“Well, anyway, should I tell him about being followed? He already thinks I'm insane. Maybe I should call someone else, the county sheriff or the FBI or something.”
She snorted. “Louisa! The FBI? By the time they figure out where Willow Falls is, Bob could be back again.” Silence. I knew she was rubbing the bridge of her nose as she thought. “Listen, don’t call anyone else tonight. In movies a person always has to be missing for twenty four hours before they’ll start looking for them.”
“You think?” I asked, wanting to believe her. “But what if I delay and something happens to him?”
“Something’s already happened to him,” she pointed out. “But you have no idea if he went with that woman voluntarily. I know you think he didn’t, but we can't be sure.”
“Not being sure is making me nuts. If I knew for certain that he’d ditched me I could just get really mad, or if he was kidnapped I could make someone look for him. As it is I can't do anything.” I sighed and shifted restlessly on the bed, then saw that I was still holding Bob’s keys. “Listen, I just remembered, I left Bob’s car in the driveway and I want to move it into the garage.”
“All right, sweetie, you move the car in and get some sleep. Will you be okay by yourself? Do you want me to come over?”
“I'll be okay,” I assured her. “After all, Emily Ann and Jack are here.”
“No problem then.” I could hear a grin in her voice. “No harm can come to you with those two in the house. I'll be in the store early tomorrow if you need me. Ambrose is having a piece picked up practically at dawn.”
“Did you need me to work tomorrow?”
“No, that’s okay. But if Bob’s not back by tomorrow afternoon we will have to decide who to report his disappearance to. Call me immediately if you hear from him. When you hear from him.”
I hung up the phone and slumped on the edge of the bed. I knew if I let myself lie down, even for a second, I’d never get up again that night. Still, I was about to fall back onto the covers when I realized both dogs had sneaked up behind me and were curled on the bed flank to flank. I didn’t have the heart to disturb them. I forced myself to my feet and out to the garage. My car was far enough to the side to be able to park the other, so I pressed the doorbell-like button that opens the garage door.
The door started up and the overhead light came on. Too late, I realized I was spotlighted for anyone who might be outside. I felt I was in one of those dreams where you’re on stage and don’t know what the play is, let alone what your lines might be. What if someone had followed me home, and here I was armed only with bunch of keys? I didn’t even have the dogs to protect me, assuming that their friendly overtures to everyone they met would be any protection.
But when the door was up, no one was in sight. I quickly moved the Honda inside beside its twin, pressed the button again, and went back into the house. The damp night air, not to mention the fear I'd felt when I stepped out into it, had revived me. I was wide awake again. I sat at the kitchen table to finish my glass of wine, hoping it would lull me enough to bring sleep.
The only sounds were the ticking of the Seth Thomas clock on the mantel and its chime on the quarter hour, and the low hum of the refrigerator. I rolled the stem of the wine glass around in my fingers as I thought of this evening. It struck me that Bob was a watchful person, always looking around him when he was out in public.
I heard a thump from the bedroom. Nails clicked on the hardwood floor of the hall. Jack appeared in front of me.
“Jack,” I said to him, “I'm confused. Bob’s the first guy I've gone out with since my husband died, and I was married for a long time, but I don’t recall having the person you’re with being swept away by a woman in red as part of the conventional dating ritual. Of course, everyone says things have changed since the last time I did any of this, but still, this seems somewhat out of the norm.”
Jack yawned.
“And of course it had to be a blonde. My recent experience with blondes has not been good. I know of one in Seattle…no, you’re too young for that story.”
Jack gave himself a mighty shake, so that his ears made a leathery flapping sound and his lips flew up to expose his shining teeth. He turned and started toward the bedroom, looking over his shoulder at me.
“You’re right,” I said. “Let’s call it a day.”
I leaned over to untie my shoes. They were soaked through and the pattern of silver moons and stars barely showed through the smears of mud. I put them in the trash and went to bed.
Chapter Seven
I expected to stare into the dark for most of the night; that single glass of wine was not enough to have a soporific effect. But Jack’s presence helped; he’s a snuggly dog. He pressed his long back against my side, and his warmth spread into me. Emily Ann lay crossways near the top of the bed with her chin three inches from my shoulder. I was asleep in two minutes.
The red numbers on the digital clock glowed 5:37 when my eyes unglued the next morning. I tried to pull the quilt a little higher on my shoulder but it wouldn’t budge. Jack was still snoring beside me, and for a moment I had no idea what he was doing in my bed. Then I remembered Bob getting into a Mercedes with an unknown blonde and driving away; Chief Johnson who thought I was insane; ominous phone messages and hiding in a stranger’s driveway to elude a following car—if Jack had not been at my side I would have been sure it was all a dream.
I untangled myself from the heap that the two dogs and I had become, sat up and yawned. Jack jumped off the foot of the bed and did his stretches, and wagged his way to me. “You want to go out?” I asked him. The rate of wagging increased. “How about you?” I asked Emily Ann, who was still curled on her side in the middle of the bed. She gave me an affronted glance and turned over. “Hang on a minute,” I told Jack. A trip to the bathroom and a quick swipe over my teeth with a wet but paste-less toothbrush sufficed.
Jack danced me down the hall and just before we reached the kitchen I heard Emily Ann thumping down from the bed. I let them out the back door and headed for the fridge.
Orange juice was the first item on the agenda. Real orange juice is a food group unto itself. When they talk about the nectar and ambrosia of the gods, this has to be the nectar. Most mornings I cut Valencias or navels and use a juicer to squeeze a big glass. Today I couldn’t be bothered. I poured from the pitcher of the frozen stuff I keep mixed up for doses during the day.
I heard the dogs jostling each other at the back door and let them in, glancing at the still dark sky. The rain clouds had cleared, though in October the weather can jump from sun to rain in no time. I carried my glass of juice back to the bedroom, where I pulled on jeans and a blue sweatshirt.
“Jack,” I said, “I don’t know where to even start looking for Bob. You don’t have any ideas, do you?” His wagging tail indicated that he had lots of ideas but none on this subject. “Geez, he’s the only person I know besides me who doesn’t carry around a cell phone.” I thought about calling Bob’s house, but I'd had strict training from my mother that phone calls could not be made before eight in the morning or after ten at night. I harbored irrational fears that if I broke that rule I would inevitably call a wrong number and wake some total stranger.
Where could someone look for information about me if I had disappeared? They would only have to ask Kay, who knew practically everything about me. Bob had only lived here a matter of weeks. But he’d had a whole life in High Cross before he moved here. He must have had friends, and he’d told me he was a freelance writer so he would need contacts to do that.
“I know,” I said. Both dogs pricked their ears at me. “Writers use computers. Let’s go look at Bob’s and see if it gives us anything useful.”
I ran a brush through my hair before leading the dogs back to the kitchen. I scooped dog food into a couple of bowls, and while Emily Ann and Jack scarfed that down I slipped my wallet into a fanny pack and strapped it on. In a few minutes we were all bundled into my car, with the garage door closing on Bob’s vehicle, now safely hidden from view.