Chapter 14 – Derek
“Bioceutically Renewed ” was so far east
It was almost in the water. At the door a
Sweet-faced Asian lady
Expressed almost comic dismay.
“Customers privacy sacrosanct! You understand.
Sacrosanct.” But
Just when I would have recommended
Verne get more friendly
He went haughty.
“We’re talking about a missing person!”
“Are you police?’
“He’s the fiancé.” I tried reaching out to touch her arm –
Too naïve! She shrank away.
Verne swelled. “I’d like to see
The manager!”
We filled the tiny waiting room.
The employee backed away, alarmed &
Scurrying. I was embarrassed.
“She’ll call the police on US!”
I hissed at Verne.
“Flunkies never do. A British title excuses
Everything.” The frosty-eyed manager was neither young
Nor Asian, but when I said, “This is Lord Verne,
Mirabel’s fiancé and I’m her sister”
Her expression changed most notably.
How in our democracy could
Aristocrats be worshipped?
“Have you told the police?”
“There’s a waiting period,” Verne said
Smoothly. “We don’t want to wait.”
I put in, “We just want to find her! She was carrying
Valuables. We’re afraid that she’s in danger.”
Verne’s eyes raked me over,
As if I’m the enemy –
Willing me to pipe down.
We were ushered to the inner sanctum,
Unromantic room where filing cabinets threatened
Wooden chairs. Not much cash here.
Ms. “Operations Manager”
Consulted the computer.
“She signed up for our Wedding Package
But only made the first appointment. That was
Days ago. I understood – er – her fiancé
Was…someone different altogether.”
Verne paled, lost his breath.
Fell into a punitive chair.
Up to me to ask the questions.
“Short, fat, bald?”
“That’s the one.” The woman panicked
At her own audacity.
“Tells us what we need to know.”
Verne was gasping like a fish
And he was not a good color.
I thought he might stroke out.
“Contact numbers?”
“Contrary to policy. I’m sorry.
Her voice was cold, but her eyes were warm.
“May I get you a water?”
“Please,” said Verne. “Bottled, if possible.”
The moment she was out the door I raced
To the computer. “Last appointment was three days ago!”
I took a screenshot with my phone.
Ms. Harvey returned with a bottle of chilled water
which Verne accepted. I was rescued
By the ringing of my phone.
“I’ve got to take this.”
Stepped into the hall.
“Hi,” said a deep masculine voice.
“This is Derek Lowther. Is that Richenda?”
Derek Lowther? Last time I saw him he was a
Nightmarishly jerky twelve year old brat.
(And I an eleven year old sophisticate.)
He was NOT the person I’d hoped to speak to.
Pushed out through the anteroom and into
The pale winter sunshine.
Maybe Verne was right and he’d get further
Without me. “Yes,”
I told Derek unwillingly, “it’s me.”
“So what’s the emergency question?”
“Have you heard from Mirabel?”
He was genuinely astonished.
“Has anybody heard from Mirabel?
I certainly haven’t. I’m at the apartment.
Do you mean, did she call here?”
“Maybe you could find out
If your parents have heard anything?”
“They’re at a retreat in Sri Lanka. You can assume
The answer’s No. What’s the hurry?”
“Mirabel is missing.”
A beat of silence. I could hear his struggle to be polite.
“Wasn’t Mirabel always missing?”
“She came back. She was getting married.
Then she disappeared. Again.”
I have to admit it did not sound like an emergency.
Impossible to explain anything to a guy
I haven’t seen in 3 tumultuous years
Already I was angry at him.
“Sounds just like Mirabel to me. Wasn’t
Disappointing people stock in trade?”
That was impossible to argue with.
“Maybe something’s really happened to her this time.
She seems to have been juggling two fiancés –
Stealing diamonds and God knows what.”
I shouldn’t tell him anything.
Why couldn’t I seem to help myself?
Because I needed backup? Because
He was my age and would look
At Verne the way I did? I required
A human being to speak to
In this world of artificial masks.
“God. I’m sorry.” His voice really did
Sound sorry. “Do you want to come here?
Should I go there?”
“What could you do?”
I sounded like a five year old
Quivering on the edge of tears.
“Help you look? I’d do anything I can.”
I gave Derek the bridegroom’s address.
Speaking of the bridegroom, he burst through
The doors, arms full of literature and bottled water.
“Hotel coupons, flight discounts
Suggest where Mirabel might go.
Or where Ravi might stash her.
Liar! Bastard!”
I felt I must re-focus him..
“But did Ravi actually come to an appointment
Or did Mirabel only use his name?”
Verne paused to drink from his
Chilled bottle, flicking
Drops. “The appointments
Were just for her.”
So we were back to Lying Liar
Mirabel. Not so different –
As Derek pointed out –
From the way she’d always been.
We climbed dispiritedly into the car.
“Maybe she just wanted anonymity,”
I suggested, “And used the first name she thought of.
She didn’t want them to
Look you up.”
“But why keep it secret?” Lord Verne argued.
“Have you announced your engagement
Formally?”
“No. We just thought of it. No details yet.”
“Well you’re press-worthy,” I suggested
“And Ravi is not.”
Plus married!
I was guessing but Verne’s face relaxed.
“True,” he smugly said.
But eyed my phone suspiciously.
“So who was that?”
He seemed to yearn to take my phone
Check my calls. Poor Mirabel
I thought. But I was seeing a way out.
“Old friend of mine. He might be able to help –
He’s hacker smart,” I said
Sounding clueless,
Meeting us at the apartment.”
A storm settled between Verne’s eyes.
He needed to be
My focus of attention with
No competitors to mute his power.
Poor Mirabel.
Alysse Aallyn 
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