Just Another Missing Person Novels & Stories

The urge to learn more about Ginger gnawed at him, and he didn't know why he was so curious about her. After a moment's hesitation, he typed her name into the search box of the National Database. He had learned her name this morning from the building mailbox she had been assigned to in her apartment, and by her accent he had narrowed it down to Southeast. He froze as a two-week old missing person's report from Nashville, filed by Valerie Peet, listed Willa Peet as a minor, came in. It didn't say much about the circumstances surrounding her disappearance, but her mother had provided color photos, one of which was a recent yearbook photo of Willa. Neither of the girls had any criminal records,

My fingers balled into tight fists on the table. This son of mine had become a thorn in my own flesh and something had to be done.. “Besides, we already have enough problems to deal with,” he added. “What do you mean?” He let out a low exhale. “I think there’s someone out there doing exactly what we’re doing.” I frowned. “Out of all the missing people, not all were taken by us. There are at least four people who have been reported missing that we have no connection to.” “Oh,” I mumbled, looking away. “Really?”

She ignores me and takes out her phone and starts dialing a number, “Hello 911, I think I may have found a girl who’s been reported missing.” I hear the operator asking on the other side, “Where are you, Ma’am?” “I’m standing in front of the Walmart in Rochester, Minnesota,” she answers. “Can you give me a description of the girl and her name?” the operator asks. “I think it may be Jocasta Mellon, the little girl that went missing two years ago, but.” Before she can finish her sentence, my mom, with a furious look on her face, knocks the phone out of her hand and stamps on it until there are just shards left over.

It was a nice gesture, one that helped calm the last of her tremors. “Grace, so many people are going missing, I’m sure you’ve seen the reports on TV. If you can tell us anything at all that will help lead to what has been going on, it will be appreciated.” Zander sighs, sliding into the booth next to me, finally realising that his pissy mood isn’t getting us anywhere. So far, between Charwood, Liverpool, and Riverview, about 100 people have gone missing. It’s a massive amount in the three months since the attack on the school. We’re getting desperate. We want to check over every other lead we can before we seek out the witches.

“What? Why?” “Don’t go running.” Grabbing his shoes, Jim sat on the edge of the bed. “Unless you’re escorted, I don’t want either you or Zoe out alone, not even with the dog.” He felt her hand on his shoulder, urging him to look at her. Sighing at her expression, he looked at the bedcovers. “It’s a twenty-two-year old college student that’s missing. Possibly abducted.” “Oh no.”

When her mother finished searching the neighbourhood and got round to informing the police, the internet had already forgotten that eighteen-year-old Ava Morgan had ever lived. The emergency communications center erupted into controlled chaos. Detectives hurried between glowing monitors while voices overlapped with the constant ringing of telephones. Missing-person cases arrived every day. None had ever begun with a database refusing to acknowledge that the victim existed. Officers searched national identity records, transportation logs, hospital files, school enrollment systems, and immigration databases. Every search returned the same chilling result. No Matching record found. Uneasy glanc

"Okay, Josh. Our standard procedure for a missing person report requires that the individual has been unaccounted for for a minimum of twenty-four hours. She may have decided to visit home, or sneaked off campus for personal reasons." I stared at him. "She wouldn't go anywhere without her phone." "People forget their phone sometimes." "Not Serena." Mira chipped in. "She wouldn't leave without it. She wouldn't leave without telling anyone." The officer exchanged a brief look with one of his colleagues. "We understand your concerns," the second officer said. "But at this stage, there's no evidence of foul play. It's possible she stepped out for air and lost track of time. Or made arrangements

Me being drunk makes it easier for him to take control when I can’t. “Saint, apologize.” I warn him. “She didn’t do shit to you.” “Not in this lifetime, she didn’t.” He growls back. “Not yet, anyway.” "I'm sorry about him, Leni." I stand up and put a hand on her shoulder so I don't lose my balance. "Next job is related to the spreadsheet" "Oh?" She looks interested when she stands up. "Missing girls." I flop back onto the bed and close my eyes. "Families want them back, but aren't in a hurry to find them."

If this were a regular bus stop there would be a lot of people loitering behind her, or sitting on the benches, but that's not the case, so every day Eric could watch her sitting alone under the same tree stump near a busy street. Her family was very poor, a second most important factor after beauty. It will be easier for the poor to disappear, even in America. And especially when the missing person is old enough to run away from home. That is the most common reason given by the authorities whenever a person cannot be found. Surely they left.

“Understood. It’s just that I only handle certain kinds of cases.” “Okay, so . . . this is about helping him find someone. Call it a missing persons case.” “Someone?” “A monk. A former student of Jigme Rinpoche.” “He wander off and get lost in Manhattan? That sounds like a job for the police. I’m not a police detective. You know that, right?”