Detective Pam Murray tilted her head slightly. Then with an intense stare looked at her own bright blue eyes reflecting back in the blotchy mottled mirror. She had to chuckle; a colleague had badly taped a string of old green weathered tinsel around the frame. It was at least a nod to the season. She took a deep breath as she started to aggressively brush her long blond hair. She was standing in the small gray painted, far too small to be functional ladies changing room at the station. Pam was just about on time to go on shift. She hated night shifts in December, every night was party night. What made it especially worse was the weather forecast was not looking good, as well as dealing with the loud boisterous drunken men and shrieking women, she had to fake Christmas cheer and that was just to her male colleagues.
With her hair done and the brush securely back in her bag, knocking her cheeky, but needed, cigarette pack to the side slightly. Then she tugged and pulled her blue shirt over her large cupped underwired almost industrial black bra. It served a purpose, tonight it did not need to be sexy. Her panties were red and covered in sequins, but no one got to see them. That was just for her. However, she wished it was not the case. As she hadn't shaved her legs for a while, she was grateful for small mercies. Deeply breathing to stay calm then focused on doing the small fiddly white buttons up. It always took a little bit of concentration, before she put on the clip-on regulation black tie. With a deep breath she used her long fingers and firmly tucked everything in. The black belt around her waist was holding everything tightly in place. Pam looked at her face once more, nodded and smiled at herself. She was tired, her bags under her eyes were deeper than usual. Her crow's feet were growing. Getting scared that they might start to grow legs. With a deep reluctant breath and using the black elasticated hairband around her wrist to tie her hair up into a tight ponytail, keeping it out of her face and neck. With another check in the mirror, she was almost ready for work.
Pam practically jumped out of her skin as there was a loud bang that echoed in the empty room. It was a fist on the closed metallic door.
"Hey Murray, I'm guessing you are in there, there is a new job, just perfect for you!" The voice of her superior sergeant Glen Hicks boomed through, as his fist, again, thumped loudly against the closed door.
"On my way!" She replied as she pushed her fingers into the hem once more, making sure that she had tucked her shirt into her regulation dark blue trousers and that nothing would escape. Looking down she tutted, then grunted as she knelt down, did her shoelaces back up and looked at her bag and smiled before retrieving her Marlboro Lights cigarette pack sliding it into her pocket, then on standing up, with one final glance back to the mirror and a straighten of her tie between the collar of her shirt with a preparation of deep breath she headed out the door.
"What's the deal?" she asked as she fell in step with Glen as they walked back towards his office.
"There is a perfect investigation for you."
"Oh, why?"
"As it's nearly Christmas, it is bar based."
"What?" Her heart fluttered.
"We've been informed that women visiting O'Reilly's bar are going missing." Hicks chuckled to himself. "Their bit on the side has clearly claimed them as a present." He chuckled again. "Murray, you like cruising the pubs?"
Pam scowled back, "Ha bloody ha, it was only a few drinks the other weekend?"
Hicks rolled his eyes and continued chuckling, "Yes, so I heard, every weekend dancing all night on the tables again, did you manage to keep your clothes on?"
"Err, yes. Mostly. It was a good night". She beamed her wicked almost flirtatious smile as the memories circulated.
Hicks shook his head dismissively. "Anyway, I thought you would like this job..." he stopped as he still chortled to himself.
"I love drinking in O'Reilly's but haven't been, like, for a while!"
"It's for work Murray, not pleasure!"
Pam rolled her eyes as she grinned, "I know, so, is it kidnapping?"
Hicks shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated way. "We don't know at the moment. This is now a second report of someone visiting the bar, one Trisha McFarlane, thirty-five-year-old woman. She has not come home to her husband for a whole twenty-four hours now."
"A repeat offender, kidnap, or murder?"
"Good question, potentially both, no sign of a body. We need you and Detective McQueen to head down there and investigate."
"Who are we looking for again?"
"Trisha McFarlane, a florist by trade. Here is her Facebook profile."
Pam rubbed her hands together in anticipation and grinned and stared intently at the phone screen before grinning. "Oh, she is pretty, and I do like flowers, also talking of pretty, I didn't know Nelly was on tonight."
Hicks momentarily raised a confused eyebrow... "Yeah, she is. Catch up with her, she is bound to be in the canteen or knowing her, near the chocolate vending machine, when alone she never gets that far from it. Once you have found her get down to O'Reilly's".
"Will do, out of interest, when was the first report of someone going missing?"
"A month ago, we just assumed she had gotten drunk, and stumbled into a gutter somewhere, but as of yet no body has been found. We have never opened a murder investigation. They have stayed as a missing person."
Pam sucked in some air thoughtfully tapping her fingers on her hips as they stopped walking outside his office. She smiled and nodded at him "McQueen and I will solve this, Hicks."
"Great. Remember you are at the bar for work.
"Yes boss!" She saluted as she grinned. "I only drink after hours."
"Exactly what I thought!" He smiled in agreement. Then he realized the time and was about to say something, then stopped.
***
"Hello?" Trisha called out, her voice disappearing into the darkness as she slowly looked around the room. There were glistening slivers of white light shining through the wooden slatted walls. It was highlighting the dust hanging and spinning in the still air. She called out again, her voice echoing around her. "Is there anyone here?" She shouted. The silence that shouted back was deafening. The thoughts of it all send a shiver down her spine. Looking around trying to get her bearings in the blackness. With deep breath and a sigh, she fought the trepidation as she carefully got up. The toilet seat behind her was gone. She wrapped her arms around her body. Trisha was standing there completely naked. She shivered again. Confusion reigned across her face. Her clothes had also disappeared. She couldn't remember undressing. She had only a couple of drinks. Breathing hard as she looked behind her. The bathroom had completely vanished. Replaced by complete emptiness.
What seemed only a few minutes ago that she was in the bar having a drink or two, hiding from her over-excited children. The school seemed to wind them up like a coiled spring. There was also a stressed husband. Sitting and just chatting with the regulars was far more pleasurable. There had been a plan, once home, to wrap presents tonight. But she had, with the finishing of the second glass of wine, ruled that one out. She had popped off the stool, gone to the bathroom, and had shut the toilet cubicle for a quick pee. When she dropped her dress back into position and had reached for the flush, as she pulled the handle, everything went dark and silent. She had closed and reopened her eyes several times in disbelief. Within seconds the bathroom had disappeared, along with her shoes and clothes.
She found herself sitting back down on some sort of prickly wooden tea chest of a box, rather than a smooth plastic toilet seat.
