Knot A Trace: Part One

“And when did you last see her?” the Beta officer asks as he makes a police report. He’s far too calm about this for my liking, but I bite my tongue and try to remain as cordial as possible.

“Yesterday,” I say, watching as he fills out the paperwork. We’re both sitting at April’s dining room table. I sit directly across from him while Tammy stands with her arms crossed, a frown etched into her features.

April’s a spitting image of her. Tammy’s light brown hair is pulled into a low bun, and her eyes are the same shade of brown as her daughter’s.

There were just a few more years of age on her face—but she still looks youthful enough to be April’s older sister instead of mother.

“Yesterday…where?” the officer asks.

“At April’s Café. We both work there,” I add.

“And I own it,” Tammy pipes in.

At that, the officer puts down his paper and looks up at me. “Oh, you do? You have the best macarons, you know that?” He flashes me a grin. “That espresso one is incredible.”

I scoff and glance at Tammy, who narrows her eyes. “Officer, my daughter has been missing for almost twenty-four hours now,” she says slowly. “I would like you to advise us of the next steps.”

“Her scent is almost non-existent now,” I add.

He tilts his head at me, confused. “Her scent?” he asks.

I’m two seconds away from screaming at him. “Yes, her Omega scent. It’s very faded. So, whatever happened to her—”

“Okay,” he interrupts, giving me a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, we’re not going to conduct a search. It hasn’t even been a day yet, and there’s no clear sign of something happening to her.”

It takes me a moment to process his words, but when I do, I have to stop myself from leaping out of my chair.

“What?” I cry. “But she’s missing! Don’t you have to look for her? She’s not here, her car is stolen—”

“You don’t know if her car is stolen. She could be in it,” he says, shaking his head. “These don’t appear to be suspicious circumstances. Does she have a boyfriend or any other family members that she might visit?”

He says everything so nonchalantly that I want to cry.

“No boyfriend, and she has her mother and her stepfather,” Tammy says. “I’ve reached out to extended family already, and they haven’t heard anything. This is very out of character for my daughter. I cannot stress this enough, Officer.”

He continues to ask his questions, filling out a checklist. Tammy and I begrudgingly answer them, and I feel more useless by the second.

“Any history of drug use?” he asks, and I narrow my eyes.

“No. This isn’t normal. She’s gone,” I insist. “And we need your help to find her.”

“Look.” The officer sighs. “Miss—”

“Bloom. Skylar Bloom.”

“Miss Bloom,” he continues calmly. “I don’t doubt that you’re concerned for your friend, and you’re taking all the right steps. But we don’t have any suspicious activity that would warrant a police search,” he says gently. “We can’t take our units and spend days looking for someone that most likely is safe.”

I search his gaze, willing him to understand. He’s probably only a few years older than me, and his expression is patient as he regards me.

Please, I think. Please help us.

“But this isn’t like her,” I insist. “And why would she leave her purse here?”

“I don’t have the answers to that,” he says, shaking his head. “There could be a million reasons.”

I scoff and shake my head. He just doesn’t get it. April doesn’t do this.

“What do you suggest the next steps should be?” Tammy asks.

The officer’s expression brightens. “Organize your own search. Get the town involved. Everyone loves your café, and I’m sure people would be happy to help.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me his card. “Call me if something else does come up.”

I snatch the card from his hand, ignoring his kind eyes.

Logically, I understand what he’s saying. The circumstances aren’t suspicious enough to them, and they don’t know April personally.

But I do. And my gut instinct is telling me something is seriously wrong.

“I’m truly sorry about your friend. But the good news is, she’s most likely not missing,” he continues, standing up from his chair. “This happens, you know. People need breaks from their families and sometimes they take a vacation without telling anyone.”

“That doesn’t really help,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You don’t know her.”

“Well, now I know her appearance and what her car looks like. I’ll make sure the others do, too.” He stands up and nods at Tammy. “Thank you, ladies. Sorry your day isn’t going better. Please feel free to call me though if something changes.”

I fiddle with his card as Tammy walks him out. When I hear the front door close, I turn to her and frown.

“Am I making a bigger deal out of this than I need to?” I ask her. “I mean…maybe she’s fine, right?”

I shouldn’t be asking my best friend’s mother to reassure me, especially when it’s concerning her own daughter.

But, like always, Tammy is rational. “Reporting her is more of a precaution,” she says gently. “But the longer we can’t contact her, the more worried we should be.”

That’s when I notice it. Tammy is panicking as much as I am, but keeping her calm exterior. “I know my daughter,” she continues, “and if she’s in trouble, she’s more than capable of getting herself out of it. Just like you would, too.”

I give her a half-hearted smile. “This is so messed up, Tammy,” I mutter. “I know I’m not helping by panicking—”

“Which is why we have a plan,” Tammy interrupts me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “We’ll figure out where she is.”

I nod. “Okay.”

Internally, I’m screaming.

“I’ll help with the café for the next few days, too,” she continues. “Until we get all of this sorted. We’re going to find her, honey, I promise.”

I want to believe her.

But the putrid feeling in my gut only grows as I head back to the café.

Something terrible has happened.

I just know it.