The Vanishing Girls of Wood Park Lane: (A psychological mystery) by Dan Whitesnow

Author:Dan Whitesnow [Whitesnow, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Tom shrugged but didn't say a word. He would have preferred to say, 'but, weren't you the questioner?' But he wasn't going to be rude. Dionne pushed the gear of the car and pulled back into the driveway. They drove a few meters down the road and parked.

"Okay. I think we should just sit on the front bumper and wait until a Good Samaritan walks by. It wouldn't be a good Christmas presentation if we did as agree, knocking on every front door, showing our badges." Dionne mumbled.

"And especially when we have to show our badges. People don't like cops. I wouldn't have either if I wasn't one of them." Tom sniffled.

Dionne smiled to herself but didn't say a word. She opened the car door and got out. Tom also did. The late afternoon weather was good. It wasn't snowing and the sun wasn't shining down. It wasn't freezing either, but it was cold. Tom wished he had a cup of coffee in his hands. He also wished amongst other things to be with his family for Christmas. It had always been the wrong Christmas for him, having to do police work while everyone else is rounding up the year eating and drinking and enjoying their lives with their families. But then, nobody forced him in. He'd decided all by himself to be a cop and was poised to live with it.

He went around and sat beside Dionne on the front bumper, and wished then again if he had a coffee to sip. He wasn't a smoker, but Dionne was. Although she'd recently quit smoking. The reasons were, that she caught her daughter smoking a cigarette, and decided to quit. She knew that was the only way to go if she would have the nerve to ask her daughter to stop smoking. Smoking was a necessity in freezing times, but it wasn't good for her health, and Dionne had been able to convince her daughter to quit smoking. Her daughter did, but then, she had her interest in something else. Dionne hadn't been able to tell her about the charade in her bedroom the other day, but then, she wondered just what would lead to that conversation if she hadn't caught her daughter in the act.

She had been a victim of pornography and masturbation as a young teenager, and how such uneven moments had led her to offer herself freely to the nearest boy, who had been available in the apartment building she grew up in. She had been pregnant then at sixteen and had an abortion, and then, ran away from sex. But then, she wasn't able to renounce pornography and masturbation, until she was lucky enough to be in a relationship at age nineteen. He was a nice boy, and in college, so everything went on fine.

They waited on the front bumper, waiting for the first person to walk by, as everyone suddenly seemed to know who they were, and weren't interested in their business. Even the dogs didn't bark, except for the faint whispering of birds, which were been tortured by the cold weather.

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