Like a Ghost into the Fog

The soup was cold.
Just another instance of crappy service. He knew that it was going to be this way. It was this way every time he came in this joint.But it was cheap, and cheap was all he could afford these days.
33 years on the force, and then he had to retire because of his bum hip. He couldn't keep up anymore. It was the only option available for him. But a cop's pension doesn't pay much, and he had to make the dollars stretch as far as he could.
Ernie never thought life would be like this. He didn't really know what he had expected out of life, but this wasn't it. Of that he was sure.
But Ernie did find work occasionally working as a private detective. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the food bills. It let him eat at places like this. Ernie shook his head. "Oh what an existence." was his satirical thought.
His thoughts wandered through his memories, eventually winding back up staring at the cold soup. Ernie knew he could send it back. They might not screw with it, he was a regular. Even in this shit hole, Ernie thought there might be someone with dignity. But Ernie wasn't quite prepared to make that assumption.
Pulling a few dollars out of his pocket, Ernie tossed them on the table and got up. Staring at the soup wasn't going to make it taste better. It wasn't going to make him feel better and it certainly wasn't going to make him forget.
Looking around suspiciously, Ernie did his best not to remember any of it. It was hard not to, especially when it had haunted him for so long. People sometimes asked him what he remembered most about working as a Police Officer, what story stuck out the most? His reply used to be some terrible accident or a funny story depending upon his audience. That all stopped a few years ago. That was when he came across the only case he could never solve. Even now, years later, he would open up the file and go through it again to see if there was some piece of the puzzle he missed, some clue he overlooked.
Deep in thought, he left the diner and walked the few blocks back to his office/home. He had turned the downstairs into an office for his detective business and lived upstairs. It was a very suitable arrangement for him.
He couldn't get the case out of his mind now that it had come back up. It was such a strange case.
Ernie wasn't sure how he would classify it if he were to file it, missing persons, abduction, he really wasn't sure. It was so bizarre.
As he approached his office, he saw a newer model Mercedes-Benz sitting out front. Perhaps he had company, Ernie's clientele  was definitely upper-class. The poor had a hard time affording his services, he didn't come cheap. His knowledge hadn't either and this was Ernie's way of surviving.
Walking up to the door, a muscular fit man got out of the car, and approached.
"May I help you?" Ernie inquired.
"Yes," the stranger replied, "I was told that you would have any information regarding a person of interest to me. I was told that you were the person to speak to about this person."
Ernie's interest was piqued. "And who told you this?" was his next question.
"One Captain Maynard. Down at the precinct." was the quick response.
"The man had done some homework if he had spoken with the Captain." Ernie reasoned privately, "The Captain would have never sent him here if Capt didn't have good reason."
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the summer was picking up hard and humid. Soon it wouldn't be fit to be outside at this time. Opening the door, Ernie invited the stranger into the cooler office, "Why don't we go inside and speak some more?" he said.
The stranger nodded and proceeded into the waiting room. Ernie went and turned on a few lights, and then indicated that the stranger should follow him into his office. Switching on lights, and getting himself comfortable, Ernie sat in his leather chair and gestured for the stranger to do the same.
As the stranger sat, Ernie took the opportunity to inquire further. Leaning forward, surreptitiously turning on his tape recorders, Ernie asked the stranger who he was looking for. Settling himself into his own chair, the stranger looked up and said the one name Ernie had hoped to never hear again. "Fred Franks". Ernie stared at the man, surely he had heard wrong. He knew that he had just been thinking about the very same name, it was just probably still in his head.
"I beg your pardon?" was his reply.
"Fred Franks. He disappear. The Captain said that after they could not make heads or tails of it, the family had contacted you in hopes you could find something. The Captain said you never did. But that you never gave up the case. I am here to find out what you learned." The stranger had lain a bomb in Ernie's lap. What was he to say? Who was this guy?
"And who are you to be inquiring of this matter, sir? I know all the family, quite well in some cases. I know you are not related. What is your interest in this matter?" Ernie wasn't sure if he wanted to divulge his information to this complete stranger.
"You are correct sir. I am not family. I represent another group that is interested in his whereabouts. Be it deceased or living, we would like to know what you know. I am aware that you probably don't want to divulge any information, and that is fine and well. I am entitled to compensate you handsomely for your time. All we want is a copy of your files, and to hear the story. That's all. Nothing more. After that, I will leave and you can about your way, a richer man.: The stranger had Ernie's attention. While he didn't like the idea of givng away information, Ernie did like making money. But it needed to be good money.
"How much compensation?" was his hesitant answer. The stranger pulled a check from his pocket, glanced at it, and slid it face down across the table. Ernie picked it up and almost dropped it again. He had never seen a check with that many zeroes. 10,000 dollars was a lot of money. Enough that Ernie could stop eating at that crap hole diner down the street. Nodding his acceptance, Ernie leaned back in his chair.
"It was the strangest case I have worked on in the 33 years on the police force and since as a private detective.....


 The only definite thing that I can tell you about the whole situation is that Fred Franks is gone. I don't necessarily mean dead, I just mean gone. I don't think he was abducted, there would have been some sort of ransom. I don't believe he committed suicide, at least he didn't there and there was never a body recovered. He just vanished.
The police got wind of it after he didn't show up for work. His manager called and called his phone, we found it in the apartment, showing the multitude of missed calls and texts, and when no one answered, she called his next of kin to check on him. His brother hadn't seen him since the day before, but agreed to check the apartment.
Fred's brother is the one who called the police. The police arrived to find the apartment in the same state that Fred's brother found it. Empty, but looking like Fred had just been there. No bags were missing, his cell phone was there, his car was there, the dog was in the kennel, but Fred was nowhere to be found. It was like he walked outside and vanished.
After the police exhausted every lead, and they had several, the family contacted me. I knew, taking the case that it was hard to track down someone on a case this cold, but I tried anyway. I kept running into dead ends. I would discover some facet of his life only to find that the people involved hadn't seen him in years. The man had become a ghost long before he disappeared with no close friends and only seeing his family once a week, or more.
I went through all the evidence, there was no foul play. I tracked down his drug dealer and the guy was just as surprised as anyone else. He didn't know where he had gone.
I must have spent weeks searching for some clue. I found nothing. The man simply vanished. It's all there in my files. You might find something I missed, or have information that I don't, but I couldn't figure it out."

The stranger was silent for a moment, and then asked, "So there were no clothes taken, no bags packed? Maybe he went camping with a friend or something?"
Ernie nodded, "I thought the same. But as far as I could tell, with the help of the brother, nothing was missing. No camping gear, no clothes. The man had locked his dog up in the kennel like he was leaving for work. But something happened between the front door and the car. I never could figure out what."
The stranger nodded, seemingly accepting Ernie's answer. "So what do you think happened?" he asked Ernie.
Ernie shrugged. "Now that is the 10,000 dollar question isn't it?" was his response. He chuckled and then continued, "I don't believe in aliens, and I don't think the government kidnapped him. In my honest opinion, he just left. For whatever reason, he reached his breaking point, and just walked away from it all. If he was determined enough, he could have slipped away without anyone knowing it. You reach another city, buy a ticket somewhere, say on a bus, and you could be gone forever. I didn't have the connections or money to create a nationwide man-hunt, so I wasn't able to check records nationwide. But my gut says this guy just up and walked away from his life. He disappeared. And in such a way as I have never seen. It was like he simply vanished."

The stranger nodded, thanked him for his time, took his copy of the files and left. Ernie watched him drive off. But he couldn't help the nagging feeling that he forgot something, something important. It was something about the check that kept bothering him. Turning it back over, he looked at the company's name that wrote the check. He had seen that name before. But where?
Ernie scratched his head for a long time. As he picked up the folder, his phone rang. Turning to answer it, he spilled some of the papers on the table. It was the Captain, inquiring about the stranger. Talking to the Captain, Ernie started putting the papers back in the folder. Just casually looking at one sheet, he froze. That was where he had seen the name! It was on the list of alias'. It was one of Fred's aliases!
Ernie couldn't believe it. He sat down heavily, forgetting the Captain on the phone. All he could think about was why? Why after all this time would he show up again, seeking information? Why?
The Captain, sensing Ernie's attention slipping, called out to him, "Ernie, Ernie! What's wrong?"
"I've got to go, Capt. That son of a bitch, Franks, was the stranger. He was just here. And he left."