The Mystery of the Missing Story

Written by Julie Hockenberry, Published on 11/20/2008, Re-published on 6/4/2010

“It snows and everyone becomes a kid again,” Jack grumbled. While his co-workers were leaving early or acting juvenile, he was trying to piece together his interview notes. He had spoken with the governor’s son, Elliot, about a recent academic scandal in which he was accused of cheating on his exams and helping other students to cheat as well. It would end up being a top story for The Printed Voice and he wasn’t leaving work until he had finished a draft.

Amy, a childish co-worker, peeked her head in the doorway. “Jack, come out and play!” She hopped in to face him, peering over the large stack of notes that filled his work area.

He grabbed two handfuls of paper and held them up. “I’m trying to work. I’ve seen snow before.”

“You’ve seen snow, eh? Well, do you see my hand behind my back?” she giggled.

Something cold and wet smacked Jack in the face. Recovering from the partially melted snowball, he watched Amy scamper away. As he ran out of his office, he grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut, rattling it with his palm twice to make sure it had locked. Dashing through the lobby in hot pursuit, Jack nearly collided with another reporter, Lucy, while she was coming inside the building.

“Excuse you!” Lucy yelled back at him.

Lucy was a bitter reporter and the office gossip. Most people tried to steer clear of her. Jack, unfortunately, had bumped right into her.

Jack called back a quick apology as he continued the chase. Running outside, he stepped on a patch of ice. He found himself on the ground, looking up at the winter sky. He sat back up and saw Mr. Jenkins, the custodian of the facility, standing on the sidewalk with his trash receptacle.

“Glad to see you’re finally having some fun,” he called out to Jack with a grin.

“This was not my idea of a break,” Jack groaned back.

Mr. Jenkins shook his head again. “Well, I mopped up the mess in front of your office just a moment ago. I feel like I have been attacking wet footprints ever since it started snowing.”

Jack gave him a frown of sympathy. “Sorry. That was from Amy, not me.”

Mr. Jenkins sighed and gave a shrug before heading inside. Another co-worker, Sarah, stepped out right after him and burst out laughing when she saw Jack still sitting on the ground.

“This is a change of scenery for you,” Sarah giggled as she stopped in front of him. “I bet you wish you’d landed Alex’s Sea World story … you’d be enjoying the sunny San Diego weather right about now!” Still dazed, Jack wasn’t exactly paying attention.

Sarah adjusted her heavy shoulder bag, and waved her hand in front of his eyes, “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

“Sorry,” he said, “I’m just stressed – as usual.”

“I know how that is,” she replied. “… If only my name were Lucy, then, I’d be dating the boss’s son. And, then, I’d get to do whatever I wanted.”

It looked like Sarah was leaving the office for a month rather than heading home early. She, like Jack, was a self-proclaimed workaholic. “The snow is coming down pretty heavy,” she added, “I have a feeling that if you want to head out, it will be OK.”

“Well, I guess I better get back to work so I can go.” Jack stood up and wiped the remaining snow off of his clothes. As he was heading back into the office, a snowball hit him in the back of his head. He whirled around to find Amy sticking her tongue out at him.

“Are you going to let her get away with that?” Sarah smiled as she began walking down the sidewalk toward the parking lot; she was leaving for the day.

Jack retaliated with two snowball attacks of his own, and after fifteen minutes had passed, he decided it was time to retreat back into the warm building. Amy remained outside, choosing to freeze her toes for a while longer.

Jack found himself stepping over miniature puddles of melted snow in front of his office. Mr. Jenkins had already cleaned up the mess left over from Amy’s snowball. Evidently everyone in the building was tracking in messy footprints without worrying about giving the custodian extra work.

Jack rolled his eyes and unlocked his door. He stopped in his tracks. His desk was completely clean. Not a single paper remained. Walking inside, he stepped on something. Jack looked down and picked up a bent company ID card. The printed name on the card read: Alex Rebmevon. Alex, the official owner of the ID, was a fellow reporter at The Printed Voice. He was also the boss’s son.

Back during his college days, Jack had once locked himself outside of his dorm room and used his student ID to pick the lock. Jack questioned if the door in his office was just as easy to get into.

As Jack stood in the middle of the room, puzzled and angry by the intrusion, he heard a long whistle from behind. He turned to find Amy once again standing in the doorway. She nodded her head toward the immaculate desk. “Looks like you decided to get rid of that busy work, after all.”

“I didn’t do this,” Jack held up the ID, “he did.”

Amy snatched the card from his hand and studied it. “Well, it looks like this is what the culprit used alright. This card is wrecked.”

“ … Only one way to find out,” Jack said, as he whipped out his cell phone and dialed Alex’s number. There was no answer.

Amy was still standing in front of him. “Do you know who did it?” she asked. He thought back to Sarah and the massive shoulder bag she had been carrying.

“Maybe,” he answered. But his eyes narrowed as he weighed in the evidence and ran through a growing list of suspects. Mr. Jenkins had a key to every office in the building. And he had walked back inside shortly before Jack, explaining the puddles at the door.

They searched the building for the custodian and found him in the reception area, collecting trash. Jack explained the situation to him and asked about the missing papers.

“You really think I would do that?” Mr. Jenkins said, hurt by the accusation. He continued, “Though, I’ll admit, I did use Alex’s ID card to break into the office.

Jack replied quickly, “No, I don’t think you’re a suspect at all. You’ve been too busy cleaning all day. But, now that you mention it … why did you use the ID to break into my office?”

“Well, I swear I didn’t touch anything on your desk, it was already clean as a whistle when I went in to collect your trash. I used my key to get in the first time, but I accidentally left my keys on your filing cabinet and had shut the locked door before I realized it. I found the ID on the floor earlier and it was already bent up. I figured it couldn’t be used anymore, so what was the harm in using it to get back in?”

“So someone used the ID to break into my office before you found it then?” He thought about some of the things that had been taken and remembered his notes from the interview. Even the notes themselves would be something any other reporter at The Printed Voice would love to get his hands on. And one of them had. All of his co-workers were likely suspects.