Missing

Iverson thumbed through his notepad, stopping to circle words, add stars to things that might be important or needed to be followed up on. It was Missing Person Thursday as he liked to call it, the only day of the week he cared to even humor the notion that a missing person might be found.

He usually went through the stack, entering the information into the database to confirm that the subject was indeed still missing. Rarely the system would throw up a recent picture of the subject with the single word: Located. It had been "Found" but the new administration thought that particular word lent itself too much to Christian connotations and was dropped from the Missing Person Lexicon. Other words were swapped out, too. Rescued for saved, extraordinary for miracle. Iverson didn't care, it wasn't as if he had to run out and pull the Jesus Fish off the back of his car. He felt it important to mouth the words Because there wasn't one, slowly and pointedly, to himself.

Iverson had been three deep into the stack when he came across a folder for a subject named Dorge Kas. The name sounded vaguely familiar, or maybe with a name like that he just thought it did. The subject hadn't been missing long, but long enough not to expect much. Iverson thought about what a grown man's jaw line looked like after three months of lying in a ditch. Then he wrote lying vs. laying and a question mark on a clean sheet of paper in his note pad. Then after a moment, Dorge Kas, and, male, to remember what "Dorge Kas" was.

The person that had filed the Missing Persons Report had only given the name "Slim". How'd they let him get away with that? The signature line read RBP. Reported by Phone.

Slim. Well, sounds like Mr. Kas is likely at the bottom of the Bakersville River with a gambling debt if someone named Slim is looking for him.

There was more in the file, an envelope with KAS PROP. FAS and then the date. Inside was a small green calculator. Why was this important? Found at what scene? Who in the hell carries a calculator?

Iverson turned to the console and tabbed to the Subject line. Who indeed?