The Woman in Blue

Dale placed the gift in the guest room. It was a collector’s Barbie doll in a metallic magenta gown that she knew Misha would just love. Today was her birthday. It had been just over eight long, agonizing months since Misha’s kidnapping. Even so, she bought her gift and would continue to do so for each birthday and Christmas that Misha wasn’t with her to share. Hot tears spilled over her eyelids and down her face. Then, if she were ever found and found alive… “She will be found, and she will be alive!” Dale told herself out loud. She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty, but she did. After all, wasn’t she supposed to be Misha’s protector? Then why couldn’t she have been home that day, damn it! Suddenly, she felt a strong urge to get out of the house. She headed for her parents’ place and visited with them for a few hours before returning home. They had been a wonderful support since Misha was taken. As she drove up the driveway, she noticed Grogan’s car parked to the side. Her heart started to thud against her chest as she threw the car in park and hopped out to find Grogan at her front door. The short, plump blonde was casually dressed. “Hi there.” “Hi. Got anything?” “We might.” Dale’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but we’ve been getting tons of calls in regards to Kinkade’s picture that’s been in the papers and on TV, and we’ve been following up on all kinds of leads. Unfortunately, most of them lead nowhere.” “And?” “Well, there’s a woman about a hundred and forty miles from here that says she swears she recognizes Gail’s face from her hardware store, but that she’s only seen her twice.” “Yeah?” “Also, the woman swears she has long red hair and not medium dark hair.” “So,” said Dale, “she could be wearing a wig.” “She probably is.” “Did you get this woman’s name and address?” “Of course.” “Let’s go, then.” “Dale, it’s 9:00 at night.” “I don’t care what time it is. This is my lady we’re talking about. Either we go together or I go by myself, Grogan.” Grogan appeared to think through the situation as if deciding what to do. “Ciara,” she finally said. “It’s Ciara.” “Ok, Ciara, are we in this together?” “Sure. I’ll drive.”

It was nearly 11:00 when they arrived at the potential witness’s home. At first, they thought no one was home, but then the lights went on inside the house. “Who is it?” “It’s Detectives Richardson and Grogan, Mrs. Briggs.” The door opened with the chain lock still in place. A woman in her sixties peered out cautiously at them. After the two detectives showed the woman their identification, the woman shut the door, slid the chain off, and then opened the door to allow them entry. “Thank you, ma’am,” said Dale. “We’re so sorry to disturb you this late, but it’s very important.” “Oh, it’s quite all right. Have a seat.” Dale and Ciara sat on an old, worn couch. “Would you two like some tea or cocoa? Perhaps even something cold to drink?” “No, thank you,” they said at once. “Mrs. Briggs,” Dale began, “the young woman who’s missing is very near and dear to me, and I need your help urgently.” “Well, I’d be glad to try, though I don’t know what more I can say other than what I already said earlier.” “You own a hardware store, correct?” Dale asked. Mrs. Briggs nodded. “I took over the store full-time after my husband’s death last year.” “Is there anything more you can remember and tell me about the woman fitting the description on TV?” Mrs. Briggs appeared to be thinking about it. Finally, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Detective.” “Ok then,” said Dale, “here’s what we’ll need you to do. If you ever see her again, the first thing I want you to try to do is to see if you can find out her name. If you feel funny simply asking for her name, use a catch like a raffle or something. Say there’s going to be a drawing for either money or perhaps some store supplies and see if you can get her to write down her name to enter the so-called drawing.” “Ok,” said Mrs. Briggs. “Try to do it in the most casual and discreet way possible. Never let her know you suspect her of anything.” Mrs. Briggs nodded. “The next thing you’ll want to try to find out is where this woman lives. Again, use the bogus raffle as a tool if you have to. If we can narrow the woman’s residence down to a community within a town or even a specific town, it may help us a lot.” “Ok, I’ll do my best,” Mrs. Briggs promised. With renewed hope, Dale and Ciara headed back to Ukiah.

“Next time you run away from me like that, I really will kill you!” threatened Gail as she tied Misha to the bed. “Gail, please! Please don’t do this to me!” “Shut up, or I’ll whip your ass again. Besides, I have to go now. I promised Susie I’d see her tonight. She needs me.” Gail plucked a tissue from the Kleenex box that sat on the nightstand and dabbed at the drying blood on Misha’s lip. “Ow!” “Oh, don’t be such a baby!” Gail got up to throw the tissue in the bathroom pail, then headed downstairs and out the door. After a few minutes of lying in the dark, Misha realized she had never heard the garage door open or the car’s engine. She eventually escaped into the deep recesses of sleep where she saw Dale’s smiling face, heard her warm laughter…

Gail pulled the car up to the front of Briggs’ Hardware bright and early the next morning. When she exited the car, she marveled at what a glorious spring day it was. “Hi there,” said the same jovial woman she’d seen the last time she was here. “Hello,” Gail said with a smile. “How are you?” “Oh, I’m just fine this morning. Gearing up for the raffle.” “Raffle?” “Yes, I’ll explain it all to you after you’ve finished shopping. Anything I can help you with?” “No, thank you. I’m just here for a new hammer.” “New hammer, huh?” “Yes, I decided it was time to redecorate, and my old hammer is a bit small.” “Oh, got a place around here?” “No, it’s about thirty miles away. I just come here because I live in such a remote area and there’s a wonderful selection of stores in this area. I don’t get in too often, though. That’s because I usually stock up really well.” Gail chose the hammer she wanted and approached the lady behind the counter. “So what’s this about a raffle?” “Oh, yes, yes,” said the woman, picking up a sheet of bogus names and addresses attached to a clipboard. She’d had several of her friends fill out made-up names and addresses so that there’d be various forms of handwriting on the sheet. “I’m having people write their names and addresses so I can mail them a letter to notify them if they win.” “Win what?” asked Gail with both curiosity and caution. “The $500 cash prize,” Mrs. Briggs said with the brightest smile she could muster. “Oh, how interesting. Never heard of a hardware store raffle.” “Well, you have now. You see, I lost my husband last year.” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” “And so I decided to do this as a way of attracting more business.” Mrs. Briggs tried to control her rapid heartbeat as she set the clipboard in front of Gail. “Here you go, ma’am. Enter yourself in the drawing by filling out the information, and good luck.” Gail stared at the clipboard hesitantly. It looked legitimate enough. “Sure, why not?” she finally said. “I don’t exactly need the money, but why not?” “Don’t need the money? Wow, I’ll bet most people wish they could say that for themselves!” Although quite relieved and grateful to have gotten the information, Mrs. Briggs was still a bit nervous. She willed her fingers to stop trembling as she took the clipboard back and quickly glanced down at it. She quickly memorized the address just in case the woman decided to change her mind and scribble out what she’d written. Gail turned to leave, stopping dead in her tracks for a moment midway between the woman and the door. She was still the only customer in the tiny shop. She turned to glance briefly at Mrs. Briggs. Mrs. Briggs’ heartbeat quickened. She didn’t dare reach for the cigarette she had in a nearby ashtray for fear of her trembling hand giving her true intentions away. “Have a good day,” she said instead, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “You too,” said Gail, turning to leave the store. Just as soon as Mrs. Briggs saw the woman get into her car and drive away was as soon as she picked up the phone. When Dale’s own phone rang not too long afterward, she snatched it up immediately but never got a chance to say hello. “We got her, we got her!” “Oh my God!” exclaimed Dale. “Where is she?” “She’s up in Siskiyou County in Yreka,” Ciara explained. “It’s about a hundred and eighty miles north of here, right under the Oregon border. It’s a small town, about twelve square miles.” “Yes, I know the place. Did anyone contact the locals up there?” “Not yet.” “Good. Where are you?” “I’m calling from my cell phone. I’m about two minutes from your place.” “I’ll be waiting.” Dale hung up. Elated, she grabbed her purse and weapon and ran out the door.