Emily replied in a monotonous tone. There was no need to get her worked up if it turned out to be a dead end. "What do you do, is there anyone you think would be after you for any reason?" "I was an attorney in Durham but after giving birth, I became a stay at home mom". It definitely explained the house and the expensive décor. "is there any disgruntled client that might be trying to settle some scores?". "Not at all, most of the cases I handled were pro bono, I was doing these people a favor, please excuse me". She stood up to get a bottle of water from the fridge. "Detectives, do you care for coffee, forgive my manners." Tom raised an eyebrow at the question. This might be his first day on the job but he just knew something did not feel right. "No thank you" they both replied at the same time. At least that was one thing they agreed on since they arrived at the Mitchell residence. "I insist, my mother raised me right". Emily stood up to help her carry the coffeepot; she understood how it felt to pretend to be strong in the presence of strangers, especially in circumstances like this. The sudden outburst from Sarah told her that was a bad idea. "Don't you dare touch me, you slimy creature. who do you think you are?" Sarah hissed. Tom had seen a lot of mood swings from his childhood days with his mom but nothing like this. It was like Sarah was someone else entirely. She kept screaming profanities at them, throwing cutleries and finally sent them out.
"What the hell just happened?"Tom cried out in disbelief. "I don't know, I offered to help her with the coffee pot and the next thing she started screaming". "Do you think we should tell chief about what happened?" "That's if she doesn't tell him first". They drove to the station, each of them wondering exactly what went down back there.