A warm summer breeze stirred past the gauzy white curtains of Eleanor Albright's parlor. When she sat upon the black walnut piano bench, she had perfect posture--the inevitable consequence of ninety years of refusing to slouch. Arthritis had robbed her of her former ability to draw forth the fast and forceful bass-heavy pieces she'd once favored, but music still lived within her, and she would not quiet it as long as the choice remained hers to make. The opening tones of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata drifted upward at her touch, but she'd not gone more than twenty or thirty measures when a knock at the door interrupted the song. She used the black and purple aluminum cane that she'd received as a Christmas gift from her son-in-law to steady herself as she hustled to see who'd come calling.
Her great-granddaughter, a compact little bundle of a young woman with wild black hair piled atop her head, enormous brown eyes circled in dark liner, and a mind as sharp as a scalpel, bustled in and kicked the door shut behind her. Skipping over the usual hugs and pleasantries, she held Eleanor's shoulders in a firm grip and made an announcement. "My friend is in big trouble, Nana. I think you might be the only one who can help."
"Whatever is wrong, we'll face it." Eleanor gave Lydia's arm a reassuring squeeze. "My goodness, I've never seen you like this. Come inside and sit down. Tell me all about it."
The two women situated themselves on high-backed, upholstered chairs arranged before the fireplace at an angle that encouraged conversation. "Now, what happened?"
Lydia took a deep breath and twisted the outer layer of her fluffy black skirt around her hands. The heels of her scuffed combat boots bounced up and down, rapid as a telegraph knob. "Do you remember when I told you I took a class about artificial intelligence last semester?"
"Of course. I'm so proud of how well you did."
The praise washed over Lydia without visible effect. "My teaching assistant was this lady named Larisa Johnson. She was great. I went to her for help a few times and we became good friends."
Lydia abruptly rose from her chair and began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace with her arms wrapped around herself. "She was working on some really next-gen stuff. Like, the kind of stuff that people win Nobel Prizes for, and sometimes she'd let me go through her notes or even help with her research."
"That sounds very exciting." Truth be told, Eleanor couldn't think of many things she'd rather do less than spend her days attempting to draw a computer into conversation, but she was humble enough to admit that her own ways of thinking and doing were old-fashioned and backward in the current day and age.
"It was amazing, but it was crazy expensive. There are probably only a handful of laboratories in the entire world that could afford to move to the next stage of her project, but she found one in Washington DC. She called and told me, maybe a week ago, that she was heading over there to present her work. If they liked what they saw, she had full funding for the foreseeable future."
So far, there was a brilliant scientist, cutting-edge technology, big money, and now the government in this story. Eleanor's long years of solving mysteries didn't seem necessary to make the next deduction. "The girl's gone missing."
Lydia dropped back into her chair and clasped her hands together. "That's why you have to be the one to help, Nana. You get it."
"I'm saddened to hear that I'm right, my dear. Fill in the gaps for me. What do the police say about all this?"
"That's just it. They don't say anything. They think she ran off with her lover or something."
It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "Did she have a lover?"
Pretty red color bloomed in Lydia's pale cheeks. "She had several."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Were the two of you--"
"What? Nana, no! She was my teacher. Even if I wanted to, and I didn't, she wouldn't have ever done anything like that with a student. She's a really good person, she's just... you know." She shrugged.
"Carnally inclined?" Eleanor suggested.
One corner of Lydia's mouth tipped upward for the briefest of moments. "Sure. Let's go with that. But she was smart, and she was dedicated. She's given years of her life to get where she is. She wouldn't throw it all away for some crazy affair."
If the scientist in question were a man, Eleanor was certain the police would never suggest that he'd simply left his life's work for a lover. She pressed her lips into a tight line and swallowed what she wanted to say about all that. "Who filed the missing person's report?"
"Her mom. Larisa told her she'd call as soon as she got there, but she never did. The train people said she definitely boarded, but it seems like that was the last anyone saw of her." As she talked, her voice grew tight and she looked away, blinking hard.
"The police must have done something, then. They can't just refuse to act on a report."
Lydia shrugged one shoulder. "They said they looked into it, but by the time they actually searched the train everything had been cleaned up. There was an empty leather bag and a gold pocket watch in lost and found, but no one remembered if they'd been near Larisa's seat or in some other part of the train entirely."
"Could they have been Larisa's?"
"I don't know." She sighed and slumped against the back of the chair. "Maybe. I mean, she had a leather bag, but so does half the world, and I don't know what the one they found looks like. Plus, it was empty."
"Hmmm," said Eleanor. "That's rather the point, though, isn't it? Leather bags are a dime a dozen, but the contents of those bags could be quite invaluable."
Outside the open window, a red-breasted robin whistled a tune while the two ladies sat for a moment, each with her own thoughts.
Since the time she was a young girl, much younger than Lydia was now, Eleanor's heart and mind had been captured by every good mystery she came across. In the early days, when she'd searched for a friend's stolen jewelry or the lost deed to a home, it had been an exciting challenge. Not many years passed before she realized the hard truth. Most mysteries held horrible pain at their core. She sent up a prayer this one would end well, and then she launched into the old familiar pattern of action.
"We should search the train," Eleanor said.
At precisely the same moment, Lydia spoke. "We should see if we can convince the police to do something."
Eleanor nodded. "You're right, of course. Let me get my handbag and we'll go see what we can find out from both the police and the folks at the train station."
Lydia jumped to her feet and extended a helping hand, which Eleanor accepted with gratitude. The girl held on without letting go. "Thank you for helping me. I knew you would know what to do."
"You should prepare yourself for bad news, dear." Her heart ached, but the words had to be said. "A single woman, alone, carrying valuable information... well..."
"I know, but she's smart, Nana. I mean, really, world-class smart. If anyone can figure a way out of a mess, it would be Larisa."
Eleanor drew back. "Oh, it's Larisa who holds the world record for resolving sticky issues, is it?"
Her teasing earned a grin. "Present company excluded, of course."
"I'll get my bag." She patted the girl's hand. "You can drive, and on the way, I'll tell you some stories."
"Will you tell me the one about Morocco?"
"No. You already know that one."
"That guy in Peru?"
Eleanor laughed. "Shoo. Off to the kitchen. There are brownies on the counter. Pack a few for the road, and I'll meet you back here in three minutes." She indulged in a moment of watching the girl trot off to the other room, her youthful exuberance so easily restored by the tiniest glimmer of a hope for answers. Some folks might judge the young for their naivety. Eleanor rather envied it.
With cane in hand, she went in search of her purse. Both the train station and the police station were within a reasonable drive. She had no reason to believe she'd need anything beyond what she carried with her on any routine trip into town.