\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2338408-Mayday
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Detective · #2338408

A missing child, a crowded nightclub and a young detective couple's first case...

Daniel Eric Sullivan clicked a pen rapidly open and shut against his desk, unsure of how to react to the pale, sobbing woman in front of him. His wife Reema wrapped her arms around her, patting her back.

"We'll do our best to help you, Emily, honey. Just try to breathe for me, ok?"

"I need to find my baby girl!" she cried, shaking. "The police—aren't doing enough."

After a few minutes, she was able to breathe easier. Reema poured a cup of tea and sat beside her at the desk.

"Now tell us all about it."

Dan opened his laptop to take notes as Emily sipped her tea and began.

"Two days ago, my three-year-old, Selene, disappeared from the front yard of our rental in the projects. I called the police, and they sent out an amber alert…"

"Yes, we heard about it." Dan nodded. He pulled up the alert on his phone, scanning through the details.

"They interviewed me, searched the property… they tell me they're searching everywhere she could have gone. But I need someone who can work with me one-on-one. The police won't tell me anything. I don't know if I'm a suspect in my own daughter's disappearance, or what's going on!"

"How did you find us?" Dan asked.

"I saw your ad on Facebook: Sullivan and Sullivan Detective Agency. I don't know what to do. I can't really afford private investigators, but…" she sniffled, looking around the shabby office. She paused at Dan and Reema's bachelor's degrees framed on the wall. "You must be so experienced at this. I'm sure you can find her."

Dan squirmed in his seat and exchanged sheepish glances with his wife.

"Actually… Reema and I are just starting out. We're probably younger than you. Honestly, you're our first client, like literally."

Her eyes widened. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"I… I need help, and you seem like good-hearted people. I'm willing to try you out. How much is this going to cost me?"

Dan looked across the desk at Reema, a question in his eyes. She nodded. He drew himself up.

"Emily, seeing as this is our first case and you're in a desperate situation, we're not going to charge you anything. We'll do this pro bono."

"Your little girl's life is at stake," Reema added. "We wouldn't think of charging, if it's not in your means."

"Oh, thank God!" Emily wiped her face with a napkin. "Please, do everything you possibly can. I'm so scared for her."

"Have you any reason to believe Selene's been kidnapped?" Reema asked. "What about her father?"

"He's my ex-boyfriend, Ronnie… I don't have anything to do with him anymore. He's a drug addict, abusive, been in and out of jail… a worthless POS."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"He got let out of the state penitentiary last week. He's threatened to take her away before. I wanted him to pay child support, but of course he won't."

"If he's made threats in the past, he might have carried them out." Dan rested his chin in his hands on the desk. "We have to get him accounted for. The police haven't told you if they've interviewed him?"

"No."

"We'll need to track him down. Do you know where he might be staying?"

"No, not really. We haven't been in touch in a long time. He used to work at a nightclub on the outskirts of town, the Mayday. He probably still has friends there."

Dan googled the name on his laptop, bringing forth a string of one-star reviews and seedy headlines. He turned the screen so the women could see it.

"I think our first mission should be inquire at the club." Reema said. "He may have reapplied, having worked there previously. Or a buddy might know where he's living."

"Someone might even know what happened to Selene," Dan observed. "This needs to be followed up on."

After discussing more aspects of the situation and signing some paperwork, they got up to bid Emily goodbye.

"You don't know how grateful I am that you're doing this for me. I feel so much better with you guys on the case."

Dan shook her hand and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"We'll do our best to bring Selene home safe and sound."

***


Doubts clouded Dan's mind as he guided their car through town that evening. Aging streetlights dappled him with oscillating waves of orange glow.

"What if we fail?" His words fell into the silence between him and his wife. "I'm scared. I don't know if we can do this. What if Selene is…?"

"We'll do our best." Reema's voice was calm and steady in the dark. "This is the first step. We can do it."

Dan swung into a pitted gravel parking lot.

"Wonder why they call it Mayday," he mused, diverting his anxiety with trivialities. "Isn't that the distress signal?"

"Probably what all the patrons say after they've been here a few minutes." Reema eyed the gaudy neon lights and a boarded up window.

"Seems like a real classy joint. I can imagine an ex-con working here." Dan checked the glovebox for his gun. "I feel like bringing it in with me, but we'd be soundly bounced."

"Just try to focus on the task at hand. We'll be fine."

Inside, rhythmic blasts of bass sound waves hit them like a tsunami. Disco balls sent murky shadows flickering in and out between dizzying flashes of multicolored lights. Dancers crowded the floor. The air hung thick with the stenches of alcohol, too many people and not enough air conditioning.

Dan had never been in a nightclub before, and he doubted Reema had either. He held her arm securely. How could anyone hear themselves think in such an overwhelming atmosphere? Of course, people didn't go there to do any thinking.

The bouncer, a hefty guy clutching a soda can and yakking with patrons, gave them a curt nod as he stood by the door.

A man about their age waved enthusiastically from the check-in kiosk.

"Daniel, is that you?"

"Mark! Long time no see!" Dan rushed to high-five his high school friend, relief washing over him at the sight of a familiar face.

They caught up on life for a moment. Then,

"We're here on a mission."

Dan displayed his credentials. Reema pulled out hers.

"We need to speak with the owner about Ronnie. We think he kidnapped Selene, the amber alert. He's her father."

"Whoa… Ronnie?"

Mark stiffened, his eyebrows going up. He glanced into a corner of the bustling dance hall, leaned forward and whispered,

"He's right back there, getting sloshed with a couple thug friends. You want me to seat you behind them while I get the owner? They might say something important."

Dan breathlessly allowed Mark to lead them to a table against the wall. The three men at the next table were brawny brawlers, with tattooed faces and loud, crude voices. Even in the throbbing din, it didn't take much effort to overhear them.

"Hey, you heard about the missing kid?" One grunted. "Ronnie, ain't she your brat?"

"Yeah, my old girl keeps bugging me to send them money. I showed her!"

"What'd you do, man, kill her off?"

"Naw, not directly." Ronnie guffawed. "I stole the kid—dropped her off somewhere no one will ever find her. She'll starve to death soon enough."

Dan gripped the edge of his table, holding back a hot rush of fury. Reema bit her lip, eyes flashing.

"You ain't telling where you left her? Man, you ain't got the fear of God in ya, buddy!"

Ronnie slogged down a drink. His tone became more boastful as his words slurred.

"I ain't telling nobody she's twenty miles down the old Swamp Road in the basement of that abandoned church! Nobody, ya hear?"

The other two men burst out laughing and slapped him on the back.

"You idiot, Ronnie, you spilled the beans!"

"Nobody gonna hear us who gives a flying rat's bottom, 'roun' here," Ronnie mumbled, glancing behind him at Dan and Reema, who slouched low, staring blankly at the table.

The conversation moved on in quieter tones, as though the men were aware they had gone too far. Dan looked up as a portly, greasy man with squinty eyes and a suit approached his table.

"I'm Inky Jones, proprietor of the Mayday. You wanted me, sir?"

"I think I've acquired all necessary information, thank you very much." Dan pulled in a sharp breath and stood up. "Come on, Reema. We've got work to do."

***


"You think Ronnie was telling the truth?" Reema stared out the window at the wild, moonlit countryside Dan was speeding through. "What if he was just drunk as a skunk?"

"We can't let another minute go by without confirming it firsthand." Dan held the steering wheel, white-knuckled. "If little Selene's been trapped there for three days…" he shuddered.

"At least he didn't sell her to traffickers. If we can go by his words."

Time dragged as they bumped through a weed-choked trail in the woods. Finally, Dan's headlights illuminated a crumbling building with a broken steeple. He retrieved his gun and got out. Reema was already clutching hers. They wore headlamps, slicing through the shadows.

A strained, agonizing howling filled the air as they approached on foot. It was a starving pit bull, chained to the door to block the entrance as a sick joke.

"Oh my God…" Dan gasped.

Reema covered her eyes as he put the dog out of its misery with one shot. He helped her step over it and through the doorway.

They stumbled towards the archway to the crypt, holding each other's hands and tripping over torn floorboards. Downstairs, their headlamps lit up the huddled, roped body of the girl. Dan held a hand to her face, capturing a faint warm movement of air.

"She's alive!" He gathered her in his arms as Reema led the way out.

***


Emily held a bright, healthy, giggling Selene in her lap as they sat in the Sullivan office a few days later.

"I had no idea the community was raising such a big reward for finding her," she said. "Now you'll be well compensated."

"It was nothing, really." Dan said. "We only did what anyone else would have done."

"But this must have been so stressful as your first case. What was going through your minds?"

"Fear," Dan admitted. "And by the time it was over… horror. I don't think I'll ever forget that poor dog. Reema?"

"I think we had a tendency to look at detective work in a rosier way," she said, looking down at the floor. "Like, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, all thrill and no… kill."

Emily shook her head with a world-weary smile.

"You kids are too nice for detectives. You'll be exhausted, jaded, cynical and suspicious of everybody within a few years… crying Mayday."

"Whatever good we can do in this line of work, we will." Dan affirmed. "It's been our dream."

"Best of luck going forward, then." She stood up, balancing Selene on her hip. "You saved one life, and it's as if you saved the entire world. Thank you."


notes

lyrics to Mayday

video
© Copyright 2025 Amethyst Angel šŸ’ (greenwillow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2338408-Mayday