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Eliza Lynn Taylor

Eliza Lynn Taylor
Eliza Lynn Taylor Freelance Writer

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Missing Part II


Ten years later…
Rosalind and Philomena were loading Rosalind’s minivan with groceries at the Aldi store. They were chatting away as one unloaded the cart and the other placed the bags and boxes into the back of the van.

“Miss? Excuse me, Miss?” a male voice said. “You forgot this bag,” he said right behind Philomena
.
“What?” She turned around to see a man about six feet tall with striking green eyes and snow white hair. His lack of wrinkles suggested to her he may have gone prematurely gray. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I noticed you packed this bag but you didn’t take it with you,” he said. He handed her the bag of potato chips and cookies.

“Oh, thanks,” she said. “The boys would have killed me for forgetting these,” she told her sister. She smiled at the man and handed the bag off to her sister for depositing into the van.

“You have such a pretty smile,” he told her.

“Thank you; my husband thinks so too,” she replied. The man nodded and walked away.

Rosalind whistled loudly and then made a noise like an explosion. “Another one shot down in his prime. What the hell is wrong with you? Is it his white hair? Because he didn’t look all that old.”

“Oh, please, Terry’s family had prematurely white hair. He probably has white hair himself by now.”

Ignoring her use of the present tense Rosalind admonished Philomena. “Then what else could it be? You haven’t so much as gone to dinner with anyone since he died.”

“His body was never found. He may still be alive and that means I am still married.”

Rosalind slapped herself on the forehead and ran her hand down her face. “It’s been ten years! Don’t you think someone would have found him by now? I mean they found someone about three weeks after the car went in the river but it wasn’t Terry. They never have figured that one out.”

“I don’t care about that guy. I care about Terry. If they didn’t find him, then maybe he’s out there somewhere.”

“Oh, geez Philomena. I wish they would find his remains just so you can lay him to rest.”

“You know what Rosalind? I do too. I wish they’d find him one way or the other. The boys are seventeen now and as good as your husband has been to them; it’s not the same as a dad. They are in as much limbo as I am. Next spring they graduate and their father will not be there.”

“They seem okay,” Rosalind said.

“Outwardly they are just fine, but inside they want to know. I’ve heard them talking when they didn’t know I was around.”

“That’s tough.” Rosalind patted her shoulder. “Well, we’d better get this stuff home. Your ice cream is going to melt and then my nephews will be mad at me for driving too slow and ruining their junk food.”

Philomena laughed. “They probably would too. They’re totally bottomless pits.”

“Hey mom,” Jerry, one of the twins said when she walked in with a bag of groceries. “Some cop called to talk to you while you were out. I wrote down his name and number.”

“What did he want? You guys aren’t in any trouble, are you?”

“No,” he answered. “I promise. “Gary might be. He’s been over at that girl’s house an awful lot.”

“Let’s hope not. Go help your aunt with the groceries. I’ll call him back. Did you leave the message by the phone?”

He nodded and headed out the door and Philomena sat her bag on the counter next to the phone. When she read the name she put her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. She grabbed the cordless receiver and sat down at the kitchen table dialing as she sat.

“Detective Corcoran? This is Philomena Braxton returning your call.

“Mrs. Braxton, I am so glad you called back,” he said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but you know how we have cold case files on the news every once in a while?”

She nodded as she spoke, “Yes, I believe I’ve seen them.”

“Well, we’ve run that one on your husband several times over the years and someone called in the other day saying they may have seen him.”

“What?” she asked slowly.

“It’s a long shot, really, it is,” he went on. “But, this person was in town for a convention and he saw the news report. He’s from Ashland, Wisconsin and works with social services. He says there’s a homeless shelter in the area and he thinks he saw him there.”

“After all this time? Are they sure?” she asked. Her hands were shaking and she could barely speak.

“Well, no, he’s not at all sure. Obviously because of the passing of time he may have some changes to his appearance, and he may have may changed it on purpose. But I thought if you wanted to take a trip up there, maybe you could identify him. The statute of limitations has run out on that high-speed chase where the car went into the river, so he won’t be in any trouble about it.”

“What about the trouble with the law over faking his death?”

“Have you had him declared legally dead or collected on the life insurance?”

“Neither one; the insurance company wants proof of death and since I didn’t go to court to get declared dead there’s no death certificate, and obviously there is no body.”

“Then there isn’t a problem. After all these years, it sounds like you need closure as much as anything else. I’m sure you have a lot of questions for him, if it is indeed Terrance.” The officer, who after ten years was now a detective, waited for an answer.

“Yes, okay, I’ll go look. Are you going?” she said at last.

“No, I wish; I’d like to know what happened as much as anyone, but I can’t leave for that. Since the statute of limitations is up, there aren’t any pending charges and I have no legal reason to go. He’s been considered a missing person for three years now, not a fugitive possibly at large.”

“Can you give me the contact information of the man who thinks he saw him?”

“Absolutely, in fact, he insisted I do just that. If he can get a homeless person back with their family, then he has done his job.” He read off the information to her as she wrote it on the back of the telephone message her son had taken earlier. 

“Okay, thank you so much. I think I’d better check with my boys and see if they want to go. If it’s not him, they’ll be upset all over again.”

“Let me know how it turns out. Good luck Mrs. Braxton.

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