Found Missing: Day 6

 Word Count: 36,085

Summary of Events:

A week or so after Mr. Scheffler's visit Dallas was called by him and told that Mr. Scheffler had some daily journals his father had written which might have some clues about the gold chain to see if maybe it was what the kidnapper wanted, but the journals were written in German, which Mr. Scheffler couldn't read, having gone to school in Canada. Dallas asked his grandmother if she could read German — since he knew she was of German heritage — and when she confirmed she could he asked if he could bring the journals over to her on Sunday to read, and she agreed, so Dallas picked up the journals in Saskatoon on Sunday morning and arrived at his grandparents' house just in time for lunch . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“So this is for an investigation?” Ded asked.

“Yes,” Dallas replied. “We’re looking for the motive in them.”

“So the person who wrote them is the criminal?” Ded asked.

“Not in this case, no,” Dallas replied. “His daughter, actually, is the victim, but we’re suspecting that maybe she was victimised because he victimised someone else.”

“Oh,” Ded said.

“Because otherwise we have no reason why she was victimised,” Dallas said. “So we’re looking anywhere we have a chance of finding anything.”

Ded nodded. “Is she deceased?”

“No,” Dallas replied. “Not that we know of, anyways.”

“That is good,” Ded said. “But I am surprised that you are involved in this investigation. I thought you just pulled over cars and went to accidents.”

“Well, I’m the one who, kind of, found the case, so . . .” Dallas replied, feeling the prick of guilt he always felt when he tried to lie to Ded or Oma, not that he was sure why, he wasn’t lying — even if he hadn’t exactly told Det. Sgt. Shaw about this information yet.

“Found it?” Ded asked.

“Yes,” Dallas replied. “I found her dog dead in a snowbank, so I went to tell her and I couldn’t find her, and we eventually discovered that she’d been missing since January.”

“And nobody reported it?” Ded asked.

“Nobody realised they hadn’t seen her in that long until I started asking them,” Dallas replied.

Ded looked baffled. “How old is she?”

“Um, she’s five years older than you,” Dallas replied.

“Oh,” Ded said. “That makes sense. I was trying to figure out how you lose a little girl for three months without noticing.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer about that,” Dallas replied, laughing in his embarrassment at having that exceedingly vague.

“So then her father is dead?” Ded asked.

“Yes,” Dallas replied. “Yes.”

“Then she is living on her own, and that makes more sense,” Ded said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Dallas said. “I don’t know how much I should let you know for details, but, at the same time, I don’t need to be that vague.”
“At least it was to me and not a reporter,” Ded said.

“Yes, yes,” Dallas replied. “That would’ve been terrible.”

Oma entered the room soon with the bowls of peas and potatoes, followed by the pitcher of milk, the pot of coffee, and finally the pot of meatballs swimming in the gravy.

“I’m only one person Oma,” Dallas said. “And I’m pretty sure I’m not growing anymore.”

“This is Oma Dallas,” Ded said. “She means to send you home with leftovers.”

Dallas smiled as he got to his feet with Ded, who drew back Oma’s chair for her and pushed it in before he and Dallas retook their seats.