by Guy Harrison
***
With the moon shining upon Roxborough, I pull up to Valerie’s house. It certainly fits Hamilton’s description: large, brick, and hard to miss. By the looks of things, someone’s home; there are a few lights on inside. Before getting out of my car, I check the mirrors to ensure that I’m still the younger, nerdy hipster I turned into. Valerie’s family may not open the door for an older black man past eight in the evening.
Much like I did at Richardson’s house in East Falls, I climb the small steps leading to a path through the home’s large front yard. I jump when I see a large German shepherd jump up into one of the windows, barking like hell as its breath fogs up the window.
I reach the front door and ring the doorbell. But before my finger leaves the button, the door opens. An older woman comes out of the house, startled to see me. She fits the profile of what I expected to find when I met Elena.
“Oh, hi,” she says.
“Hi. I’m looking for Valerie. Is she home?”
She starts walking down the path. “Oh, no. She’s with her family on vacation.”
“Oh. Any idea when they’ll be back?”
“Not for another two weeks. They’re in Florida.”
I know exactly where Valerie is. “Ah, okay. Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome. Could you be a gentleman and help me down those stairs? My knees are bad today.”
“Sure.”
I take the old lady’s arm.
“What’s your name?” she says.
“Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby. I’m Rita. How do you know Val?”
“We go way back. High school.”
“That’s cute,” she says, taking each step one at a time. “I’ve been house sitting for her family for years. Valerie’s a very sweet girl.”
“I know.”
“Well, this is my car. Thank you for your help.”
“No problem.”
I watch Rita get into her car before pulling out my cell phone and dialing Jimenez’s number.
“Hello?” she says. She’s been sleeping.
“Clearwater Beach.”
“Huh?”
“Valerie’s on vacation. She’s in Clearwater Beach.”
