The Sunset Witness (7 page)

I didn't want anyone at Twyla's to know about the
intruder at my beach house.  It was never easy to be the new person on a job,
and having issues from the start would not help.  I was certain no one would
bother me again.  I was not leaving the key under the loose brick anymore.  I
planned to wash my car at home on Friday for the benefit of anyone watching.

Parking was minimal at Twyla's and it was close, so I
walked to work.  Even the locals walked to and from the restaurant.  However, I
was looking over my shoulder all the way home.

Fortunately, the light in the parking lot had been
replaced and was functioning.  I'd left all the lights on and closed the blinds
before I left, so the house would appear to be occupied.  Still, I was nervous
turning the key in the door.  This time I looked at the mural first.  It was
unchanged.  I went to the closet while walking sideways so I could see the
bedroom screen and bathroom.  I flung the door open and stepped back so someone
could not jump out and grab me.  Then I looked behind the screen.  I'd left the
shower curtain pushed to one side, so I could see no one was hiding there.

I hung my clothes in the closet and changed into my
pajamas.  Then I checked my email and Facebook page and brought this journal up
to date.  That had been my routine before I arrived in Sunset, but the events
of the previous two days had changed my routine.  I deleted most of the emails
because I'd already received them on my phone.  I'd not posted on Facebook
since before I arrived in Sunset.  I read the News Feed, commented on posts of
a few friends, and went to Sarah's page.  Her last post was on the previous
Friday when she said she'd worked her last shift and had an impressive array of
boxes for her move.  I posted I'd moved to Oregon, liked my new job, and was
about to start my first novel.

After I removed Sarah's sheets from the bed, I
replaced them with the ones I'd used Tuesday night.  I folded her sheets so she
could use them on the futon if she stayed with me before I found time to do the
laundry.  I put her sheets and pillow on the top shelf of the closet and left a
lamp on in the living room.

Although I'd been too preoccupied with the fear that
gripped me after discovering the knife in the mural to be concerned about a
tsunami, the surf outside my window reminded me to have an evacuation plan.  I
knew I'd be rattled if I woke up in the middle of the night for an emergency. 
I already had a bottle of water and granola bars in my backpack.  I added a
change of underwear, pair of shorts, t-shirt, flashlight and my glasses.  I usually
wore contact lenses, but I'd not take time for them in an emergency.  My mother's
wedding ring was in a small box in the bottom of the backpack.  I made sure my
phone and flash drive were in my purse.  Then I placed it and my tennis shoes
right next to the backpack so I could grab both if I was half asleep.

I lay in bed looking at the ceiling and thinking. 
The state had done an impressive job of educating tourists about tsunamis.  I
knew a tsunami off the coast of Oregon was a very real possibility in the event
of an earthquake.  There would be no time for a warning.  An earthquake farther
away would cause a warning siren to sound.  I'd have more time to evacuate.  In
the first instance, I'd travel on foot and get to the top of the hill above
Sunset as quickly as possible.  If I heard the siren, I'd get into my car and
try to beat a traffic jam out of town and toward the lighthouse.  I dreaded
waking to a siren almost as much as waking to an earthquake.  What terrified me
most was a fear of drowning.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Friday morning I booted my laptop and found an email
from Sarah.  She thought it was a great idea for me to drive to Hoquarten
instead of her coming to Sunset.  She would be up early unpacking.  I could get
there whenever I wanted.  I was encouraged to hear from her and then realized
she'd not included directions to her house.  I found the address she'd given me
over the phone before I left Arizona.  Then I searched Google Maps for
directions from the beach house to the address she gave me.  No directions were
available.  I assumed she must be living in a new area of Hoquarten, and it was
not picked up by the satellite yet.  I replied to her email and asked for directions
from Sunset.

I'd awoken early that morning and decided to start
plotting my novel.  I knew it was a good idea for a first-time author to write
about familiar places, people, and events.  I'd set the novel in Philadelphia
but would not use Villanova. When I studied ballet, I made friends with a girl
from Gladwyne, so I used her neighborhood.  I'd write about two friends who are
inseparable until a new family moves in and both girls are attracted to the
same boy.  I began my novel by describing the area where Rachel and Sarah grew
up.  I'd change our names with the
Find and Replace
feature once I'd
told our story.  My theme was love is powerful, destroys everything in its path,
and is, ultimately, self-destructive.  I had to research Gladwyne online for
some of the details I'd forgotten, so setting the scene took most of the
morning.

After lunch, I took the canister vacuum from the
closet and cleaned the interior of my car.  Nate was always fastidious about
his car.  He wiped the dash and doors with a tac rag, which is used to trap
dust before painting or staining.  I picked up the idea and always had a tac
rag in my car.  Sometimes I'd use it while I sat through several red lights in
traffic.  Once I had the interior clean, I rolled up the windows and sprayed
water on the car from top to bottom.  Then I added a few drops of dishwashing
liquid to a bucket and filled it with water.  I dipped my microfiber car wash
mitt into the soapy water and began washing the car from the roof to the hood
to the trunk lid, and then I washed the sides.  It was a cloudy day and perfect
for washing the car.  I was able to hose off the soap and use my chamois to dry
the surface instead of the sun drying it too quickly.  The wash job took the
better part of an hour, so I hoped if anyone was checking out the house for
Sarah's presence, he'd be satisfied she was no longer there.

After I was finished with the car, I took a shower
and dressed for my job at Twyla's.  I liked not having to spend time deciding
what I'd wear each day.  The bun simplified what to do with my hair.  I did
spend time with my makeup so I'd look polished and professional.  Jewelry was
limited to a pair of pearl earrings.  Dangly necklaces and bracelets were a
hazard in the kitchen and annoying to some customers, so they were taboo.

I called Frank to let him know I was going shopping
Saturday and to ask if he needed anything from Hoquarten.  He thanked me and
said Dennis had picked up a few things on Wednesday.

I had an hour to spare, so I sat on the porch with a
slightly worn copy of a Katharine Hepburn biography.  I'd bought the book in
Missoula at a book exchange and never got around to reading it.  There were
only a few books I carried from place to place.  Now that I owned an eBook
reader, I'd not collect more paperbacks.

Various people told me I resembled Miss Hepburn.  At
one time, I considered changing my name to Kate.  That was during my theatrical
phase when I became various characters I'd seen in the movies.  I saw the 1994
release of
Little Women
, but I preferred Miss Hepburn in the role of
Jo.  Her character inspired me to become a writer, too.  I never actually wrote
our plays down, but I did get my friends together to act out various dramas
that were loosely based upon what I'd seen at the movies the weekend before.  I
directed each friend in the way she should act and told everyone what to say. 
We had an extensive wardrobe department, because my mother discarded a third of
her closet routinely.  Looking back, I think my friends put up with my bossiness
because they enjoyed dressing up.

Twyla's was busy Friday evening.  Although Joel knew
most of the people who sat at his tables, no one looked familiar to me.  Some
of the clientele were very much like the restaurant itself…rough on the outside
and classy on the inside.  Guest attire ranged from grungy to elegant. 
However, only one couple preferred to get a cheeseburger and fries at the
diner.  Most of the diners had read the menu selections outside and knew what
to expect.  The portions were not large, but they were expertly prepared and Twyla
made sure the ingredients were fresh.

My favorite customer was a middle-aged lady who sat
at one of my tables alone.  She wore a long, red gingham dress with puff
sleeves and a flared skirt, western boots, and a wide-brimmed straw hat. 
Unlike so many single diners, she did not read a book while she ate.  She did
not even seem to notice the ocean.  When I looked her way, her eyes would be
closed as she held each morsel in her mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed.  Watching
her eat was like watching someone pray before a shrine.  She adored the food
and left a generous contribution to my tips.

As we were closing, I noticed someone new near the
bakery counter at the front.  He was a little taller than I, with dark hair
that was shorter and combed back on the sides and a little fuller on top with a
few stray strands falling on his high forehead.  He had stunning blue eyes
deeply set under strong brows and a disarming smile.  He was dressed head to
toe in black.  He was either a gangster or an agent of the FBI.  He was too
full of himself to be a missionary.  I heard Breanna tell him Joel would be out
in a minute.  I knew this must be Michael.  I was not surprised when Joel
brought him over to the table I was clearing and introduced us.  I felt my face
flush when Michael Archer reached for my hand and bent slightly to kiss it.  He
seemed to have stepped from another era.  Before he left with Joel, he said he
would look forward to seeing me on Sunday.

I'd not been in love since Nate.  I did not expect to
fall in love again.  After meeting Michael, I knew only the most serious
character flaw would keep me from falling in love with him.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

By the time I left Sunset on Saturday, I still did
not have an email or a phone call from Sarah.  She'd always been a
procrastinator, but I found it especially annoying then.  It was a lovely
morning for a drive, so I tried to focus on that instead.  I took a right at
the junction and drove along the coast for a few miles before turning inland. 
I found the grocery Frank had mentioned a short distance from Sunset.  There
were some serious potholes in the highway, so I was not surprised road repairs
were planned.  The highway cut through the rainforest before it opened up into
farmland.  Dairy cows and dairies were plentiful.  It took only a half hour for
me to arrive at the outskirts of Hoquarten.  I was mystified about Sarah's use
of the winding road above Sunset.  It took twice as long each way.  She must
have known about the shorter route.

As I waited for my car to fill with gas, I asked the
attendant if he could tell me how to get to Orchard Avenue.  He pointed to the
east and told me to stay on the street I was on.  He said it would curve to the
right and Orchard Avenue would be on the left.  He was not sure about house
numbers.  I followed his directions until I came to Orchard Avenue.  The first
quarter mile was farmland.  Then homes lined both sides of the street, but the
numbers were wrong.  I stopped in front of a yard where someone was mowing the
lawn.  I told the man I was looking for an address.  He said there was no such
number on Orchard Avenue.  I started walking to my car and then turned around.

I walked back to the man who was hosing off his lawn
mower.  He shut off the hose and looked at me as if I were selling something
and he already had too many.  I asked if he knew of anyone named Sarah who
lived on Orchard.  I described her.  He was sure no single women lived on the
street.  There was a young blonde woman who lived in the stucco house two doors
down.  I walked to the house and knocked on the door.  A teenager hollered “mom”
and glared at me.  His mother was blonde, but she was not Sarah.  I apologized
for bothering her and left.

As I was walking back to my car, I realized the
address Sarah had given me over the phone was the same number as that on the
house Nate and I shared with two other people when we attended the university
in Missoula.  Was this Sarah's idea of a joke?  Or was I to blame?  Had I
written my old address instead of hers because Orchard Avenue had stirred
memories of Nate?  If I only had the number wrong, why didn't I find her on
Orchard Avenue?  I called her number and was not surprised when she did not
answer.  I was sure she'd used me again.

I searched my phone browser for the graphic design
company Sarah mentioned.  I was encouraged to find it did exist.  When I
arrived, I found a CLOSED sign hanging in the window.  They were open from nine
to five Monday through Friday.  I peered in the windows and saw three desks. 
The desktop name plates were for Craig, Jennifer, and Ed.  If Sarah worked for
the company, she did not have a desk in the office.  I called the number on the
bottom of the sign.  An automated answering service gave me extensions for
Craig, Jennifer, and Ed.  There was no extension for Sarah.  I left a message
on Jennifer's extension.  I told her I was looking for a friend named Sarah who
might be employed at their company.  I asked her to call me one way or the
other on Monday.  By this time, I felt like the butt of a sick joke, but I
wanted to believe I'd misunderstood somehow.

I drove slowly through Hoquarten noticing places to
eat and shop.  I passed a modern-looking hospital and a clinic.  There was the
usual mall with shops specializing in sports equipment, shoes, various types of
apparel, and a hair and nail salon.  I found the Agate County Courthouse and Agate
County Administration Building and assumed the sheriff's department must be
close by when I saw vehicles like the one the evidence tech had driven to
Sunset when I met Detective Gannon.  I pulled into a parking space in front of
the administration building and went inside.  The sheriff's department was
straight ahead.  I asked the receptionist if Detective Gannon was on duty.  She
was not.  I wanted to know if she'd been in touch with Sarah after she moved to
Hoquarten.