#64— Dead or Alive
Someone Forgot To Ask How
The great disappearance of Victor C.
More restless than an armadillo, Esmeralda had arrived in Cazloncillos, Nevada, three days prior. She knew who, she was where, and she had a good idea of the what, but WHEN eluded her.
WHEN would Victor be there?!
His last name, Cardenas, meant antique clock in old Catalan. Victor was always on time.
“Why are you late, Victor?” Esmeralda asked the coat hanger standing in the southeast corner of her hotel room. She had moved it there herself. It was for feng shui. “Did you meet with Senorita Troubles during your investigation?” Esmeralda added, quickly adding an ice cube to her cocktail to lower the heat of her question.
Her phone pinged. She jumped on the bed and carefully unlocked the screen without moving the phone because it was in charge, and the cable was old and splintered. It was a message from a mysterious sender called Varden As Cictor.
It changed everything. Esmeralda had a new who (is Smillew?) and a new what (is Kudzu?).
After a quick packing interlude, she was in her car, ready to go (she had used the express check-out box near the reception desk to avoid losing time and having to explain herself to the concierge).
Esmeralda switched on the navigation system. It would take her 35 hours to reach the parking in Scottdale’s city center (Georgia), and an additional seventeen-minute walk would get her to the Kudzu Antiques shop on Ponce De Leon Avenue.
She had the Who, the What, the Where, and the When. The Why was a phone call away.
“Hey, Annacita, I need your guidance; tell me WHY.”
Five minutes later, a message arrived on Esmeralda’s fax machine (the one in the glove compartment, not the one in the trunk):
Grandma Smillew loves her afternoon cup of cocoa, scrabble, and her grandson, Smillew Rahcuef. She’s also a pink belt in social media and marketing strategies. If you want to make her happy, follow her on Medium and write for one of her publications: All About Medium and Grandma Power.
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