Suzie’s House 528 : A Puddle in a Parking Lot

Drew, Suzie, and Miranda stood in a circle around a suspicious puddle in the store parking lot a few feet from where they found Vin’s car.

“It might not be related,” Suzie said hopefully, though she knew full well the odds were against it.

“This was his phone.” Miranda shook the broken and crushed fragments of a phone in her hand. She picked through the shards until she found a sticker of a heart on black casing. “I put this sticker on myself.”

“But that was…” Suzie dropped it. The phone had been mere inches away from this terrifying little puddle.

Drew bent with finger extended. It came up red. He sniffed. What was he, a dog to tell by scent that this was Vin’s blood? Well, maybe he could at that. He stood, Miranda dumped the phone pieces in her purse, then extracted a Kleenex, which she handed to Drew without even looking at him.

“Now what?” Suzie glanced around.

“You’d think someone would have noticed a man getting abducted in broad daylight.” Miranda complained loudly. “It’s obvious he didn’t go willingly.” She gestured to the tarmac.

“I saw!” A young child’s voice came from behind her.

Suzie turned to see a little boy, maybe seven or eight, hanging out the window of a nearby car.

“You did?” Suzie moved closer with a cautious smile. “Tell me everything.”

“It was a camper! You know, like on a pick up truck? This guy with hair like this,” He held his hand over his face the way Vin’s bangs flopped, “he went up to this guy who had been standing next to the door of his camper for a long time. Next thing you know, the guy with the camper just shoved the other guy in. Like that.” The kid made a shoving gesture. “He looked really guilty when he closed the door behind them. The camper and truck and everything started rocking. Like this.” More gestures. “And then the camper guy came back out by himself.”

“What did he look like?” Drew had joined her while the boy talked. So did Miranda.

“He camper guy? He had a thing.” He gestured like pulling something from his chin.

“A beard?” Suzie guessed.

“Yeah! That’s right. Kind of a beard. But not a very good one. Kind of like he wanted to grow a one but he could only get a few long hairs no his chin. You know? Like this.” Again with the pulling.

“I think I know who he’s talking about.” Miranda dug in her purse. “Hey kid, did you happen to get his license plate?”

“Uh… no.” He shook his little head solemnly. “But he went that way.” The boy pointed.

The direction he pointed glistened with little puddles of blood, one after another.

“This the beard guy?” Miranda pulled out a sheet of paper with a black and white print out of a picture. She tilted it toward the boy.

“Yeah! That’s him! That’s the one.”

“Petrovich.” Miranda’s voice dropped a grim octave. “The suspect.”

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