Strange

Alec lifts his eyebrows as he sees pictures of Sage. He’d seen this woman before. That was interesting. This case was deeper than he thought.

Taking in all he can, he jots down some notes. He laughs at Frankie’s question. “Ha, no…just need this for a friend. It’s all good.” Closing his notepad, he nods with satisfaction. “You’ve been more than helpful, Frankie. Thanks.”


It had been four days…would Misty continue the pattern that Alec said she had? Carson hoped so.

He weaves between some tables until he spots the one he was looking for. Glad it’s unoccupied, he approaches it, seeing the engraving. This was the one.

Glancing around, Carson notes he’s early for lunchtime as hardly anyone is around yet. But that was fine by him…it gave him a chance to collect his thoughts before things progressed.

Sitting down, he props his feet up on the empty chair on the other side of the table. He drew just a little bit of attention, being dressed more casually then those in this area. His white muscle shirt was tucked into a pair of faded jeans, under an open red flannel shirt with rolled up sleeves. His baseball cap was pulled down low, hiding half his face. He could just see the entrance out of the corner of his eye.

Running a finger along the engraving, Carson’s mind wanders. What was he going to say? How would Misty respond? Would she hate him? He couldn’t blame her if she did. He had so many questions for her…would she give him enough time to ask them?

His apprehensiveness grows as he waits. He glances at his watch. More people were coming. It would be any time now. He keeps his focus on the table, his peripheral vision keeping track of everybody coming and going.

Suddenly his heart skips a beat. It takes all his power not to turn his head. He knew that face. It was her.

Carson’s pulse quickens, and he grits his teeth. The confused emotions still existed. Half of him wanted to get up and throw his arms around Misty, and half of him wanted to bawl her out. But he does neither. Instead, he just sits...waits...

Seeing Misty draw closer, Carson knows she’s looking for her table, but he remains motionless. She disappears from his line of sight, but he can hear her walk…he knows that step. As she approaches, he knows she’ll pass on by go to the next table, and calculates his timing.

Just as her figure comes into view, he reaches out, grabbing her by the wrist to stop her. His thumb runs along her bracelet, and he speaks without looking up. “Strange…wearing the name of someone deceived into thinking she was dead.” He shakes his head and tsks, finally raising his face to stare up at Misty from under the brim of his cap. “Now why would she do something like that?”