Tim Curran PUPPET GRAVEYARD

For Steve Clark

1

Five months after her sister Gloria disappeared, Kitty Seevers got out of the shower in time to hear a pounding at the front door. Throwing on a robe and wrapping her hair in a towel, she rushed downstairs to find the FedEx guy standing there. He looked amused by her appearance as if a situation like that had played often enough times in his private fantasies.

After signing his clipboard, she took the registered letter from him. “Thanks,” she said.

“No, thank you,” he said.

Sighing, she shut the door and plopped herself on the couch. She had no idea who could be sending her a letter. Or why. The white cardboard envelope was sealed with packing tape and she had to use scissors to cut it free. Inside were two things. The first raised an eyebrow. It was just a perfectly ordinary sheet of note paper folded in half. On it, printed in something of a shaky script were the words: BAMBOO LOUNGE, WICKER PARK. The second item made her heart drop in her chest. In a plastic baggie, there was a lock of hair. Perfectly golden hair with red highlights. It was Gloria’s hair. There was no doubt in her mind.

There were many things she could have done at that moment.

For instance, she could have called the Chicago police and told them about it, but they’d been little help five months before, insinuating that Gloria was an attractive girl and attractive girls tended to get themselves in situations. And maybe that was true, but regardless of what situation she might have gotten in, Gloria would call. Because that was the kind of person Gloria was.

No, not the police. Kitty decided she wasn’t putting up with that shit again. She would handle this herself as she should have right from the start.

So, five minutes later, she was on her laptop booking a flight to Chicago.

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