001

It was time for the morning meeting. Walter Abbott, the head of the special investigation team, entered the room and rounded everyone up. The investigators gathered around a group of desks, pulled up a couple of chairs, and the meeting began. 

First the current cases were discussed, then Walter made a serious face. 

»As you may know, casting for the next season of this show 'The Super Model' will take place in the coming days. Last year in Bartonville, a girl mysteriously disappeared and has not been found to this day. The case was put on hold because no concrete evidence could be found anywhere. Now that the new season is starting, and since it's taking place here in Lakeside this time, we've got it on the table. We're to reopen the investigation and try to prevent anything like this from happening again.” 

Walter Abbott, affectionately known as “Walt” by the investigators, paused for a moment and they looked at him intently. 

»Although it is only a regional imitation, this model show is the focus of media interest. So of course we can't just storm in there and turn it all upside down, so we're going to have to plant an investigator.' 

Tom Steward, known for his no-nonsense approach to women, grinned widely. 

"I volunteer, with pretty models all the time, it's my dream job." 

Walt smiled at him. 

"I'll take your word for it, but we need someone to investigate, not someone to flirt with the girls and get distracted." He was serious again. »After much deliberation, I have decided to commission Jillian Moore. I think she is best suited to move inconspicuously in these circles because of her young age. Plus , as a woman, it should be easier for her to connect with the girls and gain their trust.” 

Jillian Moore, the only female investigator in the men's group, winced. She had only recently been transferred here and was green behind the ears, so to speak. So far she hadn't had a solo mission and she didn't like the boss's suggestion at all. 

Walt noticed her startled face. "Jill, is that a problem for you?" he asked, eyebrows raised. 

"No, no, of course not," she murmured hastily. 

It was difficult enough as it was to assert yourself against your male colleagues. It was still a male-dominated job, and there was no way she was about to back down and look like an idiot. 

“Okay,” Walt nodded happily, “come straight to my office, I'll go over the details with you. - Okay guys, that's it for today, get to work!' 

'Guys,' repeated Jill mentally resignedly, following her boss into the small glass box at the far end of the room. 

"Sit down!" he invited, perching on the edge of his desk. 

'I know you have concerns and I can understand that. But you don't have to worry, it's completely safe to use. We will send you there as a reporter, there will be a number of journalists swarming around there, so you will hardly be noticed. Ask around, try to find out something and keep an eye on the girls. The time has come on Thursday, by then you will receive your press card and we will organize everything that is necessary. And one more thing – no going it alone! If you notice anything or find it odd, let me know immediately.” 

Jill nodded, not wanting to put herself in unnecessary danger. 

»Good, then go home now, you have the rest of the day today and tomorrow off so that you can prepare for your assignment in peace. Here is the information about the missing girl. Look through it carefully, you might find something that will help you.” 

Walt handed her a folder and stood up, indicating that the call was over. 

"Cheer up, you can do it," he nodded to her in a fatherly manner as she stood up. 

"Yeah, sure," she said, not sounding entirely convinced, and for the first time since her transfer, wished she'd stayed on patrol.

 

Jill decided to use the free time to gather more information. First, she got the DVD of the previous Super Model season and spent the rest of the day watching the episodes. Of course, she had known beforehand what it was all about, and the media hype had not left her untouched either. But when she looked at the pictures of the bitchy, sometimes hysterical girls, her stomach felt queasy. She didn't like the idea of spending hours in the company of such wacky, post-pubescent semi-teens and cursed Walt for doing this to her. 

She tried to ignore the models and focus more on the people around her. Most of them would be back again this season and it would be good to get an idea beforehand. 

Eventually she turned off the TV and was about to go into the kitchen to prepare dinner when her cell phone rang. 

"Hello, Jill." 

"Simon," she blurted out in surprise. 

"I... I just wanted to hear how you are." 

She sighed. "Thank you, I'm fine." 

"Actually, I'd like to ask you if you'd like to have dinner with me." 

"I'm sorry, today is bad," she declined. 

"Maybe in the next few days?" he asked hopefully. 

"I don't think I'm very busy right now," she evaded, "I'll call you when I'm free, okay?" 

"All right," he agreed, and she could hear the disappointment in his voice Listen. 'Have a nice evening then.' 

'Thank you, you too.' 

She hung up the phone with a touch of guilt. She had no intention of meeting him again, and actually it would have been better to give him a clean slate. But she didn't have the heart to do it, especially for her mother's sake. 

She kept nagging Jill about wanting grandchildren and that it wasn't "normal" that at twenty-six Jill was still unmarried. For weeks she raved to her about what a decent, nice man Simon was and that he would be the ideal son-in-law. 

Finally, a week ago, Jill couldn't take it anymore and arranged to meet him for the sake of peace. Even after the appetizer, Jill knew that Simon wasn't the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. 

The evening had been an ordeal, at least for Jill. Simon talked almost exclusively about himself and his company, so dry and boring that Jill had trouble staying awake. The rest of the time he painted at great length how he imagined marriage and what he expected of his future wife. It didn't take long for Jill to realize that she was definitely not the woman he was describing. When he asked her on parting if they would see each other again, she replied with a vague "Maybe." She didn't want to hurt him and hoped he would have noticed that they weren't a match at all. 

But apparently he didn't see it that way, and neither did her mother, because she was the only one who could have given him Jill's cell phone number. 

"I'm way too good-natured," she thought, shaking her head as she grabbed a sandwich and then carried her plate into the living room. 

She flipped through the television programs for a while, eating her sandwich, and about an hour later she was in bed.