Mike shared a disappointed sigh with his partner, when the door remained closed after the third knock. Despite an array of cars parked along the street, nobody was moving inside and a quick glance through the entrance area revealed a well-kept up, albeit deserted, house.
Checking his wristwatch, Mike frowned at the thought of the house being empty at dinner time. Perhaps its occupants had gone out to run errands.
Next to him, Steve looked around the neighborhood, his curious green eyes coming to rest at a man across the street kneeling by a small flower bed, tending his garden.
"It's as good a guess as any...", Mike breathed as both detectives walked back down the stairs and crossed the busy two-lane road. Approaching the African-American man dressed in jean overalls and a white t-shirt, Mike flashed his badge.
"Excuse me, Sir. My name is Lieutenant Mike Stone. I'm with San Francisco PD. This is my partner Inspector Steve Keller. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?"
The man looked up from his flowerbed and eyed the two detectives suspiciously, before rising to his feet. Wiping his hands on the overall, he nodded slowly.
"I guess so. What is this about?"
"What is your name, Sir?", Steve asked, digging his notepad out of the breast pocket of his dress coat.
"My name is Davey Rodgers. I've been living here for the past forty-five years."
"Seems like a nice neighborhood.", trying himself in small talk, Mike casually put his hands on his side, careful to keep the .38 revealed behind his black overcoat, "I like your flowers. Say, are these geraniums?"
The man looked down briefly, before a smile flashed on his lips, showing off his immaculately clean teeth.
"They are, you are right Lieutenant. I like them. My wife used to garden a lot back home but now that she's gone…", his mind drifted off for a few seconds and he let his gaze sink, "Well, gentlemen, I guess you didn't come here to discuss gardens."
"No, we did not unfortunately.", Mike said with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Turning around, he pointed at the house across the street.
"Would you happen to know the Johnsons at all?"
Davey nodded with a broad smile.
"Oh yes. Doloris and Harry. Great folks. They've been living on this block for many decades too. They must be out running errands for church."
Mike threw a knowing glance over at his partner, before clearing his throat.
"Mister Rodgers, would you happen to know their daughter too? A Mavis Johnson?"
"Sure, sure. Very nice kid. You know, you don't find that type around here all that often anymore. They definitely did a great job raising her. Makes me wish I would have homeschooled my kids."
Mike tried hard to mask his confusion beneath a slight smile. This time, it was Steve who spoke up first.
"Mister Rodgers, when was the last time you saw Mavis?"
"Oh…let me think about that, young man.", he said and scratched his head.
After a brief moment, he nodded in satisfaction.
"Yeah, I'd say about two and a half months ago? I used to see her walk their dog Max in the mornings. When I hadn't seen her in a while I went over to ask Harry and he said that she was part of an exchange student program with a school in Kenya. Sounds like a great opportunity. I was very excited for Mavis. Like I said, we need more engaged kids like her around. I bet she will do great in life."