He stepped back, hand instinctively moving to his radio.
“Dispatch… I need additional units. And send forensics.”
His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now.
He leaned back in, more carefully this time.
That’s when he saw it.
A dark stain, partially soaked into the fabric of the rear seat.
Blood.
Not a small amount. Enough to suggest something serious had happened inside that vehicle.
But there was no body.
No obvious signs of a struggle outside the car.
No footprints visible in the dim light.
Just silence.
Backup Arrives
Within minutes, the quiet road was no longer quiet.
Flashing lights painted the trees in red and blue. Officers moved with controlled urgency, setting up a perimeter, documenting the scene, ensuring nothing was disturbed unnecessarily.
Detective Salma Rachidi arrived shortly after.
She had a reputation for being thorough, methodical, and unshaken by the unexpected. But even she paused for a moment when she saw the inside of the car.
“Walk me through it,” she said to Karim.
He did.
Every detail. Every observation.
She listened without interrupting, her eyes scanning the vehicle, noting the placement of each item, each irregularity.
“No signs of forced entry?” she asked.
“None,” Karim replied. “Door was slightly open when I arrived.”
“Engine cold?”
“Yes. Likely been here for hours.”
Salma nodded.
“Alright,” she said quietly. “Let’s treat this as a potential crime scene.”
The Investigation Begins
Forensics worked meticulously.
Every surface was photographed. Every item cataloged. The blood was sampled, the scattered belongings examined.
Inside the backpack, they found a wallet.
Identification.
A name: Youssef El Idrissi.
Twenty-eight years old.
Local resident.
No criminal record.
A quick check confirmed the car was registered to him.
But where was he?
There were no immediate answers.
No witnesses had reported seeing anything unusual. No nearby homes had security cameras covering that stretch of road. The area was, in many ways, a blind spot.
Which made it the perfect place for something to happen unseen.
The First Clue
It came from something small.
Almost overlooked.
A receipt.
Crumpled, partially tucked beneath the passenger seat.
Time-stamped earlier that day—2:14 PM.
Location: a café in town.
Salma held it up, studying it.
“If this is his,” she said, “it might be the last confirmed place he was seen.”
She turned to Karim.
“Let’s start there.”
The Café
The café was busy when they arrived.
Warm light spilled onto the street, the hum of conversation filling the air. It felt like a different world compared to the cold stillness of the road.
The manager recognized Youssef immediately.
“Yes, he was here,” he said. “Earlier this afternoon. Around two.”
“Was he alone?” Salma asked.
The manager hesitated.
“No… actually. He was meeting someone.”
That changed things.
“Do you know who?” Karim asked.
The manager shook his head.
