The Last Note

The stale air of the airport terminal clung to James Russo as he scanned the arriving passengers. Another minute ticked by. Typical Olivia, always late. He spotted her then, a burst of sunshine in the mundane crowd, a bright smile on her face, her familiar brunette hair pulled into a bun.
"Cinderella, you're late," he called out, a small smile playing on his lips.
"I know, you oompa loompa," she shot back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
It felt good to have her back. As they settled into the car, the conversation turned to the case that had been consuming his thoughts – the missing photographers. This was the third one in six months, and this time, it felt personal. The first victim had been Alexa, Olivia’s best friend. He explained the details, watching Olivia's expression grow serious. The concern in her eyes mirrored his own anxieties.