VANISHED-

"Helen is going back to her husband!" Hector hissed. "And since I'm the oldest and you're living off my money, my word is law!"

For once, Paris persisted and argued,

"I could make my own living to take care of her!"

Hector scoffed. "A buck an hour doesn't qualify as a living, Paris."

Helen suddenly jumped up from her seat between them.

"Don't I have a say in this?" she demanded.

"NO!" Hector and Paris both retorted in unison, glaring across her head at each other.

Helen looked taken aback at first. Then, she made a 'humph!' sound and stormed off, feeding her own blazing anger. Immediately, Paris rushed after her, pleading for forgiveness, declaring his own guilt.

A loud ring spilt the awkward silence left behind and Hector fumbled for his cellphone.

Menelaus's infuriated voice greeted him.

"Helen's gone!" Menelaus cried. "Again!"

"Really?" Hector questioned as innocently as he could.

"Yes, really!" Menelaus said crossly. "Tell me, Hector, why is your wife always by your side and my wife always running off? Tell me the truth: Am I a bad husband?"

"Um...well," Hector struggled to think up a good lie. "You're a terrific husband! It's just that...you're too good for Helen! Forget about her! You deserve better!"

"I know," Menelaus muttered. "I mean, sure, I drink, I lie, and I cheat sometimes, but isn't that what every husband does?"

'Yeah, if you learned from a "How to be a Good Husband for Dummies" book,' Hector thought, almost pitying Menelaus.

"By the way, Andromache called to ask if I knew where you were," Menelaus said out of the blue. "Are you running away from your wife?"

Hector paled and snatched a newspaper from the guy who sat next to him. Crumpling it up right next to the phone, Hector yelled,

"Menelaus, I can't hear you! There's a lot of static...I'm losing...contact..."

Quickly, Hector ended the call and with a foolish smile, handed the newspaper back to the guy.

"Sorry," he laughed meekly.

Narrowed, icy blue eyes met his. Smoothing back his long hair that had golden highlights, the man slowly smiled, a smile that had the look of a well-fed pussycat. Hector was reminded of L'oreal Hair Shampoo model.

"Forgiven," the man said generously and held out a hand.

"Thanks," Hector replied uncertainly, taking the hand and shaking it. He felt calluses over the rough skin. "What's your name?"

"Achilles," the man responded. "And yours?"

"Hector," Hector said, wondering when Achilles would let go of his hand. The man's iron grip was straining.

And Achilles did let go, but not before smirking as if the pussycat had just caught a mouse.

Half an hour later, Paris came running back, his face flushed and worried.

"Helen's gone!" he blurted out frantically.

"Gone?" Hector exclaimed. "She eloped without a guy?"

Paris shrugged and panting, began to tell what happened.

"After she forgave me, she told me that she was going to the bathroom to freshen up because her makeup was all smeared," Paris recalled. "But she never came out!"

Hector gasped.

"So I went inside to look," Paris murmured.

Briseis cringed. "Oh, you poor baby! What did they do to you?"

Paris showed her the swelling bruises on his arms. "A whole horde of overweight grandmas attacked me with their umbrellas."

"Then," Paris continued. "I started searching for Helen all over the place, but she's gone! She's just vanished!"

Briseis bit her lip. Great. Now, they had sunk even deeper into this mess. As she sank into the seat, she heard a crumpling of paper under her. She was sitting on a newspaper that spidery words scribbled onto it.

If you want Helen, be at the Spartan Courthouse at 6:00 today. All of you.

P.S. Briseis, I expect that you still remember your last visit to the Courthouse.

Achilles