Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Chapters 39 & 40

WANT TO RED THE ENTIRE BOOK?
iT IS ONLY 1.99 ON AMAXON.COM 
OR fREE FOR AMAZON PRIME MEMBERS.



Share with your friends.


Chapter 39

Wally felt silly joining a dating website for older women and younger men. He thought that Fish in the Sea was a stupid name. At first, he thought about using a fake name, but Fish in the Sea asked for his social security number. Wally finished his membership and bought only a month, which was a whopping fifty bucks. This was a very expensive site compared to other sites he’d been on and was constructed very poorly. It had few bells and whistles, and Wally wondered if that was because it focused on older women.
The next five hours he looked for Patricia Wilson or Constance Daniels when another familiar name popped up: Gladys Boardman.  He scanned her profile and then printed it out.  He continued the process and when Comedy Central’s Daily Show came on at ten o’clock, he got another hit: Becky Whitney. He printed her profile and as Stephen Colbert was telling everyone good night, he found Patricia Wilson’s profile.  Immediately after that, he found Constance Daniels. It had been tedious, boring and time-consuming, but he’d found what he wanted. Now, they could compare facts. Since all these women were registered with Fish in the Sea except for Vickie Taylor, he had to assume that they were dating younger men. All the women had identical profiles except for Constance Daniels. Constance was the only one out of the four women who had been married at one time. From news accounts, it appeared that all of the women were in some type of therapy. He found it strange that the police never mentioned that fact in any public reports about the disappearances, except in the case of Becky Whitney. She was the first to turn up missing. Were the police hiding the fact? The therapy angle came from friends of the missing women. Vickie Taylor’s parents informed the news media that Vickie was in therapy.  For some reason, they blamed the husband, Rick Taylor, but the police confirmed that he had a solid alibi.
Wally rubbed his eyes. They burned from staring at a computer screen for so long. Mrs. K had been right about joining Fish in the Sea. He wasn’t surprised that the records of the missing women were still online. He’d joined a site once and five years later, his record was still active for others to see.
The clock in the kitchen pointed to eleven forty-five. Tired, but not sleepy, the adrenaline rush would keep Wally awake for another hour. His next step was to find out as much as he could about Vickie Taylor’s husband. He was the unknown factor in this entire mess. The in-laws didn’t like him, but what’s new about that in a lot of families? He was a retired police officer who now was an officer in a security firm. It would be logical for Vickie to talk to him. But she didn’t.
For the next fifteen minutes, Wally searched the web for information on Rick Taylor and printed it out. He was about to call it quits when Rick Taylor’s name appeared in a veteran’s newsletter. Could this be the same Rick Taylor? Wally thought. The short article focused on a local MP company that was sent to Afghanistan. He clicked on the link and Wally recognized Rick Taylor from earlier newspaper photos.  There wasn’t anything specific about Rick Taylor. He was about close it out when he noticed under related stories: Rick Taylor finally comes home. He had a new prosthetic on his left leg, and he walked with a cane. He’d spent the last three months in Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington D.C. recuperating from an explosion while overseas. Although the article didn’t specifically mention it, it appeared that Rick suffered some mental problems from the war.
He was about ready to call it a night when his phone rang.
It was Samantha.
“Wally?”
“Yeah?”
Her soft voice made him forget they were upset with each other.
“You mad at me?”
“No,” he answered. “Not really.”
“Can I come over?”
“Now?”
“I’d like to see you,” she whispered. “You’re my best friend. I thought about how stupid this whole thing is. It’s really over nothing. Don’t you agree?”
“You’re my best friend, too,” he said. “You sure you want to come over?”
Her voice was so low that he could hardly hear her.
“Yes. I can’t sleep. Were you in bed?”
“No. Your mother got the idea that I should join Fish in the Sea. I’ve made some important discoveries.”
Samantha’s voice perked up.
“Did you find Patricia Wilson?”
“I not only found Patricia, but everyone else.”
“Vickie Taylor?” she asked.
“No, Vickie was not on the site. She is the only one that appears to have had some kind of normalcy in her life.”
“That’s strange,” Samantha said.
“What?”
“If she had such a good relationship with her husband, why didn’t she tell him what was going on? Why didn’t she confide in him?”
“I think Rick suffered some problems from Afghanistan.  He came back with a prosthetic on his left leg, and I’m guessing some mental problems. She probably couldn’t confide in him.”
“Oh,” Samantha said.
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t think of a way to talk to the husband. Carol thought they were very happily married.” The mention of Carol brought silence to the phone line. “Sam?”
“I’m here. Let’s not mention names right now, okay? I won’t mention a name, and you won’t mention a name. Is that fair?”
“That’s fair,” he replied, silently breathing a sigh of relief.
“Wally, may I come over?”
This time Samantha’s voice was almost a plea. Wally desperately wanted Samantha to come over tonight. He didn’t care if she couldn’t love him. He had a basic need to be with her. The attempts he’d made since high school to put Samantha out of his life had met with miserable failure. They were like two magnets drawn to each other. He didn’t know whether that was good or bad. He did know that life without Samantha would be unbearable. Some people can live their life alone. They don’t need the comfort of other people. Wally couldn’t do that. He needed that touch, the caress and nearness of the other person. He needed Samantha.
“Yeah, come on over.”
“Push the buzzer and let me in,” she said. “I’m outside at the front door.”
Wally laughed to himself as he rushed over and pushed the buzzer. He opened the front door a crack and waited. The elevator whirred as it slowly descended to the first floor. It was quiet before the whirring started again until it stopped on his floor. He heard the sound of feet exiting the elevator and walking quickly on the carpeted floor. He opened the door wide as Samantha approached his door. She didn’t stop. With her arms wide open, she catapulted into his open arms. Wally held her tightly. She finally opened her eyes and kissed his chin.
“I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me,” Samantha said.
“Me too,” he said. “Let’s go inside.”
“Don’t let go of me,” she pleaded.
She giggled as they walked locked-step to the sofa. Wally’s bulky frame plopped down on the soft cushion causing Samantha to bounce. Samantha did something she’d never done before. One hand gently caressed Wally’s cheek as her lips found his. The kiss was hurried and clumsy. Wally was so surprised by the action that he pulled back for a second.
“Don’t,” she murmured and climbed higher on his frame.
Wally pulled her tighter, mashing his lips on hers and the years of frustration poured out of him. Samantha writhed like a wild animal, clawing at him and climbing higher on his body.
“Bed,” she gasped.
Wally swooped her up in his arms and carried her effortlessly across the room to the bed. He gently laid her down as Samantha nuzzled his neck, kissed him and giggled like a teenager. There was playfulness in her eyes as she pushed away from him with her feet. She bounced to the head of the bed until her back rested against the headboard. Wally tossed his shirt to the floor and started to unbuckle his pants when the look of joy on her face turned to pain. Samantha’s hand slowly withdrew from under the pillow and held Carol’s thong high over her head.
“No, Wally. No, no, no, no!”
“Wait, Sam!” he pleaded.
Samantha clamored out of the bed and threw the thong on the floor with disgust. As Wally attempted to approach her, she held up her hand and slowly backed away
“Why, Wally? Why?”
“How was I to know, Sam? Sometimes things just happen. I’m human, just like you are.”
“No. It’s not supposed to be this way.”
 Samantha turned on her heel and ran for the door. Wally started to follow but she stopped and faced him, tears spilling from her eyes. The hurt on her face said it all. His dream had come true only to be shattered. Wally stood helplessly as Samantha turned and left. The front door closed with a loud bang.

Chapter 40

Olivia heard Samantha slip in late and tiptoe to the extra bedroom. She wondered what was going on because this was the second time that Samantha had sought refuge in her condo. Muted sobs echoed down the hall to tear at Olivia’s heart. Something had happened, but Olivia knew from past experience that Samantha would resist any attempts to comfort her. She lay awake all night listening and aching for her daughter. Thankfully, the alarm clock finally rang.  She put on her robe and walked to the spare bedroom to peer through the partially opened door. Olivia found Samantha asleep spread-eagle across the bed and still in her clothes. She gazed at her daughter for a second and then tiptoed back down the hall and into the kitchen.
 It was hard to believe it was Thursday. So much had happened this week that the days had melded together, leaving her exhausted. Olivia brewed coffee, picked up an afghan and walked out on the balcony. She set her coffee down, curled into a chair and wrapped the afghan around her shoulders. Her eyes felt heavy and before she could pick up the cup, she’d fallen asleep.
Vickie appeared as a hazy, wavy picture. Olivia didn’t recognize her at first. When Vickie finally came into focus, she waved at Olivia as though they were old friends. Olivia thought to herself how stupid it was for Vickie to wave at her.  This time they didn’t go flying through the air. They were walking. Vickie smiled and pointed at an eagle flying overhead and muskrats swimming in a pretty lake. The west and south side of the lake had townhouses that looked vaguely familiar to Olivia as she took in her surroundings. They stood on a dam and below them a creek wound around, tall trees lining its bank. Olivia continued to walk and saw a familiar shed come in view. The wind gently pushed the tops of some bushes, and she quickly eyed the dumpster. They were at South Lake!
Vickie tugged on her arm. The light brown eyes were hypnotic against her tan skin. They continued to walk along the dam until they reached a concrete spillway where tall and invading sycamore trees below the spillway stretched high above their heads. Vickie’s fingers wrapped around Olivia’s arm and squeezed. She pointed down through the rough rippled water to Cora Brandon’s golf cart lying on its side beneath the water.  Cora’s crumpled body had been thrown out of the front seat. One arm was entangled in the steering wheel as her head gently pushed against the canvas top. Cora’s opened eyes stared helplessly at the sky. Olivia stared for a moment, wondering what had happened and where was the mastiff that rode beside her? Olivia reached down to see whether she could touch the water, but Vickie restrained her.
“What happened?” Olivia asked.
Vickie shrugged her shoulders.
“The dog. What about the dog?”
Vickie pointed to a small island that sat in the middle of the lake. The mastiff pawed at the water and low, guttural whines touched Olivia’s ears as the dog moaned for its owner. The dark terrorizing shadow from yesterday morning had become a trembling frightened animal that didn’t know what to do. Olivia reached out, as if she could stroke the mastiff to ease its pain, and the scene before her began to melt away resembling heavy rain on a window.
All was black.
Olivia woke. Her body trembled and her heart beat so fast that her chest hurt. She took a deep breath and held it until her lungs felt as if they would explode. Slowly she exhaled through her nose, sat up and threw the afghan aside. The coffee was cold and tasted bitter. It was later than she thought judging by the constant hum of traffic from the morning commute. At the moment, it took all of her effort to keep from crying. Guilt swept over her as she realized she was more concerned about the mastiff than Cora Brandon. Next came that familiar feeling of indecision about what to do. This would be the third time she’d called the hotline this week. Did she call the police again or wait? Then, she remembered that Margaret asked her to call her the next time she had a dream. She got up and strode back inside, wondering why Vickie had taken her to see Cora. What did Cora have to do with all this? Olivia found Margaret’s card in the crumpled jeans that lay on the floor of her bedroom. She dialed the number and was taken to voice mail.
“Margaret, it’s Olivia. I’ve had another dream. I think there has been an accident at South Lake. Cora Brandon’s golf cart is in the lake, and she drowned. Give me a call when you can.”
Without thinking, Olivia dialed the Tips Hotline. A woman’s voice came on the line.
“Tips Hotline. How may I help you?”
“I—I want to report a drowning.”
“Where did this take place, ma’am?”
The conversation unfolded like the last two times. The minute she hung up, the phone rang.
“Olivia, this is Margaret. I was in the shower when you called. What happened?”
“I had a dream again, Margaret. Vickie came to me in a dream. I don’t understand it, but she took me back out to South Lake.”
Margaret’s voice was calm, almost motherly sounding.
“South Lake? You mean where they found Patricia Wilson’s body?”
“Yes, but this time she showed me that woman in the golf cart.”
“What woman are you talking about, Olivia?”
Olivia had to catch her breath. Everything was accelerating out of control. It felt good to hear Margaret’s soothing voice.
“That woman in the golf cart—Cora Brandon. I saw her in the lake.”
 “How do you know it was Cora?” Margaret asked.
Olivia was now impatient.
“Because I saw her.”
“You saw her?” Margaret asked suspiciously.
“In my dream, Margaret. Vickie came in a dream, took me to the lake and pointed at Cora Brandon in the water.”
“Did you say Vickie took you?”
Olivia was now becoming irritated.
“Yes, dammit! In a dream. In a dream.”
Margaret’s reply was clipped and curt.
“Take it easy, Olivia. I’ll call downtown and let them know.”
“I already called the hotline when I couldn’t get you.”
There was silence on the other end. Olivia thought it was an eternity before Margaret came back on the line.
“l thought we had an agreement,” she said softly.
“We did—we do. I had to tell someone about it, Margaret. I guess it has now become a habit to call the hotline.”
“Don’t do that again,” Margaret admonished. “Do you think the police will have an understanding of what you’re saying? They’ll think the only way you would know is if you were involved. It is going to be hard enough for me to explain as it is. This is the third time you’ve called the hotline with accurate information. You are hurting yourself, Olivia. Call me next time.”
“I—I’m so sorry, Margaret. I promise to call you next time.”

No comments:

Post a Comment