Looking For An Honest Man Chapters 17 & 18

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Chapter 17

They ate a light breakfast of juice, toast, fruit and cheese. Gretchen didn’t bring up Fish in the Sea or her new catch. Olivia cleaned up the dishes when Gretchen turned on the television in the living room. Olivia didn’t pay much attention to it because she was enjoying the peace and quiet from Gretchen’s constant jabbering. She loved her friend dearly, but always felt worn out by the time Gretchen left. Lost in her own thoughts Olivia wondered whether she would have any more dreams now that Vickie’s body had been found. The dreams had been tiring, but not frightening. The big question in her mind was why Vickie had chosen her.

“You had another goddamn dream.”

The words were so sharp Olivia almost dropped a cup in the sink. The television wasn’t on, and Gretchen stood behind her with a stern look on her face. Olivia couldn’t tell whether Gretchen was upset or mad. Her normally translucent cheeks were a bright red that reminded Olivia of a clown’s face. Gretchen moved closer until her body pushed against Olivia. Gretchen’s body trembled against Olivia. 

“You told the police where to find that body!”

Olivia wiped her hands on a towel and leaned against the counter.

“I had to. Yes, I had another dream and I felt it my duty to tell the police,” Olivia said defiantly.

Gretchen got in Olivia’s face.

“Did you give your name?”

“No, it was an anonymous tip to the hotline. Now that they have found the body, the dreams will most likely stop.”

“This could be very dangerous Olivia.”

“Why?”

“If this is the work of a serial killer or madman, they’ll come looking for you dammit! I hope you don’t have anymore dreams.”

Spittle splattered Olivia’s cheek, and as she wiped it off, her friend and sat down at the table.

“I’m sure they’re over,” Olivia said.

“They’d better be,” Gretchen muttered. “You need to join Fish in the Sea and have fun instead of dreaming stupid dreams.”

Gretchen finally left, and Olivia found herself with the iPad in her lap surfing the web. This time she asked for reviews of Fish in the Sea, and was surprised at the number of irate reviews from former members who felt the site was preying on older women. Most believed that the younger men were taking advantage of them financially. Very few had anything good to say about the site. One article talked about how lonely older women flocked to Fish in the Sea, ignoring the site’s reputation, in the hopes of finding a meaningful relationship. Olivia emailed Gretchen with the various articles, but deep down inside she didn’t think it would make any difference. She returned to the kitchen, turned off the Keurig and decided she’d take a shower.

Olivia felt defenseless in the morning facing her reflection in the mirror, especially when she was naked. It took longer for her face to recover from the nightly battle with the pillow. Even though she’d slept in the chair, her hair was matted and the bags under her eyes took on a purple hue under the florescent light. She pulled at her shoulder length hair and wondered for the trillionth time whether she should cut it. She loved to wear it in a ponytail, but it was harder to take care of, especially with the constant battle with gray roots. Gretchen told her that older women look better in shorter hair, but Samantha disagreed. The mirror reminded her that age shows no mercy and takes no prisoners whether your hair was long or short. Retreating to the shower, Olivia swore to turn the light off when she brushed her hair.

Olivia dressed and decided on another cup of coffee. She curled up on the sofa with her iPad to search for any news on Vickie Taylor. It made the front page. The story went into more depth than the television news. Vickie worked for a small investment firm in Kansas City as manager. She’d work there for about three months, but the Star was unable to get a comment from the company. According to her husband, a Richard James of Hogue Investments hired Vickie three months ago. She had worked for A. G. Edwards the previous three years.

As Olivia read on, she wondered if one of Vickie’s clients had killed her over some investments that went south. The husband, Rick Taylor, commented that Vickie had been upset lately, but he couldn’t get her to talk about it. They weren’t having any serious marital problems as many people claimed. The parents thought differently. They believed that the strain their daughter was exhibiting over the past few weeks indicated that there were problems in the marriage. The difference in ages between Vickie and Rick had always been a concern to them. The rest focused on the strange tip that the police received on where to locate the body. The body was in a very remote part of the park. Lake of the Woods Camp hadn’t opened yet, and someone had cut the chain blocking the road entrance to the camp. Police would like to talk to the individual who called in the tip to see whether they saw anyone at the camp.  The reporter asked how this individual knew where to find the body, and could this person be the killer. The lead detective, Ed Hines, had no comment, which sent chills down Olivia’s back.

Did they believe that she was the killer? The thought that the police might suspect her of killing Vickie frightened her. She closed the story and returned to the front page. A small box inserted at the bottom of the Vickie Taylor story had a picture of a woman named Pat Wilson. She was in her fifties, had been missing for two months and the police believed there may be a connection between the Vickie Taylor murder and the disappearance of Pat Wilson. A single professional woman, she’d never been married. Her friends said that she’d been dating a much younger man from a popular web site. When police attempted to find this man, they came up with nothing.

Olivia wondered whether the article was talking about Fish in the Sea. She laid her iPad down and reached for her coffee. The liquid was cold and bitter. Walking back to the kitchen, Olivia wondered why women choose web sites like Fish in the Sea over going out and meeting people. She knew the answer. They could hide behind their monitors. They felt safe. As you age, you feel more vulnerable to the world around you. The confidence you had when you were young is moderated by the experiences of life. Olivia imagined that most women were drifters on sites such as Fish in the Sea. They looked at different profiles, but took no action.

Olivia placed her coffee in the microwave. She pushed the button, the light came on and the glass plate began to rotate. As she watched the coffee cup go round and round, the thought came to her that in many ways, she was like those women who joined Fish in the Sea. They are lonely women who wanted to catch a moment in time that they’d lost.

Chapter 18

Wally had left for his appointment, leaving Samantha to take a shower and get dressed. She kept a few clothes in Wally’s closet for the times like this that she stayed over. It didn’t happen often, but last night she’d felt fragile, which was not her normal persona. As usual, Wally was there to catch her. Wally had always been there for her during the good and bad times. He had been her rock during the bad times in the middle twenties when drugs became more than recreational. She felt so free around Wally. There was no pressure to be anything else but Samantha. Their agreement had held since high school: just very close friends.  Her mother said she took advantage of the situation, but her mother just didn’t understand the special relationship she had with Wally. Samantha wondered if she understood it any more.

Samantha dressed and sat at the table so she could look out the window while brushing her hair. Wally had found Mrs. Mitchell’s phone number before he left for his appointment. Now, she had to come up with a reason to talk to her. She didn’t understand why she wanted to meet with Mrs. Mitchell. Samantha had this gnawing need inside of her that said she had to know more about Brent Mitchell because that might help her remember what happened that night. It didn’t make sense to Wally, but she had to do it. She racked her brain to come up with some excuse to talk to Mrs. Mitchell. Finally, she decided to just tell the truth.

Samantha became discouraged after the phone rang four or five times. Samantha didn’t want to leave a message because that would really sound stupid. Just as she started to hang up, Mrs. Mitchell answered the phone.

“Hello.”                                                                                           

It was a soft and subdued voice. Samantha’s heart pounded so hard she could feel it trying to bust open her chest.

“Mrs. Mitchell, my name is Samantha Kimsey. I know this sounds crazy, but I may have been one of the last people to see your husband.”

Mrs. Mitchell became frantic.

“Do you know where my husband is? Is he all right?”

 “No, Mrs. Mitchell. I don’t know where your husband is. I’m sorry, but I don’t. I wish I did.”

There was an emotional meltdown on the other end of the phone.

“What do you want? Why are you calling?”

Samantha took a deep breath, determined to speak slowly and succinctly.

“My name is Samantha Kimsey. I may have been the last person to talk to your husband. I thought if I could meet with you, something might come back to me that he said that would help find him. It’s a long shot I know, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Samantha wished she’d done what Wally had said and dropped the whole thing. She didn’t really understand why she wanted to see Mrs. Mitchell except that somewhere in the back of her head a voice kept telling her this is what she should do. Maybe she was becoming psychic like her mother. After a long pause, Mrs. Mitchell replied cautiously.

“Who did you say that you are?”

Samantha repeated her name and explained again what she wanted to do.

“We don’t have to meet at your home. We can meet at a coffee shop or restaurant if you want.”

“You caught me on my day off from work. I could meet you in about an hour.”

They decided to meet at a Starbucks in Prairie Village.

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Wally said as he drove them south on the Trafficway.

Samantha’s head gently rocked against the window as they sped toward the Plaza. She stared straight ahead as if concentrating on the car in front of her. Ever since she’d made the call to Mrs. Mitchell, she wondered to herself whether she were doing the right thing. Maybe it was the guilt she felt for blaming a man who probably didn’t have anything to do with raping her. Her mother could probably sort this out one way or the other, but Samantha was afraid to ask her for help.

 “I don’t know, Wally, and quit asking me the same damn question.”

Wally hesitated before he replied.

“Do you want me to go in with you?”

A quick nod told him that he’d stay in the car.

They were quiet the rest of the way. Prairie Village was located in Kansas. Five minutes after crossing the state line, Wally pulled into the parking lot of Starbucks.

Although they’d never met, Samantha immediately recognized Mrs. Mitchell sitting hunched over a table with a small teapot in front of her. Her hollow eyes never left the front door. A cute woman with short blonde hair, a pixie nose, and thin lips that were ghastly pale gave Samantha a weak smile when she entered. Samantha waved and walked to the counter and asked for café mocha. Two minutes later, she sat down across from Mrs. Mitchell. A middle-aged woman sat on the opposite side of the room nursing some kind of flavored drink and reading a paperback book. She wore glasses, and her dishwater blonde hair was in a French roll. A light jacket was draped over the chair back. Samantha noticed that the woman wore a stylish white blouse and fashionable slacks. A businesswoman, Samantha thought, taking a morning break for coffee. The woman didn’t look up as Samantha picked up her coffee. Otherwise, they were the only customers.