by Jane Suen
I walked up to the clerk when my turn came. “Good morning,” I said.
“Checking out?”
I shook my head.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face. He scowled, clearly displeased with me.
I ventured an apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. I’d like to stay the weekend … if you have a room.”
His fingers clicked on the keyboard as he stared intently at the monitor. “I’m afraid we have no vacancies.”
My heart sank. “So, nothing available,” I said. I reached for my pocketbook, fumbling for my room key to go pack up.
He paused, seeing my distress, and faced the screen again. “Let me check one more time.”
I held my breath and crossed my fingers.
“Ah, I have you now,” he finally said. “You’re good to go, and you can stay in your room.” I thought I detected a sneer behind his uneven, toothy grin.
I sighed with relief. “Oh, great.”
“But it’ll cost you more.”
“How much more?”
“This weekend it’ll be thirty dollars,” he said, adding quickly, “I told you we’d be filled with the funeral and all.”
I plunked down my money. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”
I felt relieved to get this done, expecting a busy day ahead of me. I snatched a cup of coffee and a donut on my way out. When I reached my car, my phone rang.
I took the call.
“Is this Eve, Eve Sawyer?” said a man’s voice, sounding muffled.
“Speaking,” I said, digging for the notepad and pen in my pocketbook.
“Uh, I saw your ad.” He paused.
“Oh yes,” I said, hardly able to contain my excitement.
“Well, I’m just wondering … how come you’re asking about her.”
“I’m doing research for a school project.”
“Yeah, but why her?”
“I’m intrigued. Lacey Walken disappeared without a trace, and they matched her blood to the blood-stained scarf at Murder Creek.”
“You know the sheriff has investigated this,” he said.
“Do you have information for me? I’m assuming that’s why you called.”
“I’m warning you. Drop it now.” He suddenly shouted, “Get out of town!”
The line went silent.
“No!” I cried as he cut me off. I checked the time on my phone. It was a quarter to eleven.
Chapter 13
I HATED BEING rattled, especially when I hadn’t had my morning java. I sat in my car and ate my donut. It tasted stale and caught in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I washed it down with the weak motel coffee, taking long gulps. It was probably some no-name brand, but I wasn’t complaining. I felt a surge of energy from the sugar rush.
Moving on to the task at hand, I picked up my phone and typed in the address for my meeting with the Walken man at eleven.
The map on my phone displayed a short five-minute drive. I could have walked from downtown. The directions led me to a house at the edge of town, and I was early.
He was waiting for me, standing on the porch. His tight lips and a faint scowl sent out unfriendly vibes. I detected a whiff of displeasure and his eyes were both curious and cold.
I jumped out of my car and slammed the door. He didn’t move. I hesitated, since he had offered no greeting. I shrugged, moving the straps of my backpack up. I took a deep breath and walked toward him. The walk that said I’d take no prisoners, and I was in control.
“Eve Sawyer,” I said, coming face to face with him.
He shifted slightly. A slight nod of acknowledgement.
I could tell he would not make it easy for me. “Mr. …?”
“Amos,” he mumbled. “Amos Walken.”
“Any relation to Lacey Walken?”
“Yeah, a distant cousin.”
“You knew her well?”
“She was a little younger than me, but heck, yes.”
“What can you tell me about her disappearance?” I asked, looking at Amos. Up close I could see wrinkles on his sun-browned face, forehead, and around his eyes, the laugh lines etched around his mouth. He was chewing something, a wad tucked in his cheek.
He spat out a stream of brown tobacco juice and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Done talking about that.” His expression had a “I’m not going there again” look.
“How about you tell me something about growing up with her? What was she like really?”
“Lacey? Hell, she was the purtiest girl in town.”
From her picture in the newspaper, I could easily see how she could be.
“All the guys were after her?”
He tugged his thumb in his jeans. “You could say so.”
“Did she have someone special?”
“Not that I knew of.” He sniffed and kept chewing.
“What about her girlfriends?”
“The girls were jealous of her, but she had a roommate.”
I took out my pad and pen, flipping to a blank page. “Her name?”
“Sally.”
“Is she still around?”
He straightened up and stared at me. Then he leaned back against the porch beam and chewed on his tobacco.
“Depends. She ain’t right,” he said.
“You mean she’s sick?”
He shook his head. “She’s half drunk, most days.”
“I’m sorry, but I need to talk to her.”
“I don’t know if she’ll want to talk to you.”
I flipped my notepad to the page where I had written the two addresses. “Tell me where she lives.”
He squinted, and I waited for his response. He hesitated, as if he was struggling to decide how much to say. When he finally gave it to me, I wrote it down, my fingers trembling.
I closed my pad and turned to go. “Thank you,” I said, my feet bouncing down the steps.
Chapter 14
THE GPS HAD me driving past the town, ending at a destination on the other side. I hadn’t realized the town extended far. Here I saw dilapidated houses, cracked sidewalks, and a run-down, weary appearance. I parked and walked to a small clapboard house needing more than a coat of paint. This was a far cry from the other side of town. I gingerly stepped on the wooden steps, testing to be sure they could hold my weight, holding the guardrails for support. I didn’t see a doorbell, so I knocked on the door. The glass panes rattled as I knocked a second time, harder.
I heard a faint sound inside, a scraping noise. I held my hand over my eyes and peered through the glass, but all I could see was a dark hallway.
I waited a few more minutes and was about to leave. At the click of a lock turning, I whipped around, alert, watching the door slowly open a crack.
“Hello, I’m Eve Sawyer,” I said, smiling. “I just talked to Amos Walken.”
The door opened wider; the hinge squeaking. I stuck my toes in the gap. “Are you Sally?” I paused. “I just need to talk to you for a few minutes. May I come in?”
“What do you want?” the woman croaked, her words slurred. I could see the cotton gown she was wearing. It was rumpled as if she’d slept in it.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” I stepped back now. I needed to gain her trust. “I just have a few questions about Lacey Walken.”
“What’s it to you?”
“I’m a student doing research on a term paper on the disappearance of Lacey, and I’m hoping you can help me. Were you Lacey’s roommate?”
She gave a throaty laugh, then hacked a cough. “Yeah, until she disappeared and stiffed me with the rent.”
“But someone could have forced her, taken her against her will.”
She was quiet. Like her mind had cleared for a moment. “I don’t believe that.”
“Why?”
“She took her gold locket.”
“How would you know?”
“I searched for it afterwards. I was desperate for money, and I thought I could … you know, s
ell it.” She looked at me, unashamed. “A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.”
“Are you sure Lacey had it?”
“I knew where she kept it in her room. It was hidden, shoved in the back of her dresser drawer.”
“She told you about that?”
Sally shook her head. “I went through her clothes once, looking to borrow a top. I reached back in the drawer and my fingers touched something small and hard, a jewelry box.”
“You’ve never seen Lacey wear it?”
“Nope, she never showed it to me either. I sneaked a peek and saw the gold locket inside.”
Chapter 15
I DROVE BACK to the motel to take a quick nap.
I tossed everything on the table, including my pocketbook, and went to the bathroom. Running the water from the sink, I washed my hands and splashed water on my face. I felt tired suddenly, as I flopped on the bed.
My phone woke me up. It wasn’t a grouchy wake-up where I hadn’t had enough sleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but I felt satisfied, refreshed. I reached for my phone. It was Mike.
“Hello,” I said, rubbing my eyes, and I yawned.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“It’s been interesting.”
“Are you staying or leaving today?”
“I’m here for the weekend.”
“Want to meet me for dinner?”
I checked the time. It was four thirty in the afternoon. “Sure, what time?”
“Thirty minutes, at the diner?”
“Okay.” I ended the call, running to the bathroom.
Chapter 16
WHILE I’D SLEPT, the dark clouds had churned, and the promised rain came, covering everything with a wet blanket, but it didn’t wake me. I was so tired. I had learned a few things about Lacey, things not reported. The photo haunted me, the face of Lacey. I refused to believe her life had been extinguished. A part of me wanted to find her alive, to search for her. But I also knew it might be hopeless. Others had tried, and the trail had gone cold.
I considered the possibilities, conjecturing on what could have happened. I pulled back the faded orange-brown curtains, revealing the still-cloudy day. Raindrops had splattered the windowpane, leaving translucent tails streaking down the glass. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since this morning, the stale donut long gone.
The rain had quieted down to a soft drizzle. I gathered my backpack and left, closing the door behind me. I walked to the diner despite the rain.
The windows were fogged from the humidity. I went inside quickly, feeling assured of having someone to talk to, someone who I trusted.
Chapter 17
I FOUND MIKE at a table, back from the windows this time. I waved and went over. He hadn’t ordered yet.
“Hi, Mike,” I said.
He jumped up and pulled out a seat for me.
I nodded a thank you.
The same waitress came by and took our orders. I asked for the same plate of vegetables. Mike had an eight-ounce steak, with a baked potato slathered with butter and sour cream. It’d been so long since I’d had meat that the smell of it made me sick. I said nothing though and concentrated on my meal.
Mike was looking at me with a bemused expression as I wolfed down my food. I told him I was hungry, having skipped lunch. I ordered a slice of apple pie to satisfy my sweet tooth.
“So, tell me more about you.” I said, turning my full attention to Mike.
“What do you want to know?”
“How d’you end up here?”
“My mama fell in love with a northerner. When they got married, she left with him and they moved back up north. Then I came along.” He chuckled.
I smiled.
He paused, his face all serious. “When Dad died after an accident, Mama moved back home. Mama didn’t like the weather up there. It was cold, especially where they lived in the Dakotas. She never got used to it.”
“Your mama …”
“She loved her husband. When he died, the spark went out of her and she was never the same afterward.”
“She had you.”
“She raised me,” said Mike. “At night, when it was all quiet, I could hear her. She thought I was asleep. But I wasn’t always. That’s when she’d cry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I couldn’t do anything.” He sighed.
“You were a child.”
“I’d catch her looking at me sometimes with a dreamy look like she was elsewhere.” Mike had the most forlorn look on his face. His mouth pursed tight, like he was stubborn and refused to cry. There was a hint of a quiver on his lips.
“Did you … were you like your dad?”
“She said I looked like him, my nose.” He crinkled his face. “Like this.”
I didn’t have the heart to ask him how much of his dad he remembered. All I could do was stare at his nose. It was strong, aquiline. I noticed none of the flared nostrils and reddened veins which older men get when they’d been habitual drinkers. I stayed quiet, out of respect and because I didn’t know what to say.
“How did your day go?” asked Mike after a moment of silence.
“Good, although I took a nap and slept through the rain.”
“We get those a lot, the quick summer thunderstorms.” He didn’t banter much and came straight to the point. “Tell me what you found out today.”
“I talked to a relative of Lacey’s and her roommate.”
Mike raised his eyebrows, but kept his mouth shut.
“It seems Lacey was popular with the guys,” I said. “You’ve never mentioned it when we talked.”
“You’ve never asked me that exactly.”
“You knew her. What was she like?”
Mike stroked his chin and took a sip of water before he answered. “Lacey was a special girl. Sure, she was beautiful, but her beauty wasn’t just skin-deep.”
“Go on.”
“The way I heard it, one time she found an injured bird. It was lying on the ground, and it couldn’t fly. She took it to the vet,” said Mike.
“She liked animals.”
“She stuck up for little kids too. Word got around the time she was walking home from school and saw one of the bigger boys kicking a little kid. He had his fists up and was getting ready to pummel the kid.”
“She didn’t jump in the fight, did she?”
“No.”
“What did she do?”
“She pulled the little kid up from the ground and sheltered him with her body,” said Mike. “He was ready to punch her out. But the look she gave him …” He stopped to shake his head. “It was something fierce.”
“So she was kind and vanilla sweet. Sounds boring.”
“Not; she had a nasty side, like we all do. If you got on her bad list, you would endure the brunt of her anger.”
“What about her parents? Were they strict on her or what?”
“She was raised by a single mom. She left home later and moved in with Sally.”
“What about school?”
“She quit suddenly when she started working full-time at the pizza joint.”
“They called the sheriff when she didn’t show up for work?”
“Right. As they reported it, her shift at the pizza place started at four in the afternoon,” Mike said.
I took out my notepad and outlined a time frame. “Did her roommate see her the night before?”
He shook his head. “I think she worked the four to twelve shift the night before. If she came home late, her roommate may not have seen her—and Sally had a day job at the grocery store. So, she wouldn’t have known.”
“Ah, then it makes sense,” I said. “Lacey didn’t show up at four, the pizza place called home, and when she couldn’t be found and they discovered her bloody scarf—they reported her as missing.”
“You got it.”
“According to the newspaper, she disappeared sometime between midnight and four in the afternoon the next day.”
I DRUMMED MY fingers on the table. “Did Lacey have any enemies?”
“Not that I knew of,” said Mike.
“Is the pizza place still open?”
“No, that place, the Pizza GoKing, was a hang-out for kids after school. But after Lacey went missing, it closed up.”
“That’s odd. Do you know why?”
“Not a clue.”
I made a note to look into Pizza GoKing. “Who was her boss at the time?”
“They interviewed him on the news,” Mike said. “He liked the attention, I could tell, and embellished it—the part about when she didn’t show up, and what lengths he went to after that.”
“His name?”
“I can’t recall.”
I made another note to find his name. It was getting late, and I still needed to hit the library and check out the local papers. I planned to make that stop after dinner.
It felt like a productive day. I stretched, yawning deeply. My second full day and things were happening. I jotted down all my questions on another page, all the whys and what made sense, and what didn’t.
I dug into the apple pie, cutting into the scoop of vanilla ice cream. I could eat this every day.
Chapter 19
THE UNASSUMING BUILDING was set back from the road, the parking lot overtaking the front and side of the lawn. I almost didn’t see it. The bronze plaque—Carlton Public Library—was the only sign on the front door. The interior reminded me of my elementary school library in the city. It was small and cozy, shelves stuffed full of books, an atmosphere of charm. The gray-haired woman at the desk looked up when I approached.
“Nice place here,” I said.
She smiled warmly, the welcome you’d get when you’re a frequent customer. “How can I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to the reference librarian please.”
“That’s me.” She waved her hand at the room. “I’m the only one here today.”
“I’m in luck then.” I chuckled. Maybe it was the rain, but I only saw three other library users.
“You’re looking for something in particular?”
