Manhunt. Volume 9, Number 1, February 1961

“The time for your mother to get worried was six months ago,” Delaney said sharply. “Let’s start over again. Suppose you fill in the background this time.”

Eunice had a stricken look on her pale, fox-like face when she spoke again.

“Father passed away several years ago. Since then mother has operated a little cafe in Benson where we girls were born and raised. Mavis and I had to help mother in the cafe. But Mavis didn’t like it. She was too restless. Finally she went to stay with Uncle Jim Kennedy in Tucson.

“Mavis stayed with Uncle Jim for three years, then she came home. But she wasn’t happy. Mavis was home only a few weeks when she left again. This time she went to Los Angeles.”

Delaney grunted with impatience. “How long ago was that?”

“A... a little over a year ago,” Eunice replied.

“And—?” Delaney prompted her bruskly.

“Mavis wrote us every week. Such cheerful letters. Then she stopped writing.” Eunice looked at Delaney helplessly.

“Just like that? Her letters didn’t become fewer and farther between?” Delaney watched Eunice closely.

“They... they just stopped coming,” Eunice faltered. Then, lifting her chin, she added complacently, “So I came to Los Angeles to see Mavis.”

“But you waited six months to do it. You sure worried about your precious sister,” Delaney said disgustedly.

“I... I had to help mother,” Eunice protested tearfully.

Delaney shook his head. “I don’t get it. If you were so upset by what you found here, why didn’t you go to the police?”

“Oh no. Mavis wouldn’t like that,” Eunice said firmly.

“This is a big city,” Delaney said flatly. “There’s more than two million people here. The police have organization, manpower, equipment—”

“Please. Won’t you help me?” Eunice pleaded. Her hand dove into her purse and came up with a wad of money.

Taken back, Delaney stared at the roll of bills which had partially opened in her hand. He could see several fifties and some twenties. He estimated she was holding six or seven hundred dollars in her hand.

Eunice said cautiously: “I’m willing to pay you something in advance. How much will it cost?”

She peeled off three fifties, then hesitantly added one more. Eunice shoved the four bills across the desk and put the others back in her purse. When Delaney didn’t pick up the bills, she got a pinched, frightened look on her face. She patted the money, pushing it closer to him, and asked in a small voice: “What’s the matter — isn’t that enough?”

Delaney hesitated, looking at her narrowly. Then, without touching the money, he asked, “What does Mavis look like?”

Eunice eased back in her chair and let her breath out slowly. She smiled at him for the first time and crossed her legs.

Surprised, Delaney caught a glimpse of smooth satiny roundness — a flash of gleaming ivory above nylons tightly rolled to slim, shapely knees. He looked at Eunice more closely and noted the firm, natural fullness under her frilly white blouse.

Eunice spoke hurriedly, watching his eyes. “Mavis is taller than I am. She has brown hair, wavy and full of highlights — not dull and flat like mine. And... and she’s very pretty.” Eunice dove into her bag and came up with a snapshot.

The picture was clear, with good detail and definition. It showed a woman about three years older than Eunice with bold, striking features. The eyes were large and widely spaced above prominent cheek bones. The nose was large and slightly up tilted above full, sensual lips framing a generous mouth. It was the face of a woman given to reckless impulses, not restraint. Mavis was wearing a white linen dress which clung to her show-girl figure and accented an exciting collection of lush curves. Delaney decided Mavis was quite a dish.

He studied the features and a puzzled frown creased his forehead. He looked at Eunice. “Your sister—?”

“My — half sister. My mother was married before.”

Eunice spoke diffidently while a wave of color mounted into her face. She dropped her gaze and slowly uncrossed her legs, revealing more than was necessary. She dove into her bag again.

“Here’s Mavis’ address. The one I went to. You... you’ll start looking for her right away?”

Eunice left her chair and laid a pencilled slip of paper on Delaney’s desk. She stood expectantly while her eyes questioned him.

Delaney rose to his feet, slowly shaking his head. He picked up the money, folding it, and pressed it into her hand. He said: “You’d better go to the police, Eunice.”

“But why? I... I don’t understand,” she cried, her eyes filling with tears.

“Like I said before, this is a big city. I’m only one guy. I can’t take your money,” Delaney said flatly.

Putting the bills in her purse, Eunice turned blindly towards the door. Her figure sagged and her heels dragged across the floor.

Delaney started to speak, then shrugged his shoulders. He rounded his desk with a grin and lifted her hat from her head.

Startled, Eunice was too surprised to move.

“Leave it off when you go to the cops,” he suggested softly.