L*st and Death

“Has this man ever visited the motel?”

On Anna’s phone screen was a picture of Yoon Siron—an image she had found through a Google search of the actor Yoon Siron.

“Hmm. I’m not sure.”

At the motel owner’s lukewarm response, Anna quickly flipped to the next photo.

“Then have you seen this man?”

On the screen, Lewis stood in front of a fountain, holding bottles of orange juice in both hands with a blank look on his face as if waiting for someone. It was a photo taken Tuesday, two days ago, at Twin Tower Mall.

“He’s a blond man in his twenties, nearly two meters tall. He was probably visibly agitated.”

The motel owner zoomed in on Lewis’s photo and studied it carefully before shifting her gaze to Anna. Her eyes lingered on Anna’s ears, heavy with piercings, the tattoos covering her left arm, and her police uniform. Rubbing the tip of her nose, she said:

“He kind of looks like you, officer.”

“...That’s ridiculous.”

“Hm. What crime are these people suspected of, anyway?”

“Public indecency.”

“You’re arresting people for public indecency at a motel?”

“Why not? Besides, the rest is under investigation, so I can’t disclose it.”

As Anna responded sharply, the owner scratched her nose and took a long pause before finally replying.

“...In any case, I haven’t seen either of them.”

The woman turned her gaze back to the mobile game she had been engrossed in earlier.

“Still, I’ve memorized their faces. I’ll contact you if I see them.”

“Yes. Please use the email address on the note I left.”

There was something off about the way the motel owner acted around Anna. Ordinary people, when faced with police, tended to subconsciously try to prove their innocence. But this woman seemed more interested in evaluating Anna—as if she were checking something.

Anna stepped out from the counter, unsettled. She had spent the past three days searching every lodging facility within an 18-kilometer radius of where Lewis’s vehicle had last been seen.

The car had last been spotted in Umberin, about 30 minutes from Techno Valley. The area had a low population density, meaning most roads were practically deserted, and ALPR (Automatic License Plate Recognition) systems were sparsely installed. From where the car was last seen to the next ALPR checkpoint, Lewis could have gone anywhere.

Since Tuesday night, the night Lewis abducted Siron, until now—Thursday morning—Anna had been tailing them, grabbing brief naps in her car. She hoped this could be resolved with cooperation from local police, but she had too many things to protect, too much that had to be hidden.

Standing in the center of the parking lot, Anna looked up at the motel. It was a two-story structure with a monotonous layout, all rooms aligned in the same direction.

Aside from the oddly irksome owner, the place was just as bland and unremarkable as the other sixty-odd establishments she’d checked. Still, something about this place tugged at her instincts—told her there was something here.

Anna showed Lewis and Siron’s pictures to a guest swimming in the motel’s outdoor pool. But no one had seen them. She walked along the hallway, pressing her ear to each room’s door, but couldn’t finish the sweep due to interference from the owner. Eventually, she had to head back for her afternoon shift at Linhart Police Department.

“Something wrong? You look like crap.”

Anna usually wore a blank expression, except when she was annoyed. Ria Carter—one of the many officers at Linhart PD who didn’t appreciate Anna’s lack of smiles—fluttered her excessively long fake lashes and spoke.

“Anna, you seriously look like you’ve got some major sexual frustration going on. Like, maybe it’s been 35 years since you’ve had anything.”

“If it’s been 35 years, I wasn’t even on my dad’s side yet. Don’t start shit—just fuck off.”

Unfazed, Ria kept talking to Anna.

“So what’s the problem? Something’s not working?”

“I don’t have access permissions to the system.”

“Huh? ...But I do.”

Anna lifted her chin slightly and glanced around the office. Most were out on field duty. She approached Ria’s desk and shoved her chair back.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shh, just let me run a quick search.”

Lowering her voice, Anna warned her. Ria also whispered in return.

“Use your own computer. Just request access.”

“There’s no time.”

“I’m gonna report this to Doug.”

At the sulky threat to report her to her partner Doug, Anna scoffed.

“You think tattling up the chain will be any fun?”

“Don’t expect me to take your side just because we’re both women.”

“I’ll give you my top ring earring.”

Anna pointed to the topmost of the many earrings crowding her ears.

“Solid 14k.”

“Anna Mac, don’t make me a dirty cop.”

Defensive at first, Ria soon turned away with a feigned prim expression and added:

“Just give it to me with no strings attached. And make it the one with your birthstone in the middle.”

“...You realize my birthstone’s diamond, right? You’re full of shit.”

“Don’t want to give it? Fine.”

Ria shrugged like she didn’t care. Staring at her in exasperation, Anna finally nodded.

“I’ll give it to you after work.”

“Don’t back out.”

“Yeah, yeah, now move.”

Anna quickly typed Lewis’s license plate into the system’s search bar. A list of entries appeared—each with a timestamp, location, and photo of the plate. She clicked the latest record. The image that appeared matched what she’d seen before: Tuesday, 9:10 PM, the intersection of Oak Street and Cherry Road in Umberin.

“...You’ve really been on this for three days, huh.”

“On what?”

“Just... something. And the results are shit. I can’t give you the full pair.”

“What!?”

“One side only. Do me another favor later, and I’ll give you the other one.”

Apparently feeling it was still a good deal, Ria nodded. Just then, a piercing ring echoed through the quiet station. It came from Anna McCarthy’s desk.

The extension almost never rang—except when the chief called. And he was out on external duties today.

Anna slowly rose and walked over. Eyeing the phone suspiciously, she reluctantly picked up.

“Linhart Police Department.”

She didn’t identify herself. A long sigh came from the other end.

—Anna?

It was Baekgyeong. The moment she heard his voice, Anna covered her forehead with her palm like someone struck with a migraine. Ever since Lewis abducted Siron, she’d been almost as worried about a call from Baekgyeong as she had about Siron’s safety.

She moved the phone away, cleared her throat, then answered solemnly.

“How’s the funeral goi—”

—Are you all doing some collective digital detox or something?

“Digital... what?”

—Or are you hoping to make the headlines with some article about a crazy gay parricide running off from his mother’s funeral?

“Wh—what do you mean?! Don’t tell me—you ran away from the funeral?!”

—Not yet. I was just looking into funeral homes for the three of you. Thought I’d send you off together—beautiful weather today and all.

“Are you insane?! Go finish the damn funeral! We’re all fine!”

—Then why the fuck aren’t you answering your phones?!

Baekgyeong’s voice exploded through the receiver. Anna had to hold the phone away; it was deafening.

—I’ve called you hundreds, thousands of times!

“...W-we...”

—Where the fuck is Yoon Siron?! Where the fuck is he?!

It was just a phone call, but Anna felt like Baekgyeong’s eyes were piercing her through the receiver. The madness in his voice was like a possessed demon. She had to do something—anything—to calm him down and keep him away.

Anna spoke the contingency lie she’d rehearsed countless times.

“All three of us had our phones stolen.”

—What?

“Someone broke the car window while we were eating tacos. Took everything... I even lost my bag. I don’t have my wallet right now.”

She felt the fire of his fury cool as if doused with ice water. After a long silence, Baekgyeong asked in a hoarse voice:

—What’s Yoon Siron doing now?

“He went home.”

—His ass safe? Fuck, it’s not busted open, right?

She didn’t even know if Siron was alive, let alone safe. Anna nearly dropped the phone but forced herself to stay composed.

“It’s probably safe. And that... was already open to begin with.”

—Sure. So why the fuck did you send him to that goddamn apartment?

“He’s the one in heat. We locked him in the panic room because the suppressant schedule was off. Sent Siron home so he wouldn’t be affected.”

Anna spoke calmly, with the one bit of truth she could offer.

“It’s fine. Just focus on the funeral. Do it right. Don’t regret it later. Huh? ...Yes, one second. I’m on my way.”

She pulled the phone away like someone was calling for her, pretending.

—Don’t hang up! Tell Yoon Siron to call me right—

“Sorry! I’ve got to respond to a call! Hanging up!”

As if a sudden emergency had struck, Anna rushed her words and ended the call. She placed the phone down, avoiding Ria’s wide-eyed stare.

“What the hell kind of call was that?”

“Huh? What?”

“Phones getting stolen, someone at a funeral, someone locked in a panic room... Are you filming a crime drama?”

“...I’ll give you the other earring if you promise to keep your mouth shut forever.”

Ria stared at her for a second, then nodded like it was a good deal. With a playful, shameless smile, she added:

“Forget what I said earlier. Honestly? I love siding with other women.”

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