Joel opened his eyes and noticed something different about his room, he was lying on his side facing the heavily curtained windows and could only make out their vague shapes as  dark shadows against the wall. He brought his left arm up close to his face and could just make out the faint green luminescence of the hands indicating it was 7:38 am; he was one of a dying breed who still wore a physical watch. He looked back in the direction of the windows and realized the light which should have been around the edges of the curtains, was missing today.

Joel swung his legs out from under the covers and over the side and used their downward momentum as leverage to sit-up. He remembered when he was younger, hearing old people talk endlessly about their aches and pains, now in his fifties he understood. The last year he had played softball, just before his 50th birthday, he would pull something in his leg or arm and would feel the pain for months afterwards.

Joel stared straight ahead for a few minutes, still seated on the edge of his bed, he could feel the air around his exposed ankles and feet was colder than normal and he had a dull ache behind his eyes, a sure sign the atmospheric pressure had changed.

What Joel did not know, was that a large Canadian air mass had moved rapidly through the northern and mid-sections of the state during the night, dropping the mercury by 10 degrees in its wake. The mean temperature outside his hotel now stood at a frigid 9 degrees Fahrenheit.

There had been something gnawing at Joel all week and he had been trying to ignore it. He had a feeling there was something significant about the 100 year anniversary of Mary’s disappearance which was nine days away. Logically, he knew it was an arbitrary date on the calendar, but was it? Was there some unwritten statute of limitations in the spiritual world that cut you off from learning the truth at the 100 year mark? Joel’s investigative techniques were methodical and he did not like the idea of fighting a deadline on-top of having razor thin evidence to go on.

Joel had a dull memory of having had the dream again, the pretty face floating within a world of white, but it was all jumbled and incoherent like dreams can be. He shook his head and said, “man you are letting this case get to you, just relax.” The self-talk was falling on deaf ears though, five minutes later in the shower his strategy for solving the case now involved working within the context of an eminent deadline.