It all started on a Saturday morning. I was sitting at my desk, legs up, as is the casual style, when a middle aged woman came through my doorway, sobbing.

"Woah, woah, woah," I told her, which probably wasn't the best way to start a conversation with a lady who looked as if she had just lost her husband in a creepy abandoned mall.

"What's the matter?" I asked, popping a cigar into my mouth. After calming down, she told me the story.

"I need to file a missing persons report, but the police won't do it for me. I-I-I've lost my husband!" she stuttered, bursting into tears. This was starting to get good, I needed some money after all, business had been slow recently.

"Where did you last see him?" I asked, in my most nonchalant voice I had, pulling out a notepad. She stuttered, trying to think, but finally came up with the answer.

"Um, um, it was at the abandoned factory on Hill Street," she started crying big fat tears again, "We like exploring, so we broke into the factory, looking for adventure!"

'Holy coincidence!' I thought to myself, 'I almost predicted what had happened!' I tried to remain calm, even though I just discovered a rare ability called luck.

"Well ma'm," I responded, scolding her, "First off, you're not supposed to be in abandoned factories. Second, I can help you in your case. We'll discuss the fee later, but it'll be a pretty big one."

"Thank you soooo much!" she exclaimed, "no police would help at all, so I decided to look for a private investigator. I knew you would help!"

"Whoa there, don't get too worked up, I can't guarantee that I'll find him," I responded, so I wouldn't let her down if I couldn't come through.

'It is just an abandoned factory, though," I thought to myself, 'How hard could it be to find someone."

I was about to be proved very wrong.

The woman, whose name was Marie, led me through town like I was a dog on a leash.

"Alright," I finally asked, "Where are we going, because I have some coffee on my desk that's getting cold."

"It's not much farther," she responded in a hopeful voice, "I need you to find him, marrying him was the best thing that ever happened to me." She started sobbing again.

"Woah, Lady, don't cry," This was happening too much, "Everything's going to be fine."

'I hope,' I thought to myself.

After about half-an-hour of walking, we arrived at the old textile factory. The old brick was crumbling, the building already deemed unsafe by the health inspectors, and ready for destruction. It was by far the biggest building in town, at least four or five stories tall, and taking up a whole city block. I let out a breath of air between my teeth. Why did I do this job?

"Okay, ma'm," I started, "We can't go in there, because in case you didn't notice, there's a big sign on the fence, that says 'No Trespassing, Unsafe Grounds.'So unless you want to get crushed by some bricks, then stay out here, and I can find some help for you in, let's say, nine days."

"I can't do that!" she sobbed, "He could be dying in there, and there would be no help!"

"Well, that would make two of you then, if you went in there," I stated.

"But I can't leave him!" she wailed. How did I end up with all the nutcases.

"You are just going to have to keep calm while I find you help," I tried to persuade her. She opened her mouth in response, then closed it and eyed the fence. I knew what she was going to do before she did it, but boy was she fast. In one swift motion, she scaled the chain link fence, and dropped down on the other side. Without looking back, she rushed forward and into the factory. I sighed, this wasn't going to be easy. Reaching for my phone, I dialed 911.

"Hello officer," I greeted him, "I'm over by the old textile factory. I need help, because one of my clients just went inside. Also, be careful, she's a real nutcase."

The police arrived in five minutes, two minutes slower than when they said they would get here. They slowly opened the door, and got out of the car. Now I could see why Marie was frustrated with the police department. They had given me the fattest cop they had, and an emo looking woman.

'What is happening to this world?' I thought to myself.

"What seems to be your problem?" the fat cop asked, picking crumbs from his beard. Disgusting. But I still responded.

"My client just ran into the old factory," I explained, gesturing to the old building, "She said that her husband had disappeared in their, and wanted my help. When I told her that I would need some specialists to enter the building, she ran off." The man was looking down at his beard, trying to lick some crumbs away. He looked up at me.

"Uh, what?" he asked, "sorry, I got a little side-tracked." The lady cop stepped forward. She was about five foot four, with hair like Doctor Orchid from Clue. Now I couldn't stop picturing the two being sisters.

"It's okay Frank, I can handle this," she told the fat cop, then turned to me, "Do you know her name?" she asked, pulling out a pad.

"Marie," I responded, "but that was all. I didn't get a last name." She started writing stuff down on the notepad.

"And why did she enter the factory?" she asked me.

"She said that her husband was in there, and went to look for him,"

"Okay," the cop responded, "I'll need to go back to your office to see some paperwork, and your documents of authenticity, proving you to be a detective."

"Can you at least look for her first?" I pressed. I didn't want news getting around that one of my clients disappeared. That could take away the little business that I had.

"The building is structurally unstable," the woman responded, "We will need to bring in experts." With that, she and the other cop, who was still picking crumbs from his beard, turned and got in their car.

"I'll meet you at your office," the woman told me, "What's the address?" After telling her, I looked at the building for a few more minutes, then started the long walk to my office. I should've hitched a ride with the officers.