Page 12

Story: The Neighbor

11

For an hour, I pace back and forth across my living room, frustrated by my encounter with Caroline. That should make me want to kill her. For God’s sake, Amanda angered me a single time and that’s all it took with her. Tess never even irritated me and I knew I had to kill her.

Yet this one I can’t seem to figure out, so maybe that’s why I’m not ready to take that step. It will happen. I knew it from the moment I saw her the first time right after she moved in, even if I didn’t consciously acknowledge it.

Caroline Townsend will take her last breath as I choke the life out of her.

I’ve tried all the things I know that work to keep me from acting on my desire to kill. I focused on research. I told myself someone would find out and then my life here would be over. I tried to dive into work.

None of it has worked.

I know what I have to do. I have to kill someone else. But who?

It doesn’t take me long to figure out who my next victim is. She has to deserve it. I always know my targets deserve what they get. To me, that’s important. Other killers may not have to justify their deeds, but I do.

She has to be someone I think the world can do without. That opens up the pool to many people, but I prefer to stay close to home. That’s always been how I work. I like seeing the police as they try to solve the case. I like watching the details of it all on the news. So I need someone in the neighborhood or nearby.

You’re probably thinking it’s going to be Aaron. There’s just one problem with that. He’s not a woman. Not that he doesn’t have it coming, for sure, especially after that bullshit he pulled on me the other night. Even more, I’m still not sure he doesn’t know about me and my past.

Still, I don’t kill men. Don’t ask why. I just don’t.

So that leaves only women as possible choices. Kimmy? Marilyn? Suzanne? I know this may seem hard to believe, but I think Kimmy is actually growing on me. I can’t believe it myself, but there it is. As for Marilyn, I don’t like or dislike her, so she won’t work. And Suzanne might deserve it since she’s a lawyer, but to be honest, her husband deserves to have the fucking life strangled out of him more than her. Asshole runner.

His partner in crime, so to speak, is another story entirely. The other woman who knew full well she shouldn’t have come to our party the other day and still did, even after Suzanne came home from work. Yeah, she’s got it coming in spades.

So now all I have to do is find out everything there is to know about her. What I know so far isn’t much. Her name is Sara. She’s sleeping with Jared and likely broke up his marriage the other day, not that he wasn’t the main problem in the first place. She runs every morning with him.

But now that he’s moved out of his house, is that still the case? And is she married too? That would make letting poor suddenly homeless Jared stay at her place difficult.

I sit down at my desk and read through an email thanking me for my timely work on that job I nearly messed up. I can’t let that happen again. Studying my neighbors is all well and good, but my job keeps me fed and housed. I need to remember that always.

Since I made sure to catch up on all of my jobs after I realized I almost botched my reputation the other day, I’m free to do some research of my own. First, I want to find out if there’s ever been a Caroline Townsend who lived in Frederick. Initially, I felt overjoyed that she let that tidbit about her past slip, but now that I think about it, I have a sense that I won’t find a damn thing when I narrow my search to that city.

Caroline Townsend isn’t her real name. At least, it isn’t the name I need to find out who she truly is. That in itself tells me she’s concealing something big, and my gut says she isn’t going under a fake name to avoid having some ex find her. No, she’s too strong for that whole abused woman hiding from an awful ex-husband or boyfriend routine. That kind of strength can’t be faked.

No, she’s using a different name to avoid having people find out who she really is because of something she’s done. Just what that something is I’ve yet to unearth, but I’m not giving up.

I do my best search for Caroline Townsend in Frederick, but as I expected, I come up with nothing. Even when I expand my search to fifty miles in each direction outside the city I still find not a single mention of her.

Frustrated, I switch gears and focus on Sara, my new favorite girl. I know she lives a street over from Park Circle, but other than that, she’s a blank canvas. I could ask Kimmy about her. I bet she could give me a bunch of details about her, but I don’t want to arouse suspicion. Better to go about this a far more subtle way.

Looks like I’m going to need a new pair of running shoes and some running clothes for tomorrow morning.

Six o’clock a.m. comes earlier than I remember, and when the alarm goes off, I sit bolt upright in bed, sure the house is on fire. Still mostly asleep, I slam my hand down on my phone to stop that ridiculous chiming noise and collapse back down onto the bed.

A few minutes is all it takes for me to remember why I set that damn alarm in the first place. I need to go running this morning and hopefully meet up with Sara. As I scrub the last of the sleep from my eyes, I can’t help but think I’ve done some pretty odd things to get close to people, but this is the strangest. I’m not an athlete. I don’t think I’ve run more than a few steps to catch an elevator since high school.

It can’t be helped, though. If I want to get close to Sara, I need to go where she goes, and for now, the only place I know she can be found is running early in the morning. I’ve seen her and Jared out jogging by seven o’clock, so that’s the time I’ll be out in the street too.

Hopefully, the temperature isn’t too high, or my neighbors might find me melted in a puddle before this run is over. Nothing like setting out on a new exercise adventure during a heatwave.

I throw my legs off the side of the bed as recriminations fill my brain. Yes, I could find out about her by asking the neighborhood town crier Kimmy, but that could result in my being in a compromising position once Sara goes missing. It’s going to be bad enough having the cops question me because someone sees me running with her. I don’t need Kimmy offering up chapter and verse on me too.

So off I go running at the crack of dawn.

By the time I get dressed and ready to go, I’m wide awake, but just to make sure I can keep up with her, I down a cup of coffee like I’m a college frat boy slamming shots. Hopefully, the caffeine will get into my bloodstream fast enough so I have the energy for this.

Standing in my kitchen, I glance up at the clock and see it’s nearly seven. Time to go meet destiny.

I lock my front door and take off down the street, instantly hating the very idea of running. My feet are already killing me, and I haven’t even made it a full block. That’s what I get for wearing brand new running shoes. I’m in decent shape without doing any of this nonsense, but every inch of me feels like it’s being shifted with every time my feet hit the ground. Worst of all, these running shorts the guy at the sporting goods store swore would be great make me feel like I’m completely exposed to the world.

Putting all that out of my head, I focus on my ultimate goal as I run toward the end of the street to head toward where Sara lives. On my way, I see Caroline come out on her porch with a cup of coffee. Dressed in a pair of light blue shorts and a white T-shirt, she looks so comfortable, and I’m instantly jealous.

She gives me a strange look when I wave as I pass by. Probably didn’t think I was a runner. Or maybe she knows I’m not and wonders what the hell I’m doing out at this time of the morning dressed in this ridiculous clothes.

Add that to the reasons why I’m going to kill Sara. If she didn’t deserve it before this morning, she certainly deserves what’s coming to her now.

By the time I reach the corner of my street, my thighs feel like they’re burning from the inside out. I can only imagine what this would feel like if I was truly out of shape. As it is, I’m merely out of practice since I haven’t exercised in ages.

I glance back and see Caroline watching me intently. Interesting. I wonder why she’s so fixated on me this morning.

Unfortunately, I can’t find out since I need to locate Sara. I look at my watch and see it’s five after seven. Assuming she’s still doing her morning run now that Jared had to move out of his house, she should be around here somewhere.

By the time I reach her street just under a minute later, I’m right on time to see her just leaving her house. White with grey shutters, it doesn’t look as impressive as any of the homes on Park Circle. Not that Meadow Circle, her cul-de-sac, isn’t nice, but there’s a noticeable drop in luxury between the two areas.

She wears a pair of black running shorts and a white tank top that hugs her body. Her face isn’t much to look at normally, but this morning I don’t think she has a stitch of makeup on her, so she seems downright pasty. With her dirty blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail on the top of her head, she reminds me of one of those workout women my mother used to watch when I was little. They always wore some brightly colored headbands too, unlike Sara today.

Her purple and orange sneakers stand out and remind me of something a young child might color. They’re garish and ugly, but I bet she’s more comfortable in them than I am in my running shoes. For a moment, envy fills my mind, but I push that emotion away, forcing myself to focus on my task at hand this morning.

Sara sees me and waves in that ridiculous way she waved to everyone at the party. She looks like some kind of nervous thing unable to control the movement of her hand when she does that. I bet she thinks it looks cute.

It doesn’t. It just looks spastic, like a cheerleader who’s had too much sugar for the day.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were a runner!” she calls out in a chipper voice.

I nod, struggling to breathe normally. “Yep.”

She jogs in place as I make my way over to her, a polite thing to do for a nearly perfect stranger. When I reach her, I smile and bite out, “Thanks for waiting.”

“You seem new to this. I’m happy to take it slow for today. I’m pretty beat myself, so it’s like serendipity you’re my running partner for the morning,” she says without a hint of difficulty.

Damn. She really is in good shape. It doesn’t show so much in her body, which actually appears a little soft in her running outfit, but if she isn’t struggling in the least to speak while she runs, she must be in better shape than me.

I force a smile at her mention of us meeting up being serendipity. If she only knew.

As we set off down the road toward the next cul-de-sac, Stream Circle, she turns to look at me and says, “I tend to talk a lot while I run. Don’t mind me and don’t feel like you have to keep the conversation going. It’s just my way of passing the time. I hope you’re okay with that.”

That gets her another nod as my lungs begin to feel like my thighs did a few minutes ago. All that sitting around staring at my computer for hours on end really has made me completely out of shape.

Not that I want to talk to Sara as much as listen to what she has to say. Hopefully, she’s chatty about her life and not just benign nonsense like the weather.

“As long as you’re not bothered by me huffing and puffing over here,” I manage to say, sounding only slightly like someone about to collapse.

Giggling, she turns to face me and smiles. “It’s okay. We’ll take it slow. What made you want to start running?”

Before I can attempt to answer, she says, “Sorry. You’re already having a hard time, and here I am asking you questions you have to answer. I think I’ll just stick to my usual observations.”

I want to say I figured Jared would be in good shape and could answer her questions, but I stay quiet, listening to the sound of my blood pumping in my ears and hoping I can make it long enough today to learn something about her. This won’t be an entirely futile effort if I don’t, but I’d like her to start telling me things about herself.

We run in silence for a minute or so to the next cul-de-sac, Birch Circle, before she starts talking again. As I listen to her chatter on about the heatwave, I notice the homes in this area are older than those on my street, and it’s obvious in how weathered they look. I’m surprised no one around here seems to take as much pride in their houses as those of us on Park Circle do. I bet they don’t have monthly block parties either.

“You’re probably wondering why my usual running partner isn’t here this morning,” she says, and I glance over at her to see sadness in her eyes. “Jared and Suzanne broke up and she threw him out of the house, so he had to go stay at his brother’s in Norristown.”

Unsure what to say to that, I simply nod. Not that I could have an entire conversation right now. Even running at the slow speed we are, I’m nearly out of breath. I’d planned on doing this for a couple weeks to gain her trust, but at this rate, that plan might have to change. I might be dead from exhaustion if I have to keep this up for that long.

“You probably think I broke them up, but I’m not the only woman he’s been seeing, you know. Jared and Suzanne have been unhappy for a long time. I don’t know if you know that, but they have. She works a lot, so she’s never home. That makes a man’s eye begin to wander.”

While Sara excuses her behavior with a man cheating on his wife, I see another runner coming toward us. God, don’t let it be someone she knows who’ll want to run with us, or I’ll be stuck running without finding out a damn thing for my efforts.

As the person gets closer to us, I notice it’s a man I’m guessing is in his early fifties. A hint of gray at his temples makes me think he might be a little older, but he’s definitely not our age. His knees remind me of old-fashioned doorknobs they’re so bony, and with every step he takes, I worry one is going to pop they look so frail.

Sara does that freaky wave thing when he’s right in front of us. “Hey, Bob! Have a great run today!”

The man nods and replies, “You too, Sara. Get it in before the heat of the day sets in.”

It’s a meaningless exchange, but it does tell me people other than Jared seem to like her. Maybe I was too harsh in my initial judgment of her. Not that she’s a saint since she was sleeping with a married man, but maybe she’s not the trashy thing I thought she was.

I’m still going to kill her. That won’t change.

“That’s Bob. He works for Chase in the city. I think he’s some loan officer or something. He told me once, but we were running and that day I had the worst sprained ankle I ever had in my life,” she explains.

Slightly less out of breath, I say, “You ran on a sprained ankle. Wow.”

That makes her laugh, and she nudges my left arm with her elbow. “I run every day. Rain or shine. Sprained ankle or not. I might not run if my leg was broken, but until that happens, I’m out here at seven in the morning every day. It’s the only way I can get going before work.”

Now’s my chance to get her talking about herself.

“Do you work in the city like Bob?” I ask before taking a huge breath of humid air into my lungs.

She laughs at that too. “No. I cut hair at a salon a few miles down the road. That’s how I met Jared. He came in to get his hair cut, and the rest is history.”

Interesting way to describe their affair. I want to ask how long it went on for, but I don’t want to stop her from talking more.

We round the corner onto Sunset Lane, a street that leads to an area of the housing development where there aren’t any more culs-de-sac but just straight streets laid out in a grid pattern. I haven’t spent much time up here, but Sara seems well-acquainted with the area.

I study the houses and see they’re much older than those on my cul-de-sac. It isn’t the weathered look that gives that away but the style of the homes. Instead of the newer look of the houses on Park Circle, these are bi-levels and split levels popular in the seventies.

“You know, this might be the first time I’m over in this part of the development,” I say nearly breathlessly.

“This is the way I run every day. It’s almost like going back in time. If you run far enough, you can find homes built a hundred years ago. I thought about getting a house over here, but I got a great deal on mine, so I jumped on it. Well, my husband and I did, but when it was time to move in, he bailed. Guess he wasn’t ready for a mortgage.”

Barely able to groan out any words, all I say is, “Oh.” I want to ask if she’s divorced now, but if I try to do that, I might collapse.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I didn’t need him anyway. Same with Jared. Guys come and go. It’s the way it is.”

Sure my face shows my surprise that she’s basically written good old Jared off already, I turn my head as if I’m looking at one of the split level homes. Maybe he was only exciting when he was cheating, and now that he’s free to go with any woman he wants, he’s no longer tempting.

Not that I understand what Suzanne or Sara saw in him. And he’s got a third woman? When does that guy have time for work and sleep?

“Probably the best way to think about it. People come and go. You just have to live your life.”

I doubt I’ve ever sounded so philosophical. It’s probably the lack of oxygen to my brain. Who knew running would make me so Zen?

Sara breaks her promise not to ask me any more questions and says, “So what do you do? It must be a pretty good job since Park Circle is the swankiest neighborhood in this development.”

A car backs out of a driveway a few yards ahead of us and gives me the chance to stop and catch my breath. Sara continues to jog in place, truly committed to this running thing. Bent over, I take a giant gasp of air in and wish the humidity wasn’t already oppressive at only quarter after seven in the damn morning.

When I finally feel like I’m not going to black out, I stand up straight and answer her question. “I’m a human resources consultant.”

Not exactly an in-depth explanation of my job, but considering I think I might have nearly died for a moment or two when I was bent over, that’s the best she’s going to get from me. I’m never that chatty about my job anyway, so it’s not like I would ever describe it much more than that.

“Oh, that’s sounds interesting. Are you okay, Adam? You look a little flushed.”

All I can think of when she says that is I feel flushed, like someone stuffed me down the toilet and sent me through the sewer pipes. Clearly, I’m going to have to seriously consider if this is how I want to get to know Sara.

“It’s the humidity, I think,” I answer lamely. “It’s making my breathing difficult.”

In a kind gesture I didn’t expect, she puts her hand on my shoulder and smiles. “It can be rough on days like this. Don’t give up, though, okay? Running is great exercise.”

“I won’t. Thanks.”

A sheepish look washes over her. “You won’t mind if I continue on? I have to be at work by nine, and if I don’t get moving, I won’t get any real run in today. You’re going to be okay getting back?”

Feeling like some lightweight, I wave off her concern. “Oh, yeah. I’ll be fine. I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, her expression brightens. Nodding, she pats me on the shoulder again. “Absolutely! I’m so glad you’re going to keep at it. See you tomorrow!”

Sara takes off down the road, turning around when she’s about hundred yards away to wave at me. “Drink lots of water! That will do the trick! See you tomorrow morning, Adam!”

I wave back, barely able to lift my arm but needing to appear like I’m fine. Something tells me as bad as this was today, running tomorrow is going to be even worse, and water isn’t going to help me as much as I need.

But at least I have her address and some details about her now. I just have to suffer through a few more of these morning torture sessions before I can carry out my plan.