บท 22: Vanished
Jay returned home at breakneck speed, sweeping into the living room like a whirlwind through the open window. The room was still alight, Mrs. Reynolds seated on the couch, her eyes red-rimmed with anxiety and fatigue.
Without a word, she rose and embraced Jay tightly upon his arrival.
"It's okay, it's okay, Mom," Jay soothed, patting her back, "Whatever's happened, I promise I'll sort it out, okay? Tell me what's going on?"
It took Mrs. Reynolds a moment to compose herself before recounting the events. Her story was simple, unsettlingly so. She had received a call from Mr. Reynolds near midnight saying he'd be home soon, but he never arrived. Several calls went unanswered, and considering his unusual behavior and the recent plane incident, she instinctively feared the worst and reported him missing.
"The police found his phone a few streets away, just lying on the sidewalk," Mrs. Reynolds said, her voice quavering. She clung to Jay, "Oh God, I can't even begin to imagine what's happened to Charles. If something's—"
"Don't jump to conclusions; he'll be fine," Jay interrupted. "I'll bring him home, I promise."
His baseless reassurances seemed to offer her some solace. Mrs. Reynolds took a deep breath, steadying herself before pointing to the coffee table. "The police were here earlier, asked me some questions. The detective was nice, what was his name... I can't quite remember, but he left his card, said to call if I remembered anything..."
She handed Jay a small white card. It read: "Detective Martin Jones."
4 AM, Metropolis Police Department.
The night's weariness was palpable as Detective Jones' partner set a steaming cup of coffee on his desk. "Thanks for the coffee, John, but I think we won't need it tonight. Overtime's off; we can head home for some shut-eye."
Jones' partner, John, was perplexed. "What happened? I thought we had a disappearance to investigate."
"It's off the table now," Jones sighed. "Just got a call from upstairs, they're pulling us from the case. It's been labeled as 'special' and handed off to another outfit."
"Not this again," John frowned. "You know, Martin, every time they say a case's been passed to 'the relevant department', how often do they get solved? They might as well be ordering us to file it in the cold case archives, and we've not even started investigating!"
Jones replied, resigned, "Rules are rules, you know that. In this city, this world, we're just two small pieces on the board. There's little we can do; there are realms beyond our reach. If they're drawing the line, there's nothing we can do."
John exhaled deeply, "Sure, I get it; just hard to accept. Guess I haven't been in the game long enough to get used to it."
"You might never get used to it." Jones paused a long beat before adding, "This missing person, Charles Reynolds from the Daily Planet... I remember him."
"You knew him?"
"I crossed paths with him when I was younger. A good man, a good reporter, and now..." Jones trailed off with a sigh. "He's got a wife, a kid who's just come of age."
"That's rough."
"Yeah, rough," Jones echoed. "But what can I say? We live in such a world. Maybe the city's hope died six years ago."
The atmosphere grew heavy with unspoken thoughts until Jones packed up to leave. "Alright, that's it for today. I'm heading off, need a good sleep. Remember to lock up and switch off the lights."
"Will do. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Unbeknownst to the detectives, Jay had been perched across the police station, on the rooftop, his keen hearing capturing every word of their conversation.
He had suspected Mr. Reynolds' involvement in something out of the ordinary, but the extent of the enemy's reach—to pressure the police into abandoning their investigation—was more formidable than he'd anticipated.
The situation might be more difficult than he imagined, but he wouldn't back down. Charles Reynolds, his father, was irreplaceable to him. He was determined to bring him back, regardless of the adversary.
Having never been a detective, Jay lacked investigative experience. But if his father's disappearance was tied to the story he was chasing, starting there seemed like a good bet.
With that, Jay flew to Mr. Reynolds' Daily Planet office. The building was, of course, deserted at this hour. He entered through a storage room window and deftly picked the lock to his father's office door—under the circumstances, Jay was certain he wouldn't mind.
Mr. Reynolds' desk was impeccably organized. Skimming through the files, Jay found nothing but mundane stories for the lifestyle section—hardly a motive for a plane crash.
His gaze shifted to the locked file cabinet on the left. Locked cabinets had been a rarity in the past. Hidden inside was a compartment where Mr. Reynolds stashed sensitive documents. He hadn't told many, but Jay had seen it with his X-ray vision on his first visit to the office and kept it to himself.
He ripped off the lock and found a pale blue folder in the compartment. Spreading it out on the desk revealed a sprawling case analysis chart. To Jay's astonishment, his father's investigation was massive. It traced back to a disturbance at an underground mall, where Mr. Reynolds had sensed a force obscuring the truth. The ensuing investigation revealed a web of unsolved mysteries, from a government official's disappearance to a journalist's vanishing, and bizarre rumors of a covert department creating monsters.
Remembering the white creature he'd encountered at the mall, Jay suddenly felt the rumor might not be so far-fetched.
The analysis chart culminated in a pointer to an international corporation named "Kerykeion Creative Technologies," with branches worldwide but headquartered in Chicago.
That's why Mr. Reynolds was headed to Chicago.
It seemed Jay would be taking a trip there as well.
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