Sydney had a thirst for knowledge. She delighted in delving into and finding answers for the hard questions, the more complicated and convoluted the deeper she dug, indeed considered a maverick by some since she wasn’t concerned about ruffling feathers to obtain those answers.
Her boss had dropped a file on her desk relating to the disappearance of a beautiful young woman, exquisite not only on the outside but on the inside it appeared. The young woman, “Dee” to her friends, born Dierdre Mason, was loved by family and friends alike. Those she worked with seemed to adore her. Dierdra spent countless hours volunteering at shelters, food kitchens and hospitals, her selflessness and dedication extolled by those working closely with her no matter what duty or assignment was given her. She cleaned toilets, changing soiled bedding, washing clothes, and could often be found sitting beside a lonely homeless individual to speak to them, to show them they mattered; no gesture or act was considered beneath her.
That she had been born into luxury, rubbed shoulders with some of the richest most elite of society in the country, stood to inherit millions, hadn’t swayed her determination to help in a meaningful way and highlighted the true depth of her character and love for her fellow man.
That is, until she disappeared ten days ago. The chief of police, the mayor, everyone was pushing for immediate results, it was high profile after all, but the mayor knew the family personally and personally vouched for the outstanding young woman Dierdre was. It seemed inconceivable tragedy had befallen her.
Sydney had recently joined the staff of the Daily as the youngest journalist and she’d been shocked upon hearing about the disappearance since she’d done a piece on the family a couple of years back and had met Dierdre at the time and admired her tenacity.
Sydney learned that while her family backed her decisions, stood by her no matter what, it didn’t mean there wasn’t some fall-out. Their very real concern for her welfare always at the forefront, they begged her to spend less time on the front lines, suggesting instead she head up a committee to donate funds to hire more help hoping to keep her out of harms way. Despite their concerns, she’d carried on.
Sydney dug into the police reports, questioned the workers at the last place she’d been seen, a shelter on 5th street where she’d been serving soup. When asked, her co-workers said she’d arrived her bright energetic self, carried out her duties as always, nothing seemed unusual or out of the ordinary. They hadn’t noticed her conversing with anyone other than the regulars arriving for the evening meal and hadn’t noticed her leave.
Next Sydney questioned as many individuals as she could find that had eaten at the shelter or had any contact with her that day. That she’d made a difference, touched their lives was evident in the quick smile, the momentary light in their eyes as they spoke of her, quickly extinguished when asked if they knew anything about her disappearance or someone that might want to harm her which, in Sydney’s mind, meant there was. The question was who? Why were they so afraid they wouldn’t speak to her or the police to assist in finding out what had become of the young woman they’d obviously liked.