The sky had started to clear again and the moon, now bone white and granular, drifted over the iron water like a discarded shell. Few people were out driving yet, probably too drunk by now to even attempt it. A couple of semi trucks she’d recognized from the 101 parking lot passed her, going fast to make up for lost time.
The road flares were all burned out and the powder they’d left behind had been washed away by the rain. Ann missed the spot the first time and had to go several miles ahead before finding a safe place to turn around. That’s when she’d seen the strange man walking down the highway, dressed in a long overcoat and black combat boots. Something had compelled her to stop-the crazy notion that maybe he’d seen something that could help her. When she’d gotten out of her car to talk to him she’d held firmly to the.38 in her jacket pocket, a birthday gift from her grandfather.
Living on the coast, Ann had encountered hundreds drifter types making their journeys up and down the highway. Many didn’t stay put for long out of fear. Some claimed to be in search of a truth or a place to call home while others told her they were motivated by sheer wanderlust. Ann wondered how many found what they were looking for, if the ones who had been at it for years would ever be able to live a normal existence. The man she’d seen tonight fell into the late stage category-too crazy and too filthy to ever have any success at hitch hiking although it didn’t stop them from trying. What made this one stand out in Ann’s mind was his purposeful stride and erect head. He reminded her of an old story, a tale about a king in disguise, wandering to the ends of his kingdom to find an important truth. When he’d turned to her it was as if the single eye shining between the curtains of his collarbone-length hair was as large and knowing as an elk’s. Ann knew then she should have been scared-that even having a gun was no guarantee she’d be able to stop an attack. But the man had kept moving, seemingly uninterested in her or the prospect of getting a ride.
She walked down to place where she’d imagined the crash site to be and stayed on the side opposite of where the elk lay. With her flashlight she followed the sloping hill of undergrowth that led down to a row of trees standing on the edge of the cliff as if they were night divers waiting their turn. That’s when she saw the glimmer of a taillight in the thick salal, felt her chest sting while she held on to a small pine to catch her breath. After she got off the road she came upon a set of tire tracks, obvious scars of orange clay. She ran down with them until she reached the trees lined along the top of the cornice.
When she pulled away the undergrowth the trunk of the patrol car began to appear, a smooth polished hump of black. Sticky vines clung to her legs as she worked her way around to the front. If the trees hadn’t been here to stop it, the car would have easily gone into the sea. The right door was wedged open, its hinge twisted in the opposite direction by a violent force. But the inside of the car was empty. Ann noticed the coffee cup Mitch had bought from her earlier lying on the floor, the banana slugs moving across the windshield.
You’re too late.
She sat down next to the car and cried, imagining what Tammy must have gone through, wondering if she was even still alive. She had no doubts that what she’d seen in Tammy’s house was real-the signs of a struggle, the blood on the sink. She was jolted by a disturbing idea. Could the attacker have been Mitch? The pieces fell together so readily-the bruises on his face, his bandaged hand. The story about falling on the jetty could have been made up for all she knew. But would Mitch hurt Tammy? The more she thought about it the more she tried to push the idea away. It was too easy. A question worth asking, but impossible to fathom. She’d known them both for too long. And why would he have suggested that she visit Tammy at the 101 if he’d had something to hide? Tammy wasn’t the kind of person to keep her mouth shut. If she’d had problems with Mitch the whole town would have known about it.
There wasn’t anything else to do but to head back to Traitor Bay and hope someone had shown. She climbed back up to the highway and turned around to see if she could still see the patrol car but even the blinking taillight was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. A fog was creeping up from the cliff and pooling in the hollow depressions left by landslides.
She didn’t pass the man again, wondered if he’d set up camp back in the woods or if he’d broken into one of the darkened cabins that remained vacant most of the winter. An escape from the rain and cold. Steaks in the freezer, electric heat and a comfortable bed. Dressers and closets with clothes that might fit. Cable tv. Yet for some reason he didn’t seem like the type to take risks unless they were absolutely essential. He traveled light and after dark and, she imagined, no matter how crazy his thoughts would make him he knew that he had to keep his head below the radar.
Chapter 15
The cats greeted Ann at the door, excited to see her back home. She immediately opened a can of cat food and gave them each a spoonful, listened to them purr. Careful not to wake her aunt, Ann crept up to her bedroom door and pulled it shut. The cats would want to return to their places on her aunt’s bed as soon as they were finished licking their bowls, so she knew she didn’t have much time.
She stripped off her wet clothes and climbed into the shower. The hot water soon quieted her shivering and the steam seemed to clear her head. As she worked the soapy washcloth over dried mud, the bruises and scratches hidden beneath began to sing with pain. She closed her eyes and let the water massage the back of her neck until she felt the cords of muscle begin to unwind and the headache they’d caused to gradually recede. Ann wondered if she should wake her aunt and let her know what was happening. She’d always been good at keeping her from having to worry, especially after her mother was gone and it was just the two of them. But the fact was it would take up too much valuable time-time that Tammy might not have. And what good would it do? She didn’t know what was happening other than the fact that people were disappearing. It was best to wait, she thought. Let Kate enjoy her rest for now. No sense in waking her up and putting her through this. If I’m not back by mid-morning I’ll call her. She’ll see the empty cat can in the kitchen sink and think that I’ve left early to check out the minus tide. She won’t know that I was only home long enough to shower and change.
The towel irritated the scratches more and caused some to bleed again. When she was finished drying, she took a moment to dab them with antibiotic ointment. She tied her hair back and brushed her teeth before tiptoeing naked back to her bedroom. The cats followed her inside and watched as she got dressed. They were no longer purring but looked concerned that she was preparing to leave. Winter, the oldest of the pride, jumped on the bed and forced Ann to look her in the eyes. Ann briefly hugged her and whispered that she’d be back. Her clock said it was 2:30 in the morning. The gutter outside her bedroom was overflowing, hissing like a slit windpipe.
She found her cell phone on her dresser and slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans, gathered up a pair of dry socks and boots and carried them with her through the house. Her aunt was still sleeping when she looked in on her and listened to her steady breathing. Must have finally taken a sleeping pill, Ann thought. The cats brushed past her legs in a rush to claim the best place on the bed. Aunt Kate did not stir, not even when Winter tapped her on the shoulder with her paw in an attempt to wake her and let her know what was going on. Ann motioned to the cat to be quiet, but she only stared back at her defiantly. You always have to be the boss, don’t you, she thought. And I’ll probably get a dead mouse left in my bed for this, won’t I?