“Lousy,” Ann replied flatly. “And it’s no wonder. She hardly ever does her homework.”
“Well, all I can say is give her time. She just needs to adjust to everything.”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Karen. I need all I can get right now.”
“No problem, dear-I think I just heard Bill pull up. We’re taking in a movie tonight. I sure wish you’d hurry up and find a man so we can double sometime!”
Ann laughed. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet, Karen. I’ve got enough problems as it is.”
“Well, you should still keep your eyes open anyway. It may be just what you need now-a relationship of some kind. It would help get your mind off your troubles.”
“I doubt it. I don’t think I’d be very good company to anyone right now,” Ann lamented.
“Nonsense! I can see that you need an ego-boost, dear. Trust me, any man in this town would kill to go out with you! If I looked just half as good as you do, I could be taking my pick of eligible bachelors!”
Ann laughed again. “You’re too much, Karen! But in spite of your tendency to exaggerate, I’ll take the compliment anyway. At least you’ve managed to make me smile.”
“Come on in, honey,” she heard Karen say. “Ann, Bill’s here. I want you to think about what I said and cheer up! Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Thanks, Karen. If I don’t talk to you tomorrow, I’ll see you at the office Monday.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow and check in,” Karen asserted. “Take care of yourself, Ann.”
“I will, Karen. Tell Bill I said hello, and you guys have a good time tonight.”
“Thanks, dear. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Ann hung up the phone feeling grateful for having a friend like Karen. She always had that knack for making her laugh, she thought to herself.
Karen Walker was office manager at the travel agency where Ann worked. She was fifty years old, divorced, with two kids who were all grown up and married. And although she might look her age physically, she possessed a lighthearted attitude toward life that made her seem years younger. When Ann was introduced to Karen on her first day at the agency, the two hit it off immediately and had become best friends from then on.
Bill Warner was Karen’s boyfriend-mid-fifties, balding, and worshipped the very ground Karen walked on. They had been dating for over five years and Ann often wondered why they didn’t simply get married after all this time. Karen’s explanation was that she’d “already made that mistake once,” and insisted that she was quite content with their relationship the way it was. Ann had the feeling, however, that Bill wasn’t in total agreement with Karen, and would gladly marry her at the drop of a hat.
Ann stared blankly at the kitchen table as her thoughts shifted to Marsha. She felt a tear come to her eye as the stark reality of her death hit home once again. Already she missed her lifelong friend, and she knew that life would never be the same without Marsha Bradley in it. Before moving to Columbus, Marsha had been her confidante and sounding board during the divorce, always there to comfort and support her. Marsha had in fact been one of the few reasons she had been hesitant to move out of Smithtown after the divorce. Perhaps had she not moved away, Marsha might still be alive today…
Ann held her head in her hands and shut her eyes. She suddenly felt very alone, living in a strange new city in unfamiliar surroundings. Had she done the right thing? Would she have been better off forgiving Sam for what he’d done and staying with him, instead of stirring everything up as she had? The after-effects of the divorce had so far been anything but auspicious. Nobody was happy. Not Sam, not herself, and certainly not Amy.
And now, Marsha Bradley was dead.
Was somebody trying to tell her that she’d made a mistake?
The sound of the squeaky hot water faucet coming from the bathroom reminded her that Amy was going out tonight and that she’d be left alone in the house for the rest of the evening. She had never really gotten used to not having Sam around since the divorce-especially at night-and she had been even more apprehensive about it since moving to Columbus. Even though Woodcrest was supposedly a “safe neighborhood” as suburban neighborhoods go, it didn’t make Ann feel any more secure. The porch light suddenly crossed her mind and she wondered how the bulb could have gotten unscrewed so far. Could the wind have done it? she wondered. Certainly not! Maybe it had been loose all this time, barely making contact, and had just happened to back itself out far enough to go out while she and Amy were gone. Yes, she decided, that’s probably what had happened.
Just then, Ann heard a rustling noise outside, coming from the back yard. She stood up and ran over to the window and peered out. The yard was pitch dark and she recalled that the floodlight mounted on the roof had never worked right since they’d moved in. Ann had attempted to replace the bulb herself but it was too high up for her to reach, so she had called the landlord and asked him to do it for her. Mr. Ogilvy had come over the next day with his ladder and a new bulb, and having finished replacing the old one, had informed her that there was a short in the wiring and that he had gone ahead and repaired it. Since then the light had worked sporadically, going off and on randomly, as if it had a mind of its own. Ann hadn’t yet taken the time to call Mr. Ogilvy back to tell him that it still wasn’t working right.
She would call him first thing in the morning, she decided.
Ann’s eyes adjusted somewhat to the darkness as she looked around the yard as far as she could see from her vantage point. Finally, a couple of moments later, she felt assured that there weren’t any intruders outside. Probably a raccoon or opossum, she thought to herself.
Ann realized that her heart was racing now and she looked down at her hands to find that they were trembling. She smiled wryly, telling herself that she was letting her imagination get the best of her. She simply had to try and get her mind off of everything, she resolved. Maybe get into a good book after Amy left.
Ann turned around and strode out of the kitchen. She paused outside the bathroom and opened the door a few inches. “Save me some hot water, kiddo!” she shouted into the steamy bathroom.
“Okay!” Amy hollered back from the tub.
Ann closed the door, went upstairs and peeked into Amy’s bedroom. It was a mess as usual, but she had hoped that it would have lasted longer than this. She’d helped Amy tidy up only yesterday and it already looked like a tornado had blown through it. With a sigh, she crossed the hall to her own room and entered.
As she sat down on the side of the bed to take off her shoes, Ann looked around the room and felt grateful that she and Amy had been fortunate enough to rent this house, as opposed to having to live in an apartment. She had Sam to thank for that. When she had informed him that she and Amy were moving to Columbus, he had been predictably shocked and angry with her. He had fumed that it wasn’t fair of her to move his daughter out of town, and accused Ann of making an already bad situation even worse. This had made her feel guilty, but she explained to him that she couldn’t bear to live in Smithtown any longer, and asserted that she wanted someday to return to college and get her law degree. Furthermore, she needed to get Amy and herself settled in before school started in the fall so Amy could get herself adjusted.
Sam had reluctantly given in and wanted to know where she intended to live. Ann had replied that they would get an apartment and Sam had immediately objected, insisting that they at least try and find a house to rent because apartments weren’t safe. Sam had subsequently made a few calls to some friends he knew living in Columbus and one of them had tipped him off about this house in Woodcrest. Sam had even driven up with Ann and Amy to check it out and had ended up paying the first month’s security deposit as well.
The house was perfect, all things considered. The rent was reasonable and it was roomy for its size. Ann particularly liked the family room that had been added on to the rear of the house, complete with a working fireplace and a bar.
Sam was a good man
, in spite of his faults, she thought to herself The image of seeing him emerging from that bitch’s apartment, arm-in-arm, flashed through her mind and made her teeth clench. She would never be able to forget that look on Sam’s face when he had spotted her parked across the street, watching them…
Sam had supposedly been working late at the Observer that night. He’d called Ann at around dinnertime and told her that he was running behind on an article he was writing, and that he had to finish it up that evening so it could go to press in the morning. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, he’d said, and he told Ann to go ahead and eat dinner without him. She had immediately suspected foul play, because Sam had rarely stayed late at work in the many years they’d been married. He had always preferred bringing his work home to finish because, as Sam put it, he would “rather be at home with his family than cooped-up in that fuckin’ office.”
Besides this break from the usual, Sam’s tone of voice had sounded different that evening, a little more distant than usual, as if he was already feeling guilty for what he was scheming to do. Ann’s suspicions mounted when Sam had called her the second time, at around nine o’clock. He was a little drunk, Ann suspected, when he told her that the article was taking longer than he’d anticipated and that he needed another hour or so. Ann had managed to remain calm though, telling Sam not to worry, that she fully understood.
There had been a few rumors going around town at the time that Sam had taken a sudden interest in a certain young woman whom the paper had recently hired as an apprentice photojournalist. Her name was Shelley Hatcher. She was around twenty years old and fairly new in town; having recently moved to Smithtown from somewhere in Kentucky. Apparently, Sam had taken Shelley under his wing since he himself was an accomplished photographer, and in fact, always shot his own pictures for his articles in the newspaper.
Ann had a funny hunch what was happening, so she had made a quick phone call to one of her friends who once mentioned that she knew where this Shelley woman lived. Apparently Shelley had had a few wild parties at her apartment and Ann’s friend, who lived nearby, had twice seen the cops come to break them up because of complaints about the noise. Ann got Shelley’s address from her friend, trying her hardest not to arouse her suspicions yet knowing all the while that she wasn’t fooling her for a second.
Ann had then hopped into her car and drove by the Observer to see if Sam’s Jeep was in the parking lot. Just as she suspected, it wasn’t. She drove to the address her friend had given her, which turned out to be a small apartment complex on the other end of town. And sure enough, the Jeep was parked out front.
Ann had parked across the street and waited for nearly an hour before Sam suddenly came out the door with Shelley Hatcher hanging all over him. The slut had just planted a big kiss on Sam’s cheek when he glanced across the street and spotted her. He had immediately broken away from Shelley and run over to the car to beg Ann’s forgiveness. He knew he’d been caught, and hadn’t even tried to lie his way out of it…
Ann took off her other shoe, then went over to the dresser and picked up the family portrait. She stared at Sam’s tall, slender frame, his long, unruly hair and his soft gray eyes. His expression was calm, content. She and Sam both had their arms around Amy and the three of them looked like one happy, loving family. Even Amy looked content and at ease, in contrast to her present demeanor; smiling and full of love for her mother and father. Ann’s eyes traveled over to her own image and smiled pensively, recalling how long it had taken to get her hair to look that good…
She quickly set the picture down and felt a stab of sadness. A family once so full of love and togetherness was no more. She could still recall how hurt and angry she had been when she’d caught Sam cheating on her, and how old and obsolete she’d suddenly felt when she saw Shelley Hatcher for the first time that awful night. Ann no longer felt wanted; her husband no longer found her desirable. That’s what had gone through her mind. Sam had risked everything just to sleep with a younger, more attractive woman, and she knew that she could never make love to him again knowing that.
Ann had filed for divorce the following day.
Word spread quickly about the incident and the public humiliation had been unbearable. Once it got out that Ann wanted a divorce, it seemed as though everyone in town started looking at her differently-as if she was the wrongdoer, not Sam. Everyone except Marsha, that is. Marsha liked Sam as much as the rest of the town did, but Marsha also knew how proud her friend was and how much it had hurt her to see her husband with another woman. Marsha encouraged her to go through with the divorce and supported her all the way to the end.
Amy, on the other hand, had mixed feelings at the time. She knew that what her father had done was wrong but at the same time didn’t want to see her parents split up. It had been especially hard for her the day that Sam had packed his bags and moved in with Roger. Their house had suddenly become a broken home.
Ann had to admit that she’d actually felt sorry for Sam by the time the divorce had been finalized. He was really hurt and it showed, yet he had still managed to be a gentleman throughout the whole thing. He’d tried his hardest to make it as painless as he could, just for Amy’s sake. When the papers were being signed, Ann had almost gotten cold feet and backed out at the last second. But she hadn’t.
Once it was all over, Ann knew that she had to get out of Smithtown. She had suddenly felt like she was living in a fish bowl and that everyone hated her for what she’d done. She wanted to leave town as soon as possible, to get away from the narrow minds and to get on with her life. To start anew with a clean slate. Columbus seemed to be the most obvious destination. It wasn’t far away, but far enough…
Ann heard Amy coming up the stairs and attempted to compose herself. Moments later she went across the hall to her daughter’s bedroom. Amy was rifling through her drawers when Ann entered.
“Do you know where my navy blue sweater is, Mom?” she asked.
“I think it’s hanging in your closet, honey,” Ann replied. “It’s a wonder you can find anything in this room!” she added, staring aghast at the piles of clothes thrown all over the floor and on the bed.
Amy ignored her comment and went over to the closet.
“What movie are you going to see?” Ann asked curiously.
“Not sure yet. Probably the new Christian Slater one. I can’t remember the name of it.”
“Isn’t that rated R?” Ann asked. She knew that it was. She’d seen a preview for it on television the other day.
Amy found the sweater and glanced over at her mother, a smirk on her face. “Yeah, but we’ll get in.”
Ann wanted to protest but didn’t. She stood and watched Amy as she flung the sweater on the bed and took off her robe; in awe of how quickly her little daughter was growing up. The freckles on her fair skin were barely noticeable now. The baby fat was gone and her breasts were nearly as large and full as her own. Amy’s proportions had become more defined as well. Longish legs, tiny waist, slender hips. And the cherubic face had suddenly taken on a young woman’s countenance-high cheekbones, full lips, aquiline nose and haunting green eyes, all framed by a thick, luxurious mane of auburn hair.
Amy sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans that fit so tight they looked as though they were painted on. She stood up again, put on a cream-colored knit blouse then the sweater.
“Have you met any interesting boys at school yet?” Ann asked as Amy slipped into a pair of loafers.
“A few,” she mumbled, feigning disinterest.
“Don’t you have a school dance coming up soon?”
“Homecoming.”
“Are you going?” Ann inquired.
“Don’t know, yet. Doubt it, though,” she replied.
“How come?”
“No one goes to school dances at Woodcrest, I’ve heard. Just nerds and cheerleaders.”
“That’s odd,” Ann said. “Everyone went to school dances when I was your
age. In fact, the ‘nerds’ were usually the ones who didn’t go,” she added.
Amy stepped over to the vanity and started putting on her makeup. “That was eons ago, Mom.”
“Thanks a lot!”
“Just kidding!” Amy chided. “Anyway, this isn’t Smithtown. Kids are a lot cooler up here.”
Ann wondered what constituted coolness… drugs and sex? She shuddered at the thought. “So what do you think of the high school now that you’ve had a chance to settle in?”
Amy carefully applied her eyeliner. “It’s awfully big, that’s for sure. I think I’ll like it better when I’m no longer a freshman.” She spoke the last word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
Ann asked, “Are the upper classmates giving you a hard time?”
“Some of them. There’s a lot of snobs at Woodcrest, I’ve noticed.”
“There are snobs everywhere, honey,” Ann declared.
Amy reached for the blow dryer and said, “Maybe. But there are a lot of rich snobs at Woodcrest. There’s a difference, you know.”
With that, Amy switched on the hair dryer and Ann realized that their little chat was over. She returned to her own bedroom, slipped out of the uncomfortable black dress she was wearing, put on her robe and slipped into her house slippers before going downstairs to the bathroom. Ann turned on the water for her bath and was sampling the temperature when she heard a horn honking out front. She ran out to the living room window and parted the curtains to find Amanda’s mother’s car pulled up in the driveway. After making a gesture with her hand, Ann ran upstairs to alert Amy that her friend had arrived.
“Shit!” Amy hissed as she turned off the hairdryer. “She’s early!”
Ann ignored the profanity-she’d almost gotten used to it by now. “Do you want me to ask them to come inside to wait until you’re ready?”
“No, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. I hate my fucking hair!”
The May Day Murders Page 3
