I glanced to either side of the street as I slowly drove north on Main. About half of the little shops had been around forever, places I recognized from my youth. The rest were newer. There were a lot more big chains here than there used to be, and fewer family businesses than I remembered.

This was my first time back in my old home town since my mother passed away eight years ago, and in a way it was refreshing to see how little the place had changed.

On the other hand, there were a lot more empty storefronts than I remembered. The pandemic hit tourist places hard, they basically lost two full summers. Things were finally opening up again now, but I suspected it was going to take a while for towns like this to fully recover.

It was the last week of September and there should have been a lot more traffic here, even on a Monday morning. This was peak leaf season, when city folk would normally head north to gawk at the autumn colours.

On the other hand, I wasn't here to see the sights and I wasn't here to worry about the town's economy. I was on a case, and my first destination was up ahead on the right. I drove past the building and around the corner, then finally pulled my pick-up into a parking lot around back of the place.

I didn't emerge right away, once I was parked I stayed put for a little while. I pulled a file folder out of the small duffel bag on the passenger seat and took a few minutes to review it again.

Missing persons really wasn't my normal thing. I was based out of headquarters at Orillia, and usually handled more serious crimes. They sent me here because the local detachment hadn't found anything, and because the situation was 'delicate', which was another word for political.

Ten days ago one of the local town councillors went missing. Philip Duncan was probably an important guy in this little town, but in the grand scheme of things about the only thing he had going for him was being an affluent white man. Which still meant he got more attention than a lot of other maybe more-deserving people. That's not why I was here though.

The real issue was they had a municipal election coming up at the end of October, and councillor Duncan was running for mayor against the incumbent Don Ross. Apparently there was a lot of bad blood between the two, and they'd nearly come to blows on more than one occasion.

After Phil Duncan went missing while campaigning in the downtown area rumours of foul play started up. The councilman's car was found in the same lot I'd just parked in, but there was no trace of the guy.

When the locals failed to turn up anything after a week, they sent it up to headquarters and asked for help. And I drew the short straw because I grew up here. They probably figured that would give me some extra credibility, while the fact that I hadn't been here in years meant I'd also be impartial.

Unfortunately I wasn't that happy to be back. Apart from my mom, I didn't have a lot of good memories about growing up here.

And missing persons really wasn't my thing. Most of the cases I worked on had a body, or a victim in hospital. All I had right now was an abandoned car, a missing town councilman, and a single lead.

When the local detachment canvassed the businesses around the parking lot, they came up with four seconds of grainy security camera footage that seemed to show the councillor entering a shop just off Main. There was no footage to show he came out again, but honestly that didn't seem like much of a lead.

I could see the building from where I was parked, there were two back doors that opened directly onto the parking lot. The security footage was from another angle that didn't show the back of the building.

Still, it was my only lead so it was the obvious place to start.

I slid the file folder back into my bag then killed the ignition and emerged from the truck. The weather was typical for late September. The sun was shining, there were a scattering of white clouds in the sky, and a bit of a brisk breeze was blowing cool air inland off the water that was out of sight to the north.

As I walked towards the alley I tucked my keys into my pocket, then adjusted my jacket to make sure my weapon was fully covered.

There was just one doorway on the side of the alley, a single shop in that location so there was no question what store the councilman had entered. I paused just outside the door and stared.

The signage identified the place as 'Magic of the Moon', it was some kind of occult place. I could see some dream catchers and crystal balls hanging just inside the window, and a display below the window had mirrors and more crystal balls on it. I tried not to be judgemental, but it wasn't the kind of place I'd ever shop in. Though I did have vague memories of the place being here way back when I was growing up and used to hang out downtown.

I pulled the door open and stepped inside, and was immediately hit with a powerful smell of sandalwood incense. I had to take a moment, it almost made my eyes water and I nearly coughed a few times before I got under control again.

My eyes swept the inside of the shop, it was fairly small and the decor was dark. Honestly it looked like it could use some renovations. There was indeed a back door, it was grey and had a sign with 'Employees Only' marked in red text. And to my right, standing behind some glass display counters was an employee.

She was young, in her teens. She watched as I approached the counter, her eyes flicked up and down over me and I did the same for her.

The girl reminded me of Wednesday Addams. She was petite, I put her height at five-foot-four which was a solid foot shorter than myself. She was slim, her skin was a pale delicate tone. Her jet-black hair was perfectly straight and hung about halfway down her back. She was wearing a black short-sleeve dress, and as near as I could tell there wasn't any make-up on her. I didn't see any jewelry either. Her eyes were unusual, they were green with flecks of gold. Or possibly gold with flecks of green, it was honestly hard to tell. There was a name-tag clipped to her dress which bore the name 'Skye'.

I pulled my badge out of my jacket pocket and identified myself, "Good morning miss. I'm Detective Collier. Would you mind answering some questions?"

The girl looked at the badge in my hand, then back up at me. There wasn't even a flicker of emotion on her face. Most people had some kind of reaction, positive or negative, when confronted by a plainclothes detective. Getting nothing at all from this kid was strange, and my gut immediately told me there was something different about either this girl or this shop.

She looked at me for just a little longer than seemed normal, before she replied in a calm voice "How can I help you, detective?"

The way she paused before responding almost made me wonder if she had to think it over, like she was consciously deciding whether or not she should cooperate. It was another thing that told me there was something unusual here.

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Councilman Duncan," I stated.

With a gesture over my shoulder towards the front door I continued, "He was last seen on Friday September seventeenth, at about two in the afternoon. He was seen entering your shop here. That was the last record we have of him. I'm trying to retrace his steps after that."

The girl was quiet again for a few seconds, then finally replied "I'm sorry I can't help you. I wasn't working on the seventeenth."

"Can you tell me who was?" I asked her. "And where I can find them?"

She nodded, "My boss Selene worked that day. You can find her here tomorrow, between ten in the morning and five in the afternoon."

I frowned and pulled out my notepad and a pen then asked, "Do you have an address for her? Or a phone number?"

The girl shook her head, "I don't believe she owns a phone, and I don't know her address. I'm sorry."

My frown grew a little deeper. It wasn't implausible that a teen working retail wouldn't know her boss's home address, but it was unusual that she wouldn't have a phone number or some way to get in touch with her boss incase of trouble. I'd only been here a few minutes and I already suspected there was something fishy about this place, but until I had more than a gut feeling I couldn't really do anything else.

"Can I get your name please?" I asked her.

The girl raised an eyebrow and looked down at her dress, then pointed to her name-tag, "My name is Skye."

"Full name," I clarified.

She frowned, like she wasn't sure whether or not to answer me. Or like she didn't know what to tell me, like maybe she was trying to think up a false name.

"Skye can I seem some ID please?" I asked her.

"I don't have any with me," she replied. "I don't own a drivers license, and there's no reason for me to bring my health card or birth certificate with me when I'm working."

I sighed, it felt like this kid was actually playing games with me now. "What's your home address?"

She asked calmly, "Why do you need that?"

I actually had to take a deep breath to keep my temper. "I need to keep a record of everyone I speak with on my investigation. If you don't have any ID and won't tell me your full name, I need an address. I need more than just a first name to indicate in my records who you are."

That left her looking thoughtful for a few moments, then she recited a local address. It was a residential area not far from here. It was about ten minutes away by car, but if she was walking it might take her forty-five minutes to get home. I jotted that down in my notes, along with her first name.

"Thank you Skye," I stated in a forced-calm voice. "I'll be back tomorrow morning to speak with your boss."

She smiled slightly, "Have a nice day."

I watched her for another few seconds, then asked "Why aren't you in school right now?"

Skye raised an eyebrow, "Are you also a truant officer, in addition to being a detective?"

"Just answer the question please," I stated.

There was another brief pause while she considered her answer before she replied, "I don't attend school anymore. I'm over sixteen years of age, which means I am no longer required by law to attend."

I frowned at her and countered, "You look fifteen to me. If I were a truant officer, I'd need to see some identification before I was convinced you didn't need to be in school."

The girl actually smiled at me and said, "Touché."

I almost couldn't believe it. This little teenage kid was playing games with me after all. There wasn't really anything I could do about it for now, but I was convinced there was something here worth looking into. It might not have anything to do with the councilman's disappearance, but something was fishy about this place and the bold as brass teen girl behind the counter.

After staring at her for a few more seconds, I gestured to the back door and asked "Can I go out that way?"

There was another of those long pauses as she seemed to think the question over. Finally she nodded "Yes, you may."

I was almost surprised she'd agreed, and I walked past the counters and the displays on the wall, then turned the knob on the door. It stuck, I had to jiggle it before it released. The door swung inwards, and beyond it was a small poorly-lit storage area.

The door itself was flimsy hollow pressboard, the kind you'd use on a closet or something. After I stepped through it, the door swung shut behind me.

To my left were some cheap metal shelving units, the shelves all empty except one. There was a lump of something dark and covered in dust, and next to that was an equally dusty baseball cap. The lump was clothing of some kind, and after poking at it with my pen I realized it was a hoodie.

I couldn't even make out the colours of the cap under the dust, but a Toronto Blue Jays logo was faintly legible. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

I slipped my pen into the space at the back of the cap and picked it up for a closer look. It left an oval space in the dust on the shelf. Inside the brim I spotted a name, and after looking closer I could just make out 'N. Trent' written in ballpoint pen. The writing looked like it was done by a kid.

After I put the cap back on the shelf I jotted that name into my notebook.

Past the shelving units was a door that opened to a dingy little bathroom, and beyond that was a metal fire-door emergency exit.

I looked down at my feet and noticed the floor was just as dusty as the shelves. There were no footprints here apart from my own, it looked like nobody had been in this back area in about a decade.

That didn't make sense to me. Even if they didn't use the storage space, even if all their deliveries came in the front door and went straight up on the displays out front, surely someone would have needed to use the restroom at some point. But if nobody had truly been through here in years, that killed my theory of the councilman taking the back exit out of the shop.

I finally pushed open the emergency exit and stepped out into the parking lot. The door swung closed behind me, and from this side it was locked tight. So was the door next to it, that led to the other businesses in the building.

So far I didn't have any answers, but I had some suspicions and I'd ruled out one theory. I made my way back to my pick-up and settled in behind the wheel.

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