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“Well, Detective Waters would be doing intake but she’s out until tomorrow afternoon on vacation so you’re up.” He crinkles the papers, shoving them into his pocket. “Once she’s back she’ll take over.”

I collect a notebook and pen, standing from my desk. “No problem.”

He nods and walks away with a whistle.

Approaching my destination, I spy Captain leaning against the interrogation room door. His thick legs are crossed, and he holds a cup of coffee and a donut, not doing much for our stereotype.

“You okay to take this? Not too busy with the murder case?”

Straightening my posture and righting my jacket I give him a confident smile. “I’ve got it, no problem.”

“Good luck.” Captain gives me a small smile and disappears around the corner.

Turning, I push open the door to reveal a stunning woman seated at the metal table. She looks up at me with teary brown eyes framed with thick lashes. Luscious black hair flows in a silky curtain down her back. Her makeup is flawless save for the black streaks of mascara running down her cheeks, not that it dulls her beauty. Dressed in a maroon sweater and dark jeans she could say she just got off the runway and I’d believe her. An intense energy emanates from her. It’s slightly intimidating and pressurized which is odd since her body language is so demure.

“Hi, my name’s Detective Brennan.” I ease into the room offering my hand. “What’s yours?”

She sniffles and takes mine in her respective dainty hand. “Genevieve.”

“I brought you some water if you’d like it.” I extend the glass, and she wraps elegant fingers around it to take it.

“Thank you.”

“Genevieve, I want to help you however I can. Do you feel comfortable telling me what brought you in, or do you need a minute?” Gently sitting in the chair across from her, I slowly place my notebook and pen on the table, ready whenever she is, but not wanting to pressure her.

“No, I’m okay to proceed.” She blows her nose in a tissue and takes a deep breath before launching into her story. “My best friend Katie and I are like this.” She holds her entwined fingers up for emphasis. “We text constantly to keep each other updated on our day, no matter how stupid the update may be.” Genevieve gives a watery smile. “The other night we were out clubbing, and I decided to head home first. I told her we should share a cab, but she lives in the opposite direction, so she insisted on taking her own.” She sniffles and stares at the table in front of her, lost in a memory. “I got home fine and waited for an update fromher saying the same and I just ... never got it.” Tears continue to stream down her cheeks. “I’ve called her so many times I can’t even tell you and tried to get into her apartment but nothing. Poof. I’m worried something happened to her. This isn’t like her.”

Genevieve is now a blubbering mess, and I set my stationary on the table. Walking over, I squat down in front of the crying woman and pat her knee.

“Hey, it’s okay.” I soothe her the best I can. “We can take a break for as long as you need.”

Tearfully, she looks down at me apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’m not typically this much of a mess but I can’t shake the feeling I’ll never see her again.” Suddenly, she grips my hands. “You’re going to get her back, right?”

I grip her hands back just as tightly. “I’ll send in my report and start investigating. Detective Waters will take over once she’s back tomorrow so you’ll be hearing from her not me.” I hope my sincerity can be heard and the relief in her eyes tell me it is.

“May I ask you what the name of the club was you were at?”

She lifts her tear-stained face to me. “Vex.”

My heart jolts in my chest, and I try to school my features so as not to give any emotion away. There’s no concrete evidence Vex has anything to do with her friend’s disappearance, but the fact I’ve had a bad feeling, tied with what Luna said, the whole thing is shady.

“Just a few more things and then I can get started on opening an investigation.”

Sitting back down in my seat I cross my jean clad legs and begin writing.

Blowing out a frustrated breath I look back down at my notebook.

Wrinkles litter the lined paper from shoving it into my pocket and my list is completely crossed off except for one scribble. I’ve visited every surrounding business on Vex’s street save for the one I now stand in front of.

None of the establishments knew anything about the situation, and one, ran by a crotchety old woman, refused to answer my questions. I left quickly afraid she’d take a bite out of my arm with her crazy ass dentures. Every time I spoke, she inched closer to me and bit at the air like a piranha. I’m not sure if she was just messing with me or truly off her rocker.

“So fucking weird,” I mumble, my breath swirling in the cold air. At least it isn’t raining for once. “Let’s get this done.” One last place to visit.

The Throwing Wheel is an adorable pottery shop with all kinds of ceramics displayed in the front window. Mugs, vases, decorative pieces, and more, line shelves showing off both the owners’ and customers’ pieces. Fake pumpkins and leaves are dispersed throughout the art, and I file the location in the back of my mind for a future girl’s day with Ava. I’m shit at pottery, but so is she, so it would make for a great laugh. Last time we did it, I dropped my mug in a bucket of glaze and her piece got stuck to mine in the kiln rendering them useless.

I push open the door and step inside. The smell of clay and earth hit my nostrils and soft jazz plays over a speaker. Shelves of pottery continue throughout the entire room and the buzz of pottery wheels fills the space. It’s a quaint but quirky store full of character.

A class is in session, and I hear the teacher instructing the attendees on how to throw a clay cylinder.