The Chardon Chronicles: Season Two --- The Winter
Page 37
Chapter Two
Quite a bit of Keith’s professional career as a private investigator involved staring off into space and thinking about what other people were doing and why they were doing it. He spent a lot of time over the years looking at the spartan, drab accommodations of his offices. The walls of his current office were institutional blue-gray and the carpet was once light blue, but was so scuffed and dirty and threadbare that is was a brownish gray. A framed print hung from the wall over an antique credenza. Fresh flowers were the only spot of light and color in the room. Keith’s eyes kept flitting from the flowers to the print. The print was of a painting of a dog that saved a girl from drowning in the ocean. It was painted by a British artist named Landseer.
He was dwelling on how to find his ex wife. Her name was Stacy Anne Patterson, which was an annoyingly common combination of names, and he now wondered if it was an alias, which would make the search much harder, though not impossible. Likewise, he knew very little about her background. She basically arrived in his life from nowhere, and returned there.
He was having some luck finding mutual friends they had back in Los Angeles, but so far hadn’t found any threads that connected to her. He mumbled to himself, “Maybe I can get her face on milk containers.”
Years ago, Chloe scanned a bunch of their old family photos. He opened one of the pictures that had a good, clear shot of Stacy’s face and he cropped it down to just her head and shoulders, then did an image search. He scrolled through the results. There she was, she’d been in a few made for TV movies, and “C” grade horror movies. She had been working under the name of Patricia Molyneaux since they split up.
He studied the images that were available. He wasn’t totally sure the woman was Stacy. The makeup and airbrushing of the images obscured any moles and freckles and her hairstyle and color were different in each. He left a voicemail with her agent. Keith spoke carefully, and clearly in an even conversational tone. “Hello, I happened across a picture of Patricia Molyneaux. I think she might be my ex wife, Stacy Patterson. If you can pass a message along, I’d appreciate it. Our daughter Chloe is interested in meeting her mother. Chloe is doing very well, and is just curious about her family roots. If Patricia prefers, I can put her directly in touch with Chloe. Thanks.”
He thought it was a long shot, but so far, it was the only lead he had.