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Wilcox And Whiskey

Mystery Of The Missing School Teacher

By Jasper WolfPublished 3 years ago 12 min read
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I have found my vice in having at least a glass of whiskey a day. It calms my nerves after seeing the horrific details of life every day. The side of life that only lives in your nightmares. Having a nice buzz always seems to help the words come more easily.

I should introduce myself. Randy Wilcox is the name. I'm the head crime reporter for the Talavoy Evening Journal of Talavoy, Tennessee. Our sleepy little town lies just south of the smokey mountains. The view in our backyard is what attracts All American families to our little corner of the world.

Sitting in my small four-door, I flick my morning cigarette. I stand up to stretch and crush the cigarette with my tan loafer. Per my morning ritual, I stop to see Ralph, the owner of the Talavoy Cafe. I pay $3.00 for my french dark roast and any news Ralph hears from his regulars.

As I pulled out my worn wallet, he mentioned to me Mrs. Gray is said to be missing. Talavoy's finest have been at her house all morning. He continued to say that they were alerted when Mrs. Gray didn't show up for work at the local elementary school.

I asked him if he has heard if any foul play has been involved. Looking down in his cash drawer, he states, "I would assume so if she's missing. Nobody had seen her since last Friday when she left the school for the weekend."

I thanked Ralph and went on my way. Entering the office, the editor called for me first thing. I set my coffee down at my desk and head right into his office.

I sat in his hard wooden chair on the other side of his desk. He stood up and looked out his front window. After a deep breath, he says, "First-grade teacher Kaliope Gray has gone missing. The last time anyone has seen her was last Friday when she left for the weekend. Police have checked her home and don't see anything out of place. See what you can find out."

I didn't want to waste any time. I grabbed my pen and small pocket notebook and continued to her home. I pulled up to see the red and blue lights everywhere. Through the glare of the lights, I noticed an old friend of mine, Detective Shepard.

Shepard has been a veteran detective with Talavoy PD for 23 years. We have worked on many cases together. He would investigate and I would write the story.

As I approached, Shepard called out to me, "Randy!" He waved me over and introduced me right off to his new rookie partner, Sloan. "Sloan had just started with the division 6 months ago." I shook the rookie's sweaty hand. You could tell he has only been on a hand full of investigations.

"What do you got Shepard?" I asked. "Well, Randy, you know I can't give you many details, but Mrs. Gray didn't show up to her classroom today. The school states it's unlike her and asked for a wellness check. She wasn't here, and after asking around, nobody has seen or heard from her since Friday."

I was writing down everything he was telling me. He did state, "We found a little black book on her kitchen table wide open with a few names in it. We are going to pursue these names and see if they know anything. I can't tell you anything else."

That was Shepard and his vague statement, but with it being an open investigation, I understood. I stood on the sidewalk and looking over the yard and house visually. Her car was still in the driveway untouched. Where could the young teacher have gone?

I hopped in my car and headed back to the office to write the front-page article. It was due by 7 pm tonight so that they can print it by tomorrow morning.

It was about 4 pm. I got up to get another refill on my coffee from the pot. My desk phone rang. I sat down in my swivel chair and answered, "This is Wilcox."

It was Shepard. He wanted to give me the scoop. They are investigating two men that were in that black book. Derek Londorf and Brandon O'Malley.

It wasn't news to anyone that Mrs. Gray was a popular lady. Her husband, William Gray, passed away overseas in the war and left her young and widowed. As sad as it was, men started lining up at her door. She wasn't ready for any type of relationship, but she wouldn't turn away friends.

Kaliope was always a tough and smart girl. She had "guts," is what some men would say. They also said that's what attracted them to her. Although, sometimes, she wouldn't answer her door.

Derek Londorf was the first one to be investigated. Londorf worked as an insurance agent at Smokey Ridge Insurance. It was the only Insurance agency that was open in our town. Many of our residents only went through them instead of traveling 20 miles to the nearest city.

When Shepard and Sloan showed up at Smokey Ridge Insurance, Londorf knew what it was about. The detectives stated he was shaken up from the second they walked in. He gestured for them to have a seat.

Londorf already knew what they were going to ask. He stated, "I haven't seen Kaliope. I have reached out to her to see if she would like to go out for drinks, but she kept denying me. She stated she wasn't ready to start dating. I told her that it would only be as friends, but she felt as if I had ulterior motives. The last time I talked to her was Monday afternoon. I asked her if she would join me Friday evening, but she again denied me."

Shepard sat back in his seat and folded his arms. "Did you get angry at her for denying you? Did you want to get her back for it?" Londorf tensed up and exclaimed, "Absolutely not! Friday night, I went to my brother's for a movie, and he can vouch for me!"

Shepard, at that time, nodded and smirked and said, "We'll see. Don't leave town, Londorf. We'll see ourselves out." The doorbell rang as they walked out. Londorf balled his fists as he watched them leave in their unmarked car.

Meanwhile, The clock on the wall of my office showed half-past six. It had been a long day, but my article was finally done. I sent it to the editor, grabbed my overcoat, and called it a night. As I was walking to my car, O'Malley's Irish Pub across the way caught my eye. I fixed my collar and headed for the door.

Brandon O'Malley was the second person of interest in Kaliope's disappearance. I had a few questions I wanted to press O'Malley for. The dinner rush was finishing up, and he was wiping a few tables. He noticed I grabbed a stool at the bar and made his way toward me.

"Hey Randy, how are you doing, man?" He asked as he approached the bar. As I took my overcoat off, I said, "Great O'Malley, Can I have a beer?" He grabbed a bottle from the icebox below and popped the cap for me. I thanked him and asked him, "Brandon, have you heard about Kaliope." He said, "Yeah, that's terrible, man, she's a real pretty girl. Too bad she didn't give me the time of day." I tilted my head and said, "What do you mean?" Wiping the bar, he stated, "Well, Randy, I did try to ask her out a couple of times, but she wasn't hearing it. She said that she wasn't looking for a relationship or to date anyone. That's why I was stunned to see her having drinks with Burke Yang."

Interrupting our conversation, a couple came in asking for two Jack Daniels on the rocks. He served the good-looking young couple and came back. He handed me a basket of peanuts, and I continued, "Burke Yang? Isn't he the guy who owns that dry cleaning business on the other side of town?" He nodded and said, "Yup, one and the same. They were in here last Friday night." I about spit out my beer in shock. It took O'Malley off guard when I slammed down a wad of cash and ran out the door.

I ran so fast that I about ran out of my shoes. I ran across the street to my office, where I called Shepard. "Shepard! It's Wilcox! Burke Yang of the dry cleaning business had drinks with Kaliope last Friday night!" Shepard wasn't surprised. "Thanks, Wilcox, but Ginger at the salon beat you to the punch. I'm already on my way to Yang's." I slammed the phone down and rushed to meet them there. But by the time they arrived, Yang was gone.

Shepard met Yang's assistant. The assistant allowed the two detectives to take a look around. He didn't think they'd find anything but starch and hangers. They wandered into Yang's office, and in his desk drawer was a letter. This letter was addressed to a bookie. Shepard put his glasses 0n, and the letter read,

"Grayson,

I know that my last few bets didn't go through. I am aware I owe you $15,000. Everywhere I look, I see your dogs on my tail. They have already dangled me by my feet from the Main Street Bridge. I want you to know that I will have your full amount in a few days. There are just a few things I need to take care of."

Signed,

Burke Yang"

From Burke's office, Shepard made a call to Derek Londorf to check and see if there was a life insurance policy for Kaliope Gray. Londorf checked his files, "Shepard, it does look as if Kaliope was given $20,000 for life insurance from her late husband, William Gray." Shepard knew at that moment this may be a homicide. But where are Yang and Kaliope?

After the investigation at Yang's office, things were at a standstill. We had no more information. Everyone went home for the night, but nobody slept. Sitting in my home office and smoking another cigarette. I'm looking over all the information under my desk lamp, trying to put things together. I stand up, and I'm pacing. I stop to grab a glass of whiskey when my phone rings, "This is Wilcox." It's Shepard, "Randy, We found a body. It's Kaliope. Some fishermen found her on the shore of Lake Talavoy." In shock, I sat down in my chair. He heard me stop breathing on the phone, "I know Randy, it's a shock for all of us, but we need to find Yang. Let me know if you hear anything." He hangs up.

I lay my head down on my desk and fall asleep. I wake up the next morning to my phone ringing. "Wilcox." It was Shepard again. "Wilcox, I have good news and bad news." I sat up. "Give me the good news first." Shepard continued, "We found Yang. But the bad news is we found him hanging in his office. He must have come back after we left. But somebody got him first. It must have been his bookie, Grayson. But the $20,000 isn't on him."

I got right up and went back out in yesterday's clothes. I needed to get to the office and report all of this to the editor and get it in black and white. I rushed into my office and opened my drawer to grab my pen and my little pad. But on top was an envelope with my name, "Wilcox" written on the front.

I looked around and shut my door. I sat in my chair and opened the envelope. Inside was a letter,

" Dear Mr. Wilcox

By the time you are reading this letter, I am most likely dead. I met Burke Yang in a bar a while back, and he kept pursuing me. After so many denials, he started to become violent. One day I saw him searching through my bedroom. He had located my safe. At that time, I knew he was searching for money. He had found the statement from my insurance company about the $20,000. I chased him out of the house but was too afraid to call the police. Every day, I saw him outside of the school. I felt as if he was trying to scare me. It was working. I was lucky enough to get to the bank and deposit the money. He caught me outside and told me that either I have the money for him tomorrow or he will kill me. But my husband taught me always to stand my ground. I will not give him the money. Instead, I give the check to you, so I know it will go where it is most needed. My husband put his life on the line for this country; this way, he still cares for it. Thank you, Mr. Wilcox.

Kaliope Gray"

I dropped the letter in absolute shock. I sat back and thought to myself that even in death, she's a beautiful and kind person. Kaliope Gray lived as an Elementary Teacher and caring for kids while on earth; now she can in death, as well. I decided to donate the money to the children's hospital. It will help to cure sick children. I smiled and shook my head.

I put the envelope back and shut my drawer. I Poured a small glass of whiskey and raised it high. "So long Kaliope, Say hi to William for me."

I emptied the glass and set it down. I swivel to look out my window when my phone rings. It's Shepard, "Randy. We have another body."

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About the Creator

Jasper Wolf

Founder/Owner of Howling Wolf Freelance Writing

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