Chapter 2

"I d-didn't know who to talk to..." she shivered in the chair, she held a tissue in her hand, shaking hard. If it wasn't already obvious to Michael Schmidt that she was a distraught mother then he had no right to call himself a senior detective of the high ranks.

What he gathered from her in between her chocked sobs that her full name was Robin Karen Afton, she was 37 years old and lived in a quiet neighbourhood with her five year old daughter, who was the issue here. She came in here and sat down and started to bawl her eyes out. Eventually the young man approached her and inquired why she was so upset.

"I know this is hard for you. Please. Repeat it again. I'm typing it down for a report to post on every media outlet."

"W-well. Today started like any other day. I promised my daughter Natasha we'd go to the shops and she could get an ice cream."

"What does Natasha look like?"

"S-she's avenge height. She has light orange hair with green eyes. I put a red bow in her hair." Robin shook her head and began to break into a sob again.

"It's okay Ms Afton. I understand. I don't tell a lot of people this but I actually have a daughter too. I would search heaven and hell for her. Please. Every detail helps. Keep going. We need to know as much as possible if you want your daughter back."

"W-we went shopping. I told her I needed to go into a bakery and I promised to get her a cupcake if she waited. When I came back, she was gone. No where to be seen."

"What about Natasha's father?"

"He's dead sir. I haven't told Natasha."

"Any relatives?"

"No. None."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to get back at you? An ex boyfriend? Someone you owe money to." Mike threw all suggestions onto the table at the moment since he couldn't find anything yet.

"No! No one would want to hurt my child!" He heard people say that before. Very often if a child had been snatched. It would be someone they know and trust.

"Alright. We'll search for footage. Ask people. See if your daughter was seen with anyone else."

"She's a sweet girl. No one should harm her! She's a good girl, eats all her vegetables, helps me with the dishes and she smiles everyday."

"Alright. Ms Afton thank you. Please return home and get some rest. If we find anything we'll call you." Mike told her.

This was no typical case; this girl had literally vanished without a trance. No witnesses had come forward yet. No suspects. This was very weird.

"Help me out here George please." Mike asked as he walked by his office.

"I have no idea either Mike." The red haired man answered, "This girl disappeared like vapour."

"Do you think it could be connected to a sex ring?"

"Anything's possible at the moment. We have no evidences."

"I'll keep searching."

"Do that Schmidt." George told him then marched back to his own office. He sighed and placed his head down.

"I'll never live up to my dad's name." He sighed then picked up a photograph on his desk.

The photograph was of his father, mother and him in his childhood. He was always proud of him. This was his father's office years ago and he felt like he was failing to be who he was meant to be. He was excepted to be just like him but he was often insulted when people exclaimed stuff like "You're nothing like your father!", "Lance was better!", "YOU'LL NEVER LIVE UP TO HIS NAME YOU LITTLE ****!"

"I'm useless!" She threw the photograph across the room and it smashed on the floor.

Once he got the guts to pick it up. He found a small slip of paper that had been ripped up, but he made out a phone number scribbled in pen.

#### - ####- #### - ####

Out of plain curiosity he wondered who the number belonged to. The number wasn't one he remembered. For either his personal or work related things. His father always told him to be curious. So he decided to hang onto the number. Maybe it was apart of an old case.

Ennard only worked four days. He had the weekends and Thursday off. Today was Thursday and he decided to venture out to get his weekly groceries.

Ennard always wrote a list and he took note of weekly specials. He embraced his walking stick in his grasp, he grabbed his shopping jeep too, he loved using it. It was effective and helped him to carry the groceries back to his apartment, plus it was heavy, meaning he could easily knock someone out with it. He waddled outside his apartment and to the elevator.

When he was a detective he learnt an important rule; "even the most harmless objects can become weapons". When people were generally asked about weapons, they thought of guns and knives. Ennard saw bricks, sticks, pots, glass and rat killer as weapons that could kill. He was always suspcious of people who had rat killer but didn't intend to use it for rats, he knew those things were often toxic to people but they usually had an emetic, which would cause a person to expel the chemical by barfing it up.

Ennard walked the whole way to the supermarket. He earnt a few looks. Even when he stopped at the traffic lights and a boy no older than seven began to stare at him.

"Honey don't stare!" His mother scolded him.

"Mommy he has scars!" The boy sounded excited. Ennard hated the three scars on his face. One on his forehead, one on his right cheek, and the last on his chin.

"Leave him alone! He's elderly. We respect our elders."

That made him snap. People always thought he was twice his age, because he was handicap and had silver hair.

"Pardon me Madam I'm actually younger than 40." He told her sounding angry, "We don't judge a book by its cover. Therefore we should never judge a person by how they appear. Same with your little darling. Who might get his tongue ripped out if they say the wrong thing."

"Why are you saying that about my child?!"

"Teach him some manners." Ennard warned then walked across the road when the cross signal came up. He didn't care what he said to anyone. If they swung at him. He'd duck and someone would report said person for harassing a handicapped person. Plus that walking stick was good for hitting people.

He began shopping once he reached the supermarket. He only thought about what he needed. He was so deep in thought with finding the right apples that he didn't see the little girl who came up to him. When he turned around he was a bit startled. She was about six or something. She had light orange hair with stunning green eyes.

"Can I help with you something?" He inquired now noticing she had been standing there for a while.

"I was just waiting for you to finish mister. I want to get an apple." She told him.

"Oh okay." He excepted her to be rude like any other snot nosed brat he knew who would throw stones at him. Then they poke their tongues at him. It however gave him the execuse to squeal to their mother then hear them get spanked.

"Do you like apples?" She asked

"Why are asking me questions kid? I don't even know you."

"I'm just waiting for my daddy. He promised we'd get ice cream."

"Run along now. I have no use for kids." Ennard disregarded her, so she walked away.

Ennard got on with the rest of his shopping then he paid for it all then walked away back to his apartment. Taking the elevator back up. Once he arrived, he looked to the door across the hall from his and found it was open. Must he new people he thought. No one had been in there since the crazy cat lady left three months ago. Ennard had to wear a peg on his nose because of the smell of cat piss burnt his nostrils and made his eyes water intensely.

"Why hello there!" He jumped startled and dropped his keys on the floor. He turned around and saw a man with white hair that looked like snow with a pink highlight running through it. He wore a white shirt and pink vest with black pants.

"NOT INTERESTED!" Ennard quickly yelled frantically scrambling to grab his keys off the floor and open the door. Whilst he bent down. His body began to annoy him with pangs of pain coming from his lower back area.

"Do you live there? Oh goodie! We're neighbours!"

"No we're not!" Ennard yelled as he finally stood back up and shoved his key into the lock.

"I'm Fernando what's your name?"

"Go away." Ennard told him growling.

"You're really young looking for a man who has a walking stick. What kind of drugs do you use?"

"Go away." Ennard growled again opening the door then closing it. He sighed in relief and began to place away his groceries. He didn't want interaction with anyone at the moment. Especially not the gayest looking guy he has ever seen who has no sense of personal space.

"Hello again!"

"DAAH!" Ennard screamed startled, Fernando had just casually invited himself in. He was right; this guy had no idea what personal space was and he was intruding.

"You didn't answer my question!"

"I'm 34 now get out!" He came towards him.

"What's your name?"

"Get out! Get out! Now!" Ennard yelled at him.

"We're neighbours."

"I don't care! You weren't invited to come in! Get out!"

"But we're neighbours." He sulked now. Ennard didn't care; he wanted him out.

"I'll call the police you weirdo! Get out of my apartment!"

"You didn't say please."

Ennard then furiously whacked his walking stick into his stomach. He had frustrated him enough; he had intruded in his living space, harassed him and then wanted to make Ennard look impolite. Fernando fell on the floor not completely understanding why this man was whacking him.

"I've asked too many times! Now get out and leave me alone!" Ennard shouted then forced all his strength to deliver the mother load of pain on him, but Fernando moved quickly and Ennard hit the floor and his wrist dislocated from the force.

"AH! Fuck! Look what you did you, you moron!" He exclaimed in pain.

"Fernando get inside!" A female voice called out.

"Coming Bon!" He smiled the turned around.

"Go inside." The female told him then she approached Ennard.

"I'm not inviting you in. Go away." He scowled. Now in a foul mood, he knew now he would need to visit the hospital.

"I apologise for my brother's behaviour. He has no sense of personal space."

"That was your brother?" Ennard asked finding it very weird. She looked around in her late twenties.

"Yes. I'm Bonnebell. I prefer BonBon."

"Your brother came in without being invited. How old is he?"

"He's 28." Bonbon answered

"Then why the hell does had have zero meaning of person space?" Ennard scowled.

"He's just like that. He never understands distance."

"I like my privacy. Keep him out of my living area."

"I'll try but he usually sneaks away." BonBon complained.

"Put on iron chain on his ankle."

"That's a funny joke." She smiled a little.

"That wasn't a joke." Ennard told her then slammed the door in her face before he clipped it lock so Fernando didn't come back in.