Missing at Lake Missouri

A nine-year old girl goes missing, allegedly.

Our homes matter. It’s the place we feel safe. Where we retreat to when the day didn’t go as planned. We share meals with our loved ones there. We make memories and plans. We let our guard down.

But what happens when we feel threatened or something doesn’t go the way we think it should in our own backyards?

Welcome to another Cal Brink File.

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July 4, 2026

“Ava,” a thirty-something woman was calling. She was clearly looking for her child.

This scene had been repeating itself since Cal Brink had sat down about an hour ago in an Adirondack chair with an Ad Astra Ale in hand. The chair, and the porch on which it sat, belonged to Mike and Laura. This place had been their home since 2017 when Cal had been their real estate agent. It was a light-blue two story overlooking an eastern cove on Lake Missouri, just outside of Kansas City.

Their backyard kissed the water and a short gangway took them to their pontoon. It was the perfect place for empty-nesters to enjoy the life they had built. A great place to make memories with their grandchildren, who were running around here with the other pre-teens.

Mike, Laura and Shawna Brink were two houses away in line to get lunch: a pig cooked over an open fire since five this morning with all the side dishes the neighborhood could bring. A couple of hundred people talked and laughed and reached for another beer.

There was comfort between people here. Neighbors seldom moved in or out. Families passed houses down to their children, or their children bought the home of someone who passed away recently.

Norman Rockwell would have loved this community, thought Cal.

In front of Cal was quite the scene celebrating the birth of the United States two-hundred and fifty years ago. Patriotic symbolism was everywhere. American flags flew on the decks and boats while people wore red, white, and blue swimsuits, tops, and hats.

The occasional pop of a firecracker or boom of half stick added to the day. Adults and kids floated through the cove on pontoons and speedboats at well below wake-speed before reaching the end and returning to the main lake. The puffy clouds reflected off the water and the sound of laugher and excitement filled the air.

There was a line of people, from eight to eighty-years old, jumping off the second story of a floating dock just to feel the wind rush before the inevitable splash. All the while a local musician played cover songs through the amplifiers he had brought in and pointed to the cove, not fifty feet in front and to the side from where Cal sat.

Leaning into the microphone the musician was currently singing out his scaled down version of Feathered Indians by Tyler Childers while a few watched and most were engaged in other conversations.

Right on cue, an A-10 Thunderbolt II cruised the lake several times to announce Air Force presence on this day of celebration.

What would the founding fathers think of this? Cal considered as he stood to get another beer out of the cooler before returning to his front row seat to watch the interactions.

Louder than the music, someone called out for Ava again. This time it was a man’s voice, though Cal didn’t see him.

When Shawna returned with Mike and Laura, she announced, “I got enough to share.” She was smiling because she knew that Cal would eat something off her plate. She had also guessed that Cal was more likely to eat than he had let on. He had walked with the trio to the food line, saw how long it was and said, “I’m out.”

Right on brand, Shawna thought. They had been married forty-years. Of course, she knew.

The calls for Ava were becoming more frantic. Cal watched as the mom’s steps had quickened and became more unsure. The dad was now questioning others with a more aggressive posture. Nobody was really stopping, yet, to see if they could help.

The situation was escalating. Cal decided to keep a close eye on the next few minutes.

“You want some green beans?” Shawna inquired.

“Is that key lime pie?” Cal asked, ignoring everything else on the plate.

“You wouldn’t have to walk so much if you would eat right,” Shawna responded.

Cal answered quickly, “I’m sixty-one. I’ve had a good run. Not gonna die eating kale. Besides, I’ll go on another walk when I’m done with this beer. Keep the blood moving.”

“How many steps a day do you do?” Mike asked.

Cal turned his head. “An absolute minimum of twelve thousand. Your rolling hills here make it more fun.”

Ava was now being called for by three or four parents. Most of the people eating or drinking or jumping were still paying little attention.

Cal continued, “Who is Ava?”

“The cutest little girl,” Laura responded. “She likes to bring me flowers she picks along the road out front.”

Mike tilted his head. “Why do you ask?”

The musician had stopped playing long enough that Cal turned his attention back to the temporary stage, which was really the back deck of the neighbor’s house. A group of adults was huddling around the performer. Within moments, “Ava Franklin. Ava Franklin. Please report to your mother. It’s time to eat,” was being announced through the P.A. system the solo musician had lugged in earlier.

Cal pointed to the announcer as he said, “That’s why.”

“I wonder where she could be?” Laura said.

“She’ll turn up. She likes to explore,” Mike said to no one in particular.

Cal asked, “Can you describe her?”

Mike took the lead. “About this high,” he said while holding his hand up about four feet above the ground. “Ava has blonde hair and can’t weigh much.”

“And a blue swimsuit,” Laura added quickly.

“She was wearing an orange life preserver?” Cal asked.

Laura nodded. “Yes. That’s her.”

Cal said, “I saw her out on my walk. She was headed south. I assumed she was joining the other kids playing down by the end of the cove. That’s about the time I turned around to come back.”

“She lives north,” Mike said as he put down his plate on the firepit ledge in front of his chair and stood up before announcing, “I’ll go see what’s going on.” He walked over to huddle with the other parents as a buzz was beginning to spread throughout the festivities.

“Laura, Mike said she likes to explore. What did that mean?” Cal asked.

“Oh, she is the youngest of three. Her older sisters are ten and twelve years older. One still lives at home and drives that old red Corvette you commented on earlier. Hunk of junk, really,” Laura said with a bit of judgment dripping from her words.

“The other is living in Columbia over the summer taking a couple of classes and working. Ava will follow them just about anywhere and never feels the need to tell her mom where she is going.” Laura let that dangle before continuing. “That’s why this seems weird. Her parents are used to this, and everyone around here looks out for each other. We know who the strangers are.”

“There are a lot of strangers here today,” Cal pointed out. “And everyone is distracted. I could walk in, remove a TV and put it in my car and nobody would notice.”

Laura said, “I don’t recommend that.”

Cal observed Laura getting more anxious before she stood up and walked over to join her husband with the gathering mass of parents who appeared to be organizing.

Shawna looked at Cal, “Do you think she’s okay?”

Cal didn’t respond immediately. He was thinking through what he saw on his walk. The little blonde was walking towards the cove. There were other pre-teen kids down there doing whatever kids do. A couple were knee deep in the water.

Shortly after Cal turned to walk back to the house, he heard a vehicle from behind him coming around the bend and down to the cove before stopping, a door closing and then continuing, eventually passing Cal on the narrow road, not really offering much room for Cal’s comfort.

Was it a dark blue Honda? How many people were in the car?

Cal chastised himself for being more interested in the World Cup scores on his phone than paying attention to his surroundings.

“I hope so,” Cal said more to himself than Shawna.

Cal sat there and watched the group as they organized. Soon, some were walking down to the shoreline before splitting up, some going north along the shore, the others going south. Still others walked quickly by as they went up the driveway headed for the street. And quite a few split up and went opposite directions to walk the invisible paths between the houses.

Growing concern and purpose were bleeding through the earlier joy and libations.

When Mike and Laura returned, Mike announced, “I’m going with these guys to walk the yards. She’s gotta be here someplace. Cal, the parents are worried. Think you could help?”

Before Cal had an opportunity to answer he heard, “That’s him, in the blue hat.”

Mike glanced over at the man coming from behind Cal before Cal had a chance to turn his head around. When Cal did stand up and face the man, he saw he was still about fifteen feet away and closing fast, flanked by two Lake Missouri police officers.

Cal stood still. He could feel the eyes on him.

The man with the U.S.A. t-shirt, American flag swim trunks and yellow Gadsden flag hat said, “He was following her down the street toward the cove. I saw him when I ran back to refill the cooler. I didn’t think anything about it until Ava came up missing. But this can’t be a coincidence.”

Both police officers had walked into Cal’s orbit, less than three feet away before stopping. One stood in front of Cal showing off his superior height and weight. The other, about forty-five degrees to Cal’s right was slimmer and closer to Cal’s five-feet, eight inches.

“He’s right,” Cal said.

As the police officers sized him up a small group of people began to gather, including the man and woman who were originally calling for Ava: her mom and dad.

“Your identification,” demanded the taller officer who stood directly in front of Cal.

“Cal Brink, a friend of mine, Steve,” Mike announced.

The taller officer looked at Mike, nodded, and then returned his gaze to Cal. “Identification.”

“I can show you a driver’s license on my phone. But I don’t usually carry a wallet in my swimsuit,” Cal responded.

“Mike! Who is this man?” Ava’s mom cried, her voice on edge.

Cal raised his hand to signal Mike to not answer. He looked at Officer Steve and said, “I’m going to walk over to that table and pick up my mobile, find my driver’s license and then hand it to you. We good?”

The officer nodded.

As Cal began to walk, he stopped, pivoted and said to Ava’s father, “I need you to call your daughter. The one that drives a dark blue Honda or Toyota or Kia. Something like that.”

The other, shorter officer took a step toward Cal and stated, “Stop talking and get the phone.”

Cal turned back to the phone and reached to pick it up. “Call your daughter, sir.”

“She’s in Columbia at summer school,” Ava’s dad responded.

The shorter officer grabbed Cal’s arm, took his phone and demanded he sit. After realizing he couldn’t open the phone, the officer handed the phone back to Cal, commanded that he open it and not say another word.

“Brittany? Dad. You still at school?” Ava’s dad said as he turned to walk away from the gathering.

After taking a few moments extra to open his phone and find his license, Cal handed his phone back to the other officer. The shorter officer took the phone and stepped away to call it in and see what he could find out about the outsider in the Jayhawks hat who had admitted to following Ava.

“What?” came loud enough from Ava’s dad that most of the group of people turned to look at him, including Officer Steve.

Ava’s dad hung up the phone, looked up the driveway sheepishly and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Ava. Please tell us when you are going somewhere.”

Coming down the driveway into clear view of everyone gathered was Ava and her older sister Brittany, who was supposed to be at school ninety minutes away. On Ava’s face was the slightest hint of chocolate ice cream.

“Sorry, daddy,” Ava started. “Britt picked me up and we went up to Sunshine for an ice cream.”

“Sorry, dad. I called but you didn’t answer,” Brittany added.

The other police officer was just coming back to the crowd without paying attention to the updates. “He’s clean as far as records go,” he stated before seeing Ava. Then he rolled his eyes as his head turned to the right.

Mike looked at Officer Steve. “I think you owe my guest an apology.”

Officer Steve bristled.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s doing what he is supposed to do.” Cal said it magnanimously. But inside he was circling.

His heart rate was racing; his brain still going full tilt. He could see it all now. He could also feel it all. He glanced at Ava’s mother who still looked at him with disdain. She had already filed him away as a threat to her family. That wasn’t going to change.

Cal knew apologies and facts don’t put these kinds of accusations back in the box. Now it was his turn to feel the burden he had given to so many over the years. Braum’s face flashed.

The ends justify the means; the rest is just collateral damage, he told himself.

Slowly, everyone began returning to their food, drinks and friends. Ava’s father doubled back to say, “Thank you and sorry,” to Cal.

Eventually Mike, Laura and Shawna were back in their Adirondack chairs and taking in the happenings. Cal excused himself to the bathroom. His time was spent washing his face, leaning against the sink and staring into the mirror.

After a few minutes alone, Cal exhaled slowly, opened the bathroom door and walked back to the others, taking his seat next to Shawna.

“How’d you figure it out?” Mike asked.

Shawna responded first. “He won’t know.”

“I do know,” Cal shot back, his adrenaline still normalizing. “Well, sort of. I can’t tell you why I knew the car was involved. But I can tell you if you are abducting someone you don’t drive away smoothly. Too much of an energy rush. That car drove away slowly. Purposefully. Like normal.

And she was close enough to the other kids that I think they would’ve known if anyone had stopped to ask them. Kids are more observant than we give them credit for.”

After a moment of silence, Mike asked, “But how did you know it was her sister? She’s not supposed to be here.”

Cal gave it a beat before answering. “That was an educated guess. Ava is the youngest of three, so it stands to reason that she has different rules than the older kids had. Number three gets more freedom which usually means they become more aware at a younger age. Besides, who else would be able to stop a car and convince a nine-year old to get in the car so quickly? And if it was her other sister that picked her up, well, I would have noticed the red Corvette. It had to be Brittany.”

Shawna interrupted Cal’s moment. “Here’s your key lime pie. You earned it.”

“I didn’t earn anything,” said Cal. “She was always coming home after the ice cream.”

Author’s Inquiry

Q: "Have you ever been in a situation where you were completely innocent but felt the weight of suspicion anyway? What did that feel like?"

Lastly

If you are looking for more crime fiction fun, especially on the noir side of town, I encourage you to visit Forge City for depression era crime fiction.

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