The old woman followed me when I left the hair salon. She was smoking, and she let the door slam behind her. I didn’t notice her tailing me right away because my heart was still racing after lunch.


    I hadn’t eaten a bite, but I felt vigorous..


    A voice behind me said, “You got a light?”


    She had tailed me a few blocks by then, and I heard her rasping breath.


    I wasn’t in the mood to talk so I ignored her and turned sharply on my heel, strolling down a side-street, where some pop-up shops and a couple of drab apartment buildings filled our view.


    Pedestrians meandered from shop to shop, picking through the rubbage nicknacks.


    “Hey. Gimme a light.”


    She raised her voice this time. The woman was in her late-sixties, wrinkled and leather-skinned.


    She had one arm.


    “How’d you get a light for that one?” I said over my shoulder.


    Dropping the cigarette, she stamped it out mid-stride. “The girl at the counter lit it for me,” she mocked. “Now wait up.”


    I kept walking at the same, even pace.


    “They let you smoke in there?” I said.


    She snorted. Was she breathing hard.. “They did when I showed them my carry.”


    I stopped. “I remember you. You’re Beverly Gimble.”


    “Bev.” She scowled at me, not quite catching her breath.


    “What is Bev short for then?”


    She didn’t answer. “Do you know why I’m here?”


    “Bevel?”


    “You don’t. Do you?” She snarled and stepped an inch closer to me.


    “Hey take it easy.” I raised my hands defensively. “Maybe…” I looked around hopefully, “You’re here to talk?”


    The street was crowded with shoppers. A cop car prowled on the far side of the street, passed within Bev’s field of view. The old crone leaned in close, hunching over, and pulled me along with her. “Listen you little brat. I don’t have long to chit chat. What do you say we step inside and talk. I’ve got a job for you.”


    “And I thought you were here to make amends.”


    “There’s a kid went missing, fifty years ago.”


    “Fifty years ago. You had me until ‘Fifty years ago’. What kind of job—?”


    She smiled. “No working journalist would take it.”


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    “Yeah, fifty years ago isn’t timely.”


    “But you’re not working, are you?” Bev cocked an eyebrow at me.


    “Hey. I’m working on that.”


    “You’re unemployed, aren’t you? Just like the old days.”


    “When I was a kid.”


    “So listen up. Before the little boy went missing, his stepdad died of, quote, ‘natural causes.’ Unquote. But there was never an autopsy. No professional examined the body. Now his daughter—His stepdaughter, that is—saw what happened with her own eyes.”


    “OK. How old was she?”


    “Old enough to remember what she saw.”


    I sighed. “A kid doesn’t make a reliable witness. Not that anybody does.”


    “Well she’s not pressing charges. She has no intention of taking this to court. But it’s a lead, that’s all. A place to get started.”


    She went on smoking.


    “Well? What did the little girl see?”


    “A five-year-old kid isn’t very strong, but the stepdad was sick… She thinks the old man was asleep, and the little boy throttled him.”


    “If you think I’m gonna take this job you’re not thinking.” I spat the words.


    The cop car pulled to the curb. Bev dragged me into a clothing shop. The door triggered a chime somewhere at the rear of the store.


    “Hey take it easy will you. I’m a big girl now and I might just push you back.” A hint of malice brushed the edges of my tone.


    Bev’s voice was muted by the clothes all around us. She kept on at a whisper. “I would gamble my left arm, the boy’s still alive. He’d be grown up, but that’s beside the point, Eliza. This job went off the market very quickly. Now isn’t that interesting? Why do you think it went off the market so quickly?”


    “Somebody got the job,” I said flatly.


    “Maybe. Maybe somebody got the job. But you and I move fast. If we got to the truth first…”


    “No.”


    “Think before you speak. What do you mean no?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You and I—we go back. You know what I can do.”


    She pressed the knuckles of her right hand into the fabric of her pants. The knuckles cracked, one by one.


    “And Eliza, if you don’t want to hear from me again—and I respect that… just say the word. You won’t hear from me again after we wrap this up.”


    “It’s that much money, huh?” I glanced out the window. Two cops were interviewing a distracted crowd.


    “Hmph. In the right neighborhood, I could retire off it.”


    “You mean Florida?”


    She shrugged.


    “Jesus. God. You should move to Florida, Bev. You’d love it.” I cracked a smile.


    “Think about the job, Eliza Bailey.”


    “I have been thinking. Why’s it pay so much?”


    Bev’s hand dismissed me. “Discretion, urgency, sentiment. The old girl misses her little brother. Who knows.”


    “Ok, fine. I’ll consider.”


    We shook hands.


    Mulling things over, I stood a while in the shadow of the brick apartment building.


    The street crowd sighed. Seagulls fussed overhead, dive-bombing for French-fries. The wind was fine and crisp.


    A man walked in front of me with a half-eaten hotdog. A young girl in white jeans walked the other way.


    When they had passed, I turned my back to the wall and pulled my phone out of my butt pocket.


    Turning the brightness way down, I opened my email and scrolled until I found ‘Pamela Adams’ and opened her email. It was the same brief, alright.


    “Beverage,” I addressed the place where Bev Gimble had stood. “You were right, old girl. Someone did get the job.”


    I tilted my head back, breathing in the night air through a monstrous grin. It was getting late. At this time, the sky produced a cerulean blue horizon, and the moon hung in a waxing crescent the color of fogged diamond.


    The night breeze caused my mind to wander as it often does. I found myself thinking about the moon, how the shape of the moon is just an illusion created by shadows. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to realize what was different about it.