14. A Twist in the Road

When the two of them emerged from the drainage pipe, it was just noon. The blazing sunlight instantly dispelled the damp chill and gloom clinging to their bodies.

They climbed into the truck. Rust turned the steering wheel, the F-150 slowly reversing.

“So, what now? Are we going to start popping manhole covers in the South District? I thought about it—Alex had a point. Why would a junkie, barely able to feed himself, cover for Mona and help her get away with it?”

“But if she didn’t lie to me, if she really took the money and ran,” Dean leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, feeling the jostle of the truck, his temples throbbing, “where would she have gone?”

“That’s for you to answer. I remember you said she went missing the day after you guys went to a movie—April 19th, right?”

The truck rolled back onto the smooth main road.

“Around six-thirty in the evening, she and I parted ways outside the theater.”

Dean watched the scenery flash by outside the window, the scene from that day clear in his mind. With investigation one finished, his predecessor’s memories had returned to him, whole.

“I’d planned to go with her to see the stilt-walkers downtown, but she insisted I go home.”

“That’s odd.” Rust swished saliva in his mouth, spit it out the window. “That’s the beginning of the night, prime time for couples to hang out and build up some romance.”

“It was the day before my birthday…” Dean blurted out, “She wanted to prepare a surprise for me.”

“I see. So, we can assume,” Rust’s thoughts snapped into focus, “since she planned to give you a birthday present the next day, she’d need to make sure of it, maybe go pick it up the night before. But she didn’t want you to find out, so she hurried you away.”

Dean shot him a surprised glance. Rust stuck out his chin, analyzing further.

“Let’s go with Alex’s version for now and trust Mona. If she didn’t run away with your money, there’s only one possibility—she met with some kind of accident.”

Dean’s shoulders trembled involuntarily, his feelings tangled.

His predecessor, that big fool, would rather swallow the bitter fruit himself than face the idea that Mona had come to harm.

“And according to you, the incident would have happened sometime between six-thirty on the evening of the 19th and seven in the morning on the 20th, when the theater opened.”

“Now we need to figure out, where was she most likely during that window?”

“After she left the theater… maybe at the shop buying my birthday gift?” Dean said in a low voice.

“I’d say a birthday cake would be a nice surprise.” Rust turned the wheel. “Let’s head to the bakery next to Super Lo Cinema and ask around.”

“You forget—I don’t care much for sweets, and Mona knew that. The surprise couldn’t have been a cake.” Dean shook his head. Rust’s expression froze, the air of a master detective slipping away.

“So what would the gift most likely be?” Rust frowned, deep in thought.

“I go to the movies every week, to watch those films you think are deadly dull.” Dean’s eyes lit up, recalling the movie posters that once covered his bedroom wall. “And my favorite film is—May the force be with you!”

“May the force be with you!” Rust exclaimed, realization dawning. “Star Wars!”

“Let’s check the movie memorabilia shops!”

…

With their direction clear, they hurried to the largest film collectibles store near the cinema and showed Mona’s picture to the clerk.

“Sorry…I don’t recognize her,” said the young clerk in a red T-shirt, looking blank. “We get hundreds of customers a day. Unless she’s a regular, I wouldn’t remember.”

“Is there any chance I could look at your security footage? From about half a month ago, April 19th?” Dean pressed, discreetly pulling out a ten-dollar bill.

“Sorry, this isn’t a department store—we don’t have those fancy, useless electronics.” The clerk shook his head, regretful.

Only then did Dean realize it was still the eighties—even in Las Vegas, surveillance was mostly limited to the casinos. There were barely any cameras on this street.

They tried two more shops of similar size, but got the same answer—

The last stop.

Five miles east of Super Lo Cinema, a quiet, out-of-the-way movie memorabilia shop sat on a street corner. Colorful lights twinkled around the sign: Raymond’s House.

Dean and Rust stepped through the glass door, glancing around. Compared to the previous three stores, this one was far from downtown and much smaller, more like an old bookstore.

Black shelves lined every wall, crowded with movie memorabilia: oil-painting-style posters—Alien, Dawn of the Dead—delicate models: flasks, pocket watches, earrings, and other props.

Even the counter was heaped high with VHS tapes, stacked like black blindfolds.

The whole place felt remarkably full, almost cluttered.

Dean looked to the left. At the most prominent spot on the counter stood a life-sized statue—Luke Skywalker, in white greaves and robes, lightsaber in hand.

Dean couldn’t help but walk over.

“You like Star Wars too?” The plump man behind the counter pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Of course. No Jedi can resist a lightsaber.” Dean swept his arm up from his chest and shouted, “May the force be with you!”

“May the force be with you!” the shop owner replied, rising from his chair, his heavy frame swaying, voice ringing.

Dean paused, startled by his own body’s involuntary, almost theatrical gesture.

Rust covered his face, unable to watch. Why was his buddy suddenly acting like this?

“Young Jedi, you’re in luck. Before long, the second film, The Empire Strikes Back, will premiere. Let me share a secret—” The shop owner beckoned him closer. “This film will reveal a huge secret about Luke Skywalker’s parentage!”

Gasp—

Dean played along, adopting a “shocked and excited” expression, though he swore it wasn’t his own intention.

“All right, young Jedi, tell me—what secret mission brings you here today? If you need a new lightsaber, you’ll have to wait a week—we’re out of stock until next shipment!”

“Master Jedi,” Dean forced down his discomfort and played along, “to resist the dark lord’s minions, I need your help. I’m looking for someone—do you recognize her?”

He showed Mona’s picture for the fourth time.

The man squinted behind his glasses, then replied without hesitation, “Oh, her. I remember her—a lady with a beautiful smile!”

“You saw her? Was it about half a month ago?” Dean’s voice trembled with surprise and dread. Rust pumped his fist, excited.

“How did you know?” The man sized Dean up, then realization dawned. “You must be her boyfriend.”

“She mentioned me?”

He nodded, pushing two chairs around from behind the desk, motioning for them to sit, then settled himself into a rocking chair just big enough for his frame.

The chair rocked as he spoke, his voice drifting like smoke.

“So why didn’t she come with you this time?”

“I haven’t seen her for a while. I’m looking for her.” Dean sighed.

“Had a fight? Broke up? What a shame, young Skywalker. Should’ve been more understanding. Miss her, and you miss your Princess Leia.”

The shop owner showed no attempt to hide the regret on his face.

Dean explained, “I’ve asked at other shops, but none remembered her. Half a month is a long time, but you—”

“If it were someone else, I might not remember. But Mona made quite an impression. I don’t know how she found out, but I own a Luke Skywalker autographed poster—‘Mark Hamill, May the force be with you’. The only one in Las Vegas.”

“For about fifteen days, she came to the shop every day, asking me to sell her the poster. She said it was a birthday gift for her boyfriend.”

“But it was one of my not-for-sale treasures, something I wanted to pass down to my son and granddaughter. Maybe it’ll be worth a fortune in a few decades.”

Dean listened in silence, his heart tightening, a sense of foreboding rising.

Rust glanced at his tense face and took a deep breath.

“But Mona didn’t give up when I refused her. She’d come by every day when she could, but she never pestered or harassed me.” The shop owner’s tone shifted, a touch of surprise and amusement. “Instead, she started helping me clean the shop, tidy up, help customers… basically a free assistant, never mentioning the poster again.”

“I’m an old man, and I like to ramble sometimes. She was never impatient—she was a perfect listener.”

He sighed, “In all my years, I’ve rarely met a girl so kind and thoughtful. If my son weren’t married, I’d have made him pursue Mona.”

Mona.

The kindest girl I’ve ever known.

Dean’s face went pale. The junkie Alex’s words echoed in his mind.

“Did you sell it to her in the end?”

“Sell?” The shop owner bristled, almost offended. “I gave it to her, free of charge. I couldn’t refuse such a sweet girl.”

“To be honest, an actor’s autograph poster is only priceless to a few fans. For most, it’s nothing. If I could make Mona’s wish come true, I was glad to do it!”

“So… Mona… did she come here on the 19th?”

“You don’t look so well.”

“I’m fine.”

“I remember her saying her boyfriend’s birthday was April 20th, so I told her to come pick it up on the evening of the 19th.” The shop owner shrugged, suddenly a little sad. “Forgive my selfishness. I just wanted to see her smile a few more times. But after she took the poster, she never came back.”

He gazed at the towering shelves, falling silent. This conversation overturned all of Dean and Rust’s initial assumptions.

Dean held his breath. A vision he’d seen in the cinema flashed before his eyes—

“I begged someone for this birthday present for ages. I won’t let you down!” Mona’s voice, playful, her fist in the air.

So Mona hadn’t lied. She’d worked so hard to ask for a gift, preparing a birthday surprise for her boyfriend.

If she never gave it, how could she have left or hidden away for no reason?

The shop owner’s words, coupled with Dean’s recovered memories, proved it—Mona had never deceived or betrayed his predecessor.

It was the exact opposite of what the theater cashier had said, and of what he’d believed.

A dramatic reversal.

“No wonder the system event described Mona as ‘someone who might deceive me.’”

“Might… but didn’t.”

“Dean, you weren’t deceived or abandoned. Your feelings weren’t wasted.”

A surge of anger blazed in his chest.

If his predecessor had known the truth, he would’ve moved heaven and earth to find Mona—he’d never have killed himself!

He died such an unjust death!

…

Buzz—

The system vibrated.

Dean saw the “Find Mona” progress leap by twenty percent, hitting thirty.

This conversation had completely changed the direction of his investigation—no need to go to Los Angeles.

Mona was definitely still somewhere in Las Vegas.

“What time did she leave your shop?” Dean pressed, unable to hide his urgency.

“Hold on, let me tell you something. After she got the poster, she finally opened up and told me her plans for the future. I could tell, she was a little mature for her age, a bit insecure. She loved to make you happy.”

The shop owner propped his chin in his hand, his weathered voice full of warmth.

“She wanted to move with you after you got into college. While you studied, she’d work nearby to help support you. Then, after you graduated and found a job, if you still loved her, if you wanted, she’d—”

He paused, looking Dean square in the eye, envy burning in his gaze.

“Propose to you.”

What?

Dean’s face twisted into a strange smile, but as he smiled, tears welled up and spilled over.

She, a girl, wanted to propose to the man he once was—a weak, unpopular Asian nobody.

He wiped his tears, finally understanding why his predecessor had been so obsessed with Mona, so unwilling to call the police.

Mona was worth everything.

“We talked for a long time… She left just before closing, around ten.”

The shop owner sighed.

“After that, she never came back. I thought she was living happily with you, but I guess not. Kid, Mona’s a girl who shines—you can’t let her slip away.”

“Go win her back.”

…