Looking For An Honest Man Chapters 5 & 6

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Chapter 5

“Hello, dear. How did your appointment go? Did you make a sale?”

Samantha couldn’t hide her irritation.

“Mother, where have you been? I’ve been calling you for the last half-hour.”

Olivia attempted to pull herself together. Why does this take so much out of me, she wondered.

“Well, I’ve been here. I didn’t go anywhere. I guess I must have dozed off. It’s so beautiful outside. What can I do for you, Samantha?”

Samantha was quiet. Olivia could hear her short breath over the phone.

“You sound different, Mother. What’s going on?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Samantha. Nothing is wrong. I came outside to read the paper—on the iPad you gave me, I might add—and I fell asleep. Is that a punishable offense?”

Samantha’s chair squeaked so Olivia knew she had gone back home to her loft. Her office chair in the spare bedroom squeaked at the slightest movement. Olivia could visualize her sitting at her desk mulling over what to say next.

“You had another one, didn’t you?”

Olivia forced a laugh.

“What are you talking about, Samantha? I just woke up from a short nap. You said yourself that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep last night.”

Samantha’s irritation grew.

“Mother, you are bullshitting me. Your voice is different, just as it was this morning. What’s going on?”

Olivia tugged on a slip of hair by her ear; a nervous habit she’d continued from childhood. Now was not the time to reveal anything to Samantha. Olivia had to think about this dream. This one was so much more vivid and real. In her mind, she had to decide what to do next.

“You are being silly, Samantha. Listen, I’ve a million things to do today, and one is to go to the store for dinner tonight. How does goat cheese stuffed chicken breasts sound?”

“You piss me off, Mother. We are definitely going to talk tonight. Goodbye.”

“What about the chicken?” Olivia asked, but Samantha had already hung up the phone.

Olivia normally would have been concerned that Samantha was upset. Samantha’s older sister, Cybil, would say, ‘She’s playing you, Mom’. Whether Samantha was playing her or not, the dream had been frightening and Olivia didn’t want to talk about it—at least not now. Wrapping her arms around her shoulders, Olivia thought about what she’d seen in the dream. Why hadn’t she been afraid when Vickie pointed at her body? What Olivia really didn’t understand is why she was chosen to be the witness.

Gathering her cup and iPad, Olivia marched into the kitchen to warm her drink in the microwave. She punched a couple of buttons, and the microwave hummed while she returned to her iPad. After carefully typing in her search, Google maps popped up a display of Swope Park in Kansas City. She had to adjust the map so she could visually pinpoint the entrance to the park. As a young child, Olivia had lived a mile from the park entrance and spent many summer days climbing the observation tower on the north side of the pavilion. The great mall sloped down eastward toward the zoo and on hot summer nights, before air conditioning, the mall filled with people bringing blankets and pillows to sleep. Now, it was just an expanse of grass that catered to Frisbee players on the weekends.

Olivia placed a forefinger on the pavilion and moved it due east until she came to rest on Lake of the Woods campground. If Vickie Taylor were buried somewhere on that hill, her body had to have been transported there by car. Closing her eyes, she visualized standing on the hill, seeing the pavilion in the distance from the camp. It had to be the camp. Suddenly, she realized that the bell on the microwave had rung minutes ago. She retrieved her coffee. It was cold. The thought to reheat again was forgotten as she took the coffee cup to the sofa.

Curling her legs under her, Olivia considered what to do next, or should she do anything? After all, what proof did she have that Vickie Taylor was buried below the campsite? Maybe she should talk to Gretchen who had friends in city government. The very thought of telling someone else, even her best friend, terrified her. For now, she wanted to keep this secret from everyone except Samantha.

Olivia took her cup back to the kitchen. Her eyes fell on a picture taped to the refrigerator. A distraught mother had handed her the picture outside Brookside Market. The woman’s ex-husband had run off with her daughter during his court appointed visit. She wondered if they’d ever found the daughter. At the bottom of the flyer, there was a telephone number for the TIPS hotline. Without thinking, Olivia took the flyer and picked up the telephone. The ring had a hollow tone in her ear as she nervously tapped the kitchen counter with her fingers.

“Hello. TIPS hotline,” the voice answered.

“Yes, I’d like to give some information about the missing girl, Vickie Taylor,” she said. What she was about to say would seem preposterous to the person on the other end of the phone.

“Your name, please.”

“I’d like for this to be anonymous,” she said.

Her heart thumped so hard that Olivia didn’t know whether she could breathe.

“Concerning?” the voice asked.

I just told you, Olivia said to herself.

“The missing girl, Vickie Taylor.”

“Okay, give me your information.”

“There is a camp in Swope Park…Lake of the Woods. I believe if you go to the west side of the camp, you will find Vickie Taylor below on the hillside. You have to find a place on the west edge of the camp between the trees where you see the park pavilion in the distance. The pavilion will line up exactly in the center of the break in the trees. Vickie will be straight down the hillside.”

“Wait one second, ma’am. I need to get all this down. You have to line up in the center…what did you say?”

Olivia was annoyed she had to stay on the phone. She explained again how to find the body.

“Here is your code, ma’am. If your tip is reliable, you may be eligible for the reward.”

“The reward?” she asked.

 “Yes, a reward. You can get online and see whether your code is published, and a reward offered.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t want a reward.”

“If your information leads to finding Vickie Taylor, you are eligible for a twenty-five thousand dollar reward offered by the parents. If you get the reward, you will take this code to the drive-in window of a bank, hand the teller the code, and if valid, the reward money will be given to you. No questions asked.”

Olivia couldn’t talk anymore. She wrote the code on the back of an electric bill, quietly hung up the phone, and leaned against the counter with her face in her hands and began to cry softly.

Chapter 6

After being in real estate for a couple of years, Samantha could tell that her two morning appointments had fizzled. She knew who wanted to buy and who didn’t. The clients didn’t exactly tell her that, but Samantha hadn’t been on top of her game today—or lately. She had other things on her mind and now this thing, whatever it was, with her mother. Sometimes she wished she could be like Cybil, her sensible and smart sister. Cybil’s life was every woman’s dream: married to a successful lawyer, two perfect children to hear Cybil tell it, and an answer for every problem in life. Samantha’s gut told her she needed to stop worrying, go back to the Harold’s Top Hat club and talk with the bartender. Maybe he could give her some information on what happened two weeks ago. She didn’t know the bartender, so she’d decided to enlist her closest friend in the world to help her.  Wally Sikes distributed wines for local wineries to bars and restaurants, so Wally knew many bartenders in town. Wally had been her neighbor growing up, and he had a thing for her. She loved Wally, but she didn’t want things to go too far. Sometimes she thought she loved Wally more than a friend, but immediately threw that thought to the curb.

“Yeah, yeah. The lunch hour is from eleven until two. I’ll be by in five minutes.”

Samantha hung up the phone and looked critically at her reflection in the mirror by the front door as she fought back the tears. A fingertip gently followed the outline of her eye to ensure her makeup didn’t smear. A quick sniffle, a simple adjustment of a misplaced lock of hair, and she walked to the door. Hesitating, she turned back to the mirror.

“You really did it this time, Samantha. You are one dumb fucking bitch!”

Having delivered that ruling she went outside to wait for Wally.

Samantha smiled inwardly as Wally’s bright red Jeep Wrangler pulled around the corner and sped down the street toward her. Wally hadn’t changed since they were kids. Sweet, unpretentious Wally would do almost anything for her. Her mother said he was a like puppy dog that Samantha took advantage of, but Samantha didn’t see it that way. In many respects, Wally had always been the rock that was there when she needed him. The Jeep came to a screeching stop, the tires hugging the curb.

“Hop in,” he said, leaning across the seat to open the door.

Samantha climbed in, reached over and gave Wally a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, handsome. Do you want to buy a good looking girl lunch?” she asked closing the door.

There was only one word that could describe Wally Sikes accurately: big. A large body on a large frame, Wally had played football at the University of Missouri until he tore his Achilles tendon. After that, his mom said no more and made him quit. Thinning premature gray hair made Wally seem older than his thirty-four years. Even his beard was gray and, like Olivia, he refused to color it.  Olivia called him the gentle giant because he had an even disposition, no matter what happened around him.

Wally slid the gearshift into first and popped the clutch, throwing Samantha back against the seat before she had her seatbelt on.

“Where to?” he asked

“Harold’s Top Hat,” she said.

“Sure, why not?” he asked looking to his left before he switched lanes. “Why the interest in lunch at the Top Hat? Most people skip lunch and go there after work. Food’s lousy and they water down their drinks except the wine.”

“I don’t know. Just looking for a change I guess.”

“Top Hat is a meat market, and you know it. People go there to meet up, not to eat fine cuisine or drink a fine wine.”

“I am looking for someone special, so I thought you would know the bartender…”

“And I could help you get the information?”

She squirmed uneasily in her seat.

“Yes—something like that.”

Wally watched the road ahead with his large frame hunkered over the steering wheel.

“Okay. Who are we looking for?”

Samantha hesitated.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

Wally’s head whipped around to look at her.

“How am I going to be able to help you if you don’t even know the guy we’re looking for?”

“Good question, Wally. You need to trust me on this one. I’ll let you know in time.”

Wally bit at his lower lip.

“Did this guy hurt you Sam?”

Again, the quiet before she answered.

“In a way, yes. He hurt me badly, but not in the way you think.”

“Is this someone you dated and didn’t tell me about?” he asked.

Samantha thought for a second. She’d never kept anything from Wally. He knew everything about her since they were kids. When it came to Wally, she had no secrets.

“Ain’t happened, won’t happen. My life has been an open book with you. You should’ve been a priest.”

Samantha playfully pulled on his ear. Wally got a big grin on his face and Samantha knew the distraction worked.

“We haven’t talked for over a week. Have you found a girl yet?”

“No, but I’ve had a lot of fun dancing. Found a new place out south.”

Wally made a sharp right turn and pulled into a city parking lot next to the city market.

“Why are you parking here?” she asked uneasily.

“Top Hat is behind us, but I like to park here during the week,” he explained hopping out of the Jeep.

Wally ran around the car as Samantha opened the door and stepped down. He held the door as she brushed the wrinkles from her skirt.

“Thank you, Wallikins,” she said kissing him on the cheek again.

“Yeah, yeah, hot lips. Let’s eat. I’m hungry.”