Moira Alexander punched her desk in frustration. Her chair creaked ominously as she leaned back. Staring at the ceiling, she dug into her eyeballs with two fingers: making them water a little, trying to mitigate the strain from staring at her screen for hours. Dandelion, her midnight black cat, whined in protest, as her movement forced him to vacate her lap. With no relief evident, she groaned and turned her hands to study the ink she had tattooed on the backs. On her right the words ‘Never quit’ and on her left ‘This too shall pass” in plain English. The mottos were the only thing keeping her going some-days. Reminders that as bad as things seem, they could be worse, and to never quit trying to overcome. She never liked the idea of covering herself in words she didn’t understand. The plain words were comforting. It was bad enough that she did it weekly, at the request of her customers.

“Maybe I should just give it a rest: Work on that anchor and flower sketch for Steven instead. What do you think?” She muttered to the cat as he studied her; head tilted. No doubt contemplating making another play for her warm lap.

She jerked back upright, startling the cat further, to once more stare at her screen. The curser blinked at her accusingly. Criticizing her for her limp efforts in writing her plea to the people who had taken her niece. Be real Mo. Frank told you she is probably dead. It’s been over six years. She just couldn’t give up hope. Anita was the only family she, possibly, had left. Her older brother Theodore and his wife Joan were both gone. Teddy had re-upped after Anita’s disappearance and lost his life to an IED a year later. Joan had taken her own life with a razor in the tub months after Teddy. Moira fought the tears that gathered in her eyes as images of finding poor Joan rotting in the tub made her groan in renewed anguish as the loss hit her once more. The pain and guilt still felt fresh after all these years.

She looked back at the ceiling studying the water stained popcorn. I’m so sorry Joanie I was so caught in my own grief that I ignored yours. I pray god forgives your sin. She gave a heartfelt plea to the almighty for her sister-in-law’s wayward soul. Writing these new pleas every year and tracking down every possible lead or false sighting was painful. Never quit. Never quit, ignore the pain. It will pass. She reminded herself looking at her hands on the keyboard. Maybe. Studying what she had written on the screen she sighed heavily and slapped her face. Embrace the tears, she thought bitterly to herself.

Please, if anyone has any information on the whereabouts of my niece, Anita Alexander, please contact us on the missing and murdered women’s Pic-book page. You can find an artist’s rendering of how she might look now. With a picture, and description of how she looked when she went missing including what she was wearing at the time. If you have any information, please send us an email to the address below or on the website. I beg you please help us bring Anita home.

The blurb just felt lame, limp, and boiler plate. It was the same as practically every plea on the website and it made her want to groan in despair. She just couldn’t think of a way to express her pain enough to make the assholes bring Anita home. It irked her that the moderators insisted that she put in “an artist’s rendering” when it was her that did the rendering. Hell, the renderings of many of the others searching for their loved ones were her work. It was one of the few things that brought her more joy than her job at the tattoo parlor. The idea that someone might find their loved one because of her art thrilled her. She had spent months researching the methods involved with creating the renderings. It had helped make her one of the best portrait artists in her area.

Sighing once more Moira picked up her phone and hit the speed dial for Sergeant Frank ‘Tutu’ Peterson. on her home screen. The small pic of him chopping the head off a fish with a k-bar made her smile a bit. Frank had retired from the military shortly after Teddies death, when his enlistment was up, and joined the local PD. He was her contact with the missing persons program and a dear friend. He was a sociable guy that brought her more than a few of her clients. It often irked her that he treated her like a little sister, but she mostly blamed Teddy for that. No doubt he had told Frank to look out for her if anything ever happened to him. Frank was nothing if not a man of his word. The blasted fool couldn’t even promise Moira that he would find Anita, to make her feel better. It was always something like: ‘We will do our best to bring her home’.

“You got Frank.” His deep reassuring voice came through the phone.

“Hey it’s me.” Moira said roughly, once more creaking back into her chair.

“Hey Mo, sounds like you’re having a rough one. You do know it’s like 3 in the morning, right?” He grumbled to the sound of tossing sheets.

“Yeah, trying to update the plea for Anita and I’m drawing a blank. I’m tempted to just leave it the same as last year. I feel like shit about it.” Moira said despondently. Dandelion chose that moment to finally reclaim his place in her lap and settled down with a deep purr as she idly stroked him.

“Well there is no harm in reposting the same plea. However, if you want more time to step away and come back to it later, we can always change it down the road. It is a website.” She could hear the tolerant smile in his words.

“Sometimes I feel like I should just give it up Frank. Sometimes I think it would be easier; I just want her home; dead or alive. This not knowing is killing me.” She confessed with a bitter, guilty moan.

“I know. Remember, strength comes from what we endure. You can endure this. ‘Said it yourself, you’re all she has left; she needs someone that cares, to continue the search. I only have so much time work will allot me to pursue her case.” Frank reasoned steadily as he climbed fully into wakefulness.

Taking a deep breath Moira let it out slowly into phone. “Yeah, you’re right. Shit I’m just tired. Thanks Frank, I needed that. Just, post it as is. I’ll come back to it in a few days, and let you know if I want to change it.”

“Any time. I mean that, but next time? maybe try work hours. You have my schedule.” He replied with a tolerant chuckle.

“G-nite frank. Thanks again.”

“Night Mo.”

Staring at Dandelion in her lap she sighed again. “Well dandy love lion I think it's time we hit the hay. What do you think?” She asked. His response was to rub his head more forcefully into her hand; encouraging her to scratch harder.

“You’re no help.” She laughed and picked him up, flicked the light off and headed to bed.

“Maybe I just need to get laid.” She muttered to dandy as she stared at the ceiling encouraging sleep. Dandy jumped on her stomach and she started petting him again. She drifted off shortly after.

The Next morning Moira found herself standing in her bathroom staring at her reflection in the mirror. She poked lamely at the dark circles under her eyes and sighed. The tall woman staring back at her was beautiful but worn. Her cheeks slightly sunken making her nose and cheekbones more prominent. Small perky breasts that were just starting to lose the battle with age. Her dark auburn hair hung limp and frayed. Her normally bright ice-blue eyes looked dull and grey. Even her many tattoos looked forlorn this morning. She caressed the memorial tattoo for Teddy and Joan on her left bicep. I miss you guys; don’t worry I’ll find her if you haven’t already. The skulls with flowers sprouting out of them, with their names and dates below didn’t respond. She had used her skills at rendering to get a close to accurate representation of their actual skulls and did much of the work herself; with a co-worker helping her with the shading.

“You look like shit for 33.” She told her reflection. “Need to take better care of yourself.” Dandelion took that moment to rub up against her leg. “At least you still love me.” She said to the cat. “Or do you just want to be fed?” She asked as she found herself in a staring contest with the feline. “Fine.” she grumbled and made her way naked into the kitchen. The perks of living alone. Don’t need to dress on days off. She thought to herself. Maybe I should just go back to bed? Rub one out? Hmm choices! She laughed to herself. “Should probably get some work done. Still need to get Steven’s sketch done.” She told herself after feeding the cat.

After a bowl of cereal, she did her dishes and started work on the sketch: getting into the flow for a couple hours. When she finally finished, she surfed the web for a bit. Took care of herself. Then decided to take a nap. She woke to the sound of her email notification.

Groaning she pawed the bed beside her for her phone. Finding it she opened the app and glared at the screen. It took her a full five minutes for the short message to sink in. Once she could make sense of it, she reread it a good 5 times. “Shit this is as shady as fuck.” She muttered then read it again.

Moira Alexander. If you ever want to see your niece again be out front of 2113 Mayfair lane at precisely 615pm tonight. Be early and you will be rewarded.

That was it. No name, just a random alphanumeric email address that was probably a dead end. She checked the time, 2:30pm. At least it isn’t in 15 minutes she thought. Deciding, she forwarded the email to Frank then flipped to her home screen and hit his number; listening to it ring.

“Frank.” He said brusquely when he picked up.

“Hey, Frank, it’s me. Read the email I just sent you.” She said biting her lip. The hope was painful, it always was.

“K, sec.” He said shuffling around, there was a pause as he read. “Huh.” He said.

“Just huh? You usually have more of an opinion than that Frank.” Moira groused.

“You know how I feel about these kinds of tips Mo. This sounds like a trap. Someone wants you to be there, dancing to their tune. Can’t say what the game is, as it’s in broad daylight on a busy street, but they must have one. I will admit it’s suspicious being in the area Anita was last seen. Maybe they do know something, we haven’t let that detail go public.” Frank mused.

“So, you think It could be legit?”

“Maybe, but we are going to do this by the book. No going off half-cocked.” Frank tempered, putting caution into his voice.

“Well I’m going! I don’t care what you say.” Moira stated; her mind set. “Dandy needs his shots and the vet is a couple blocks down. I can take him in and stake it out for a couple hours. Two birds with one stone. I’m going to see if they have an opening. I can’t miss the chance this is real.”

“Mo, shit calm down, you have time. I’ll meet you at the veterinarian just bring your gun and that small go bag. Your permit is still good. If someone tries to grab you, you want options.” Frank reasoned.

“Fine dad!” she mocked.

“Don’t you go giving me lip young lady! The vet! Do not leave the vet until Johnny and i meet you there; appointment or no. Promise me Mo! I don’t want you going missing too.” Frank joked then cautioned.

“I promise.” She let out grudgingly.

“Fuck Mo. We’ve done this before, just follow the bloody rules.” Frank said exasperated.

“Fine. I’ll see you in a couple hours, big guy.” She said hanging up.

She called the veterinarian and they said they could fit her in. So, she had a shower, got dressed, loaded Dandelion into his carrier, stuck her gun in her purse with an extra magazine, put her boots on, and shouldered the small pack Frank insisted she carry: before heading out the door.