The Disappearance (part 3 – A short story by Mark Brady)

“You call the police about a missing person?”

“Yeah. My husband. We came home from church, ate our lunch, and he told me he was going out to the garage to do some tinkering. He likes to tinker. Rebuild old radios, fix neighbor’s lawnmowers, that kind of thing. I went to take a nap. When I got up, I didn’t find him in the house. I started making dinner, assuming he was still in the garage. But I knew something was wrong when he didn’t come in for dinner. I have never had to call that man to dinner in thirty-five years of marriage. When he didn’t show up, I went to look in the garage, and he wasn’t there. I only found a pile of clothes in front of his workbench.”

 Officer Johnson looked over at Officer Dawson. “A Pile of clothes, ma’am?” asked Johnson.

“Yes, officer.”

“You’re husband’s clothes?”

“Why yes! Who else’s clothes would they be?”

“Just making sure, ma’am,” Johnson replied.

“Is he on any medication?” asked Dawson.

“No, except Ibprofin occasionally for pain.”

“Was the garage door open? Is his vehicle still here?” asked Johnson.

“His truck is here, and the garage door was still closed. And the garage door lights were still on. He never leaves a light on when he leaves a room. Never!”

“Did you look in the backyard?” asked Dawson.

“Yes. He wasn’t there either. That’s when I decided to call you all. I didn’t want to think my husband had gone off his rocker and was running around town naked. Hey, you don’t think this has anything to do with Pastor Scott’s daughter missing, do you? Terrible thing. Not knowing where someone is, especially a daughter.”

“Not sure, ma’am,” said Officer Dawson. “May we get a photo of your husband, please?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” The lady went into another room, and the officers could hear her rummaging around.

“I can’t believe this!” said Officer Johnson. “Two strange disappearances in two days, no sign of foul play, and,” he looked at the floor, “both of them leaving their clothes behind.”

She re-entered the living room and handed them a photo. “That’s when we visited our daughter Karen and our two grandsons at Christmas last year. She lives over in Kansas. Well, Wichita, to be exact.”

“Okay. Thanks, ma’am. I think we have enough to go on, and we’ll put out an APB for the other officers to be on the lookout for him,” said Johnson.

“Thank you, officers. Oh! One other thing. When I looked for my husband in the garage, his grinder was still on, and what he was working on was on the floor.”


Back at the Police Station, The officers cleared off a bulletin board. They put up a large map of the town of Seneca that included the area that bordered it. Then they inserted push-pins in the location of Pastor Scott’s house and 422 Oneida Street. They used a color system to indicate the sex of each person who had disappeared.

“I wonder if we have some kind of sick, twisted serial killer on our hands,” Officer Johnson wondered.

“Oh, you mean he tells them to strip down naked and then quietly go with him?” Officer Rogers joked.

“Not funny, Rogers!” said Captain Peamont. “At this time, we don’t know what we have going on here. All we do know is two fine people are missing. We don’t know why. We don’t know if anyone is behind this or not, and we don’t know where they are. Yesterday we looked all over Seneca for Tamera and came up empty-handed. We need to keep our wits about us, keep the people of Seneca calm, and… it wouldn’t hurt to be praying for God’s help in the matter. Do your normal patrols and be on the lookout for anything strange, out of the ordinary, for Seneca, that is.”


The officers went back to their patrols as Captain Peamont had ordered.

“Dispatch, this is Rogers. Put me through to the Captain immediately!”

…To be continued…

Copyright © 2023 Mark Brady. All rights reserved.

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