New Task
Alisha hurried toward the sleek black luxury car parked outside the office, her heels clicking on the pavement. She threw open the door and smiled brightly. “Dave!”
He leaned over and kissed her, his eyes scanning her face. “I watched your live report. Are you okay? That crazy woman outside the police mobile… she could’ve hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” she giggled, buckling in. “Joel and Sam were with me. And FYI, they’re both black belters in judo.”
Dave frowned. “Yeah? Still. I don’t trust them. They look useless.”
Alisha raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be jealous. They’re just my workmates. Nothing more. So… where are we going?”
He kissed her hand. “Dinner. My place—Black Cross Bar.”
Inside the private booth of his dimly lit bar, the warm lights flickered above them. As they ate, Alisha leaned forward. “Our next story… it’s about the 11 missing women. One every month. All vanished in the same way.”
Dave’s expression darkened. “Why not change your beat? Cover weather. Or fashion. Why dig into something even the cops can’t solve? Maybe those women just ran away.”
Alisha shrugged. “I’m new, I don’t get to choose. But one day… maybe a travel show?”
Then Dave sighed and leaned back in his seat, watching her closely. “Alright,” he said in a quiet voice. “You need to rest after dinner. I’ll drive you home.”
Alisha smiled as she sipped her drink. “Thanks, babe. You always take care of me.”
But Dave didn’t smile back. He was still staring at her, his fingers slowly tapping the table.
She tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”
He looked away, his jaw tight. “Nothing. Just… I don’t like this case you’re working on.”
Alisha blinked, surprised by the cold edge in his voice. “It’s just a story, Dave. I’m not chasing the killer myself.”
Dave looked at her again, his eyes unreadable. Then he smiled—but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Just a story.”
Dave waved politely at Alisha’s parents as she stepped out of his car in front of their large, well-lit house. Her father waved back, while her mother peeked from the front door.
“Why didn’t he come inside?” her mother asked as Alisha walked up the steps.
Alisha smiled. “He had to open the bar. You know, it gets busy at night.”
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Still, would’ve been nice to say hello properly.”
“I told him that, Dad,” Alisha replied with a chuckle. “Next time, I promise.”
Inside, the house smelled of freshly brewed coffee and vanilla candles. Her mother hugged her tightly. “We watched your report tonight. You were amazing.”
Her father nodded. “So composed. We’re proud of you.”
Alisha smiled but headed straight to the dining room where a light dinner was waiting. As they ate, her parents' pride shifted to concern.
“We just worry,” her mother said softly, “You’re always outside, chasing dangerous stories.”
Alisha reassured them, “It’s part of my job, Mom. I’m careful. It’s nothing too serious.”
Her father asked, “So what’s this new task of yours?”
She shrugged slightly. “Just looking into a string of college disappearances. Nothing confirmed yet.”
They both looked uneasy but didn’t press further.
Later, in her room, Alisha pulled out her whiteboard. She wrote down eleven names: Audrey Miller, Aubrey Moore, Aria Martin, Abegail Mayer, Adelia Murray, Anna Marshall, Atasha Martinez, Alice Morris, Ava Morton, Amelia Middleton, and Aurora Moss.
All of them were twenty years old. All freshly graduated. All missing.
The next morning at the ABC newsroom, she showed the board to Joel and Sam.
Joel blinked. “Wait… all their initials are A.M.”
Sam leaned closer. “No way. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Alisha’s eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t noticed it before.
A.M.
Just like her. Alisha Murphy.
Alisha, Joel, and Sam had spent the entire morning visiting different police stations, collecting photos and addresses of the eleven missing women. Each station had been helpful in giving them what they needed, but no real progress had been made—until the last one.
A middle-aged officer leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin as he looked at the photo board. “Ma’am, if you want my advice… stop wasting your time on this,” he said to Alisha. “These disappearances started almost eleven months ago. You’re not going to find anything new.”
Alisha didn’t flinch. “We just need any lead. Anything at all.”
The officer sighed. “There was one… weird report. A beggar claims he heard a scream near the forest last month. The girl—Aubrey Moore—was last seen walking alone near that area. But again, nothing confirmed. No body. No trace. Just some drunk beggar’s story.”
“Where can we find him?” Alisha asked.
The officer chuckled. “You’re serious? His name's Archie. You’ll find him at the public market, probably yelling at cars and asking for change. But don’t expect much. People say he’s crazy.”
Alisha thanked him, and the three of them drove straight to the market.
“There,” Joel pointed out. A scruffy man in torn clothes stood near a fruit stand, waving his arms and laughing to himself. He talked to nobody, eyes darting around wildly.
“That’s Archie?” Sam frowned. “Are we seriously trusting that guy?”
Joel shrugged. “We haven’t had a single other witness.”
Alisha took a breath. “We don’t have a choice. Stop the car.”
They stepped out and walked toward Archie. As they approached, he grinned wide and held out his hand. “Got a dollar for a soldier of the sky?” he muttered.
Alisha pulled a dollar from her pocket and handed it to him. “I have more if you can help me.”
Archie’s grin faded. He suddenly looked focused, eyes locking on hers.
“What do you want?” he asked, voice low now.
“I heard you saw something near the forest last month. A girl. Did you?”
Archie nodded slowly. “Screaming. Middle of the night. I was sleeping by the trees. Thought it was an animal. But it was a girl.” His voice cracked.
“What did you see?” Joel asked.
Archie’s eyes shifted fast, his laughter suddenly gone as he stared at Alisha. He lowered his voice, shaking his head while backing slightly against the wall.
"The woman..." Archie whispered, his eyes wide, flicking around nervously. “She was grabbed… by a man.”
Archie pointed one shaky finger. “A man. Tall. Black coat. Hood. He dragged her like she weighed nothing. I didn’t move. I just watched. I was scared. He looked at me—like he knew I was there.”
Alisha felt a chill run down her spine. “You saw his face?”
“No,” Archie whispered. “But his eyes… they weren’t right. Too still. Like a doll.”
“Can you take us to where it happened?” she asked.
Archie looked around, suddenly paranoid. “He goes back there. He watches. He knows who looks.”
Sam crossed his arms. “Do you want the money or not?”
Archie stepped closer to Alisha, his eyes wide. “You need to be careful, pretty girl. You ask too many things, you might be next.”