Page 15

Story: The Neighbor

14

Even before my eyes are open, I know something’s wrong. I can feel it in my bones. My mind is slow to come around this morning, but when it does, I know what’s happening.

They found Sara.

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling as I strain to listen for the sound of sirens. I think I dreamed of an ambulance as I slept, but now I know the truth.

That was no dream. Someone called the police, and they found her dead on her couch, beaten to a pulp by her ex-boyfriend.

As I slowly wake up, my mind begins to race. Who called? Why? Then a horrible question comes to me. What time is it?

I frantically reach for my phone to see if it’s after seven. If so, then I need an excuse why I didn’t wake up like I have every other morning this week to go on a run. The police will want to know.

Holding my phone up in front of my face, I look through bleary eyes to see it’s not even six-thirty yet. That gives me time to get ready and appear at the end of the street like I’m ready to run this morning.

The next nearly half hour goes by in a blur as I try to keep calm and get ready to leave. Dressed in my running shorts and a black T-shirt, I walk outside into the humid morning air, making sure to lock my door behind me before I begin to make my way toward the spot where I usually meet Sara.

Halfway down the block, Kimmy comes running out of her house in a yellow sundress and practically tackles me. Blocking my way, she grabs my hands and holds them tightly, shaking her head the entire time.

“Oh my God! You haven’t heard! I know you’ve been running with that Sara woman every morning, so I guess you wouldn’t know yet.”

I try to put on my best confused face as I ask, “Know what? What’s going on?”

She shakes her head sadly, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry, Adam. They found her dead in the middle of the night. Someone had beat her to death. How horrible!”

My mouth drops open as I pretend to be shocked. “Oh, no. How is that possible? This is such a safe neighborhood. Do they know who did it?”

I know that will give Kimmy her chance to gossip since she absolutely has an opinion on who the killer is by now. This is the town crier here. Of course, she has an idea about who killed Sara.

“No, I don’t think so, but I think they should be looking at Jared. Suzanne told me before she left for work this morning that he was furious yesterday. I guess Sara was blackmailing him or something. I don’t know all the details, but if he was that angry with her, I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt her. The guy’s no good. I’m so happy Suzanne threw him out and he’s gone from our safe little neighborhood.”

As I struggle to keep the smile from my face at hearing Jared’s scorned wife is dropping enough hints to make anyone think he’s guilty of something, Kimmy gives my hands a sympathetic squeeze. She really is torn up about this.

“I was going to check on her this morning after I went on my run since she hurt her ankle yesterday and I had to help her back to her house. God, this is so terrible. How is everyone else around here taking the news?”

Kimmy leans in toward me as if she wants to tell me a secret and whispers, “Marilyn is very upset, and Harold isn’t even going fishing today.”

Well, that must mean this is a horrible tragedy if Harold is forgoing his daily drinking out on the boat. I do my best to hide my feelings about that as I say, “Oh, that’s just awful. This looks like such a safe place on the outside, but I guess you never know.”

Horrified, Kimmy’s eyes open wide. “Don’t say that! We love our little neighborhood here. We can’t let something like this ruin it.”

Something like this. She can’t even bring herself to say someone was murdered in cold blood. What an odd creature she is.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caroline hurry toward us. Kimmy drops my hands and rushes to her to grab her hands like she did mine.

“Did you hear?”

Caroline nods somberly. “I just saw it on the morning news. Who could do such a thing?”

The two women sigh as they try to figure out why anyone would kill Sara. It seems obvious to me, but I have to remain silent and pretend I’m merely horrified by this turn of events.

“And you were going to meet up with her for a run this morning, weren’t you?” Caroline asks me in a sad voice.

I shake my head, happy to mention her injury again. “No. She sprained her ankle on our run yesterday, but I was going to stop over after I finished today and see if she needed anything.”

A police car turns the corner and heads directly toward us. Kimmy turns around to watch it and then looks at the two of us in horror. “Oh, God! I need to put on some decent clothes. I can’t speak to the police like this.”

And with that, she sprints away into her house, leaving the two of us standing on the road as the cops drive up. A heavy-set officer slowly gets out of the car and walks up to us looking very serious.

“Good morning. I’m Officer Mankin. I’m looking for anyone who may have heard anything on the next street over between the hours of seven and ten last night. One of your neighbors, Sara Nottingham, was killed in her house. Did either of you see or hear anything?”

Caroline shakes her head and answers, “No, officer. Adam and I heard nothing. We were in my kitchen talking during that time, but we didn’t hear or see a thing.”

I stand there stunned that she just lied to the police about my being at her house during the time of the murder. Why would she do that?

The officer turns to look at me and asks, “You didn’t hear or see anything either?”

Nodding, I try to keep my composure as curiosity about why Caroline provided me an alibi fills me. “Yes, that’s true, officer. We didn’t hear a thing.”

He takes out a notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and flips to a fresh page before looking up at us. “What are your names and addresses?”

After we answer his question, he says, “We have reports that the victim was seeing one of your neighbors romantically. A married man whose wife was none too happy to find out about their relationship the other day at your neighborhood party. Is that true? Was there an altercation between them recently?”

Caroline and I look at each other and then the officer. A sheepish look comes over her as she nods and answers, “Yes, but Suzanne had every right to be angry. Her husband brought his mistress to our block party knowing she’d be there too. It was all very messy, and yes, there was a little fight, but that was it.”

The man hums as she explains what happened at the Dog Days of Summer party and then flips back a few pages in his notebook. “This man is named Jared Meyers, yes?”

“Yes,” she answers.

I’m happy she’s so willing to do the talking because I have no interest in getting involved in any of this mess. The officer asks her about Jared, and the whole time she’s telling him about how he moved out and he hasn’t been seen in the neighborhood since the day of the party, all I can think of is how viciously he beat the hell out of Sara.

Lost in my memory of that horrible scene, I don’t hear the police officer ask me a question. Caroline taps me on the forearm to get my attention, and I see the two of them staring at me.

“I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?”

The man nods, grimacing like my lack of attention bothers him. “Yes. I asked if you have seen Jared Meyers since the day of the party.”

I quickly shake my head. “No. He and I aren’t friends or anything, but I haven’t seen any hint of him here since then. I haven’t seen his car either.”

Flipping the cover of his notebook over to hide his notes, Officer Mankin twists his face into an ugly expression of disgust and sighs. “Fine. We very well may have more questions later as the investigation continues. Just as a precaution, I’m reminding everyone to lock their doors, especially at night. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thanks, officer. We will,” Caroline says sweetly before he walks away and gets into his car, leaving us standing in the street.

We watch him drive away, and then she turns to look at me. “This is terrible. I can’t believe someone killed her.”

“Why did you tell him I was at your house last night?”

A look of worry washes over her, and she draws her eyebrows in toward her nose as she answers, “You’re a single man in this neighborhood. Trust me. You needed an alibi. If you didn’t have one, you would be number two on their list behind good old Jared since you and Sara had started running together just the other day. It seemed like the neighborly thing to do.”

I don’t know what to say to that. She has no idea who I really am and what I’m capable of. There’s being neighborly and then there’s sticking your neck out and lying to the police for someone who’s little more than a stranger.

She’s going to regret that mistake.

Pasting a smile on my face, I say what I know I have to. “Thank you. I guess I owe you.”

She surprises me when she replies with a grin, “I guess you do. I’ll consider your debt paid in full if you come to my house and enjoy a cup of coffee. How’s that sound?”

Ordinarily when women hit on me, I dismiss it as a distraction I don’t need, but Caroline is different. I’ve gone back and forth on whether or not I want to kill her. But unlike Sara and the others, I haven’t been able to justify it to myself. That’s important. If I can’t feel like she deserves it in some way, I can’t do it. There are dozens of women I’ve met in my life who have no idea how lucky they are that I could never find a valid reason to kill them, or they’d be as dead as Sara over on the next street.

I nod my agreement to her terms and follow her to her house as more of our neighbors come out of their homes on this sultry summer day. The heat wave clearly isn’t going to break today, so coffee isn’t really something I want this morning, but I can’t help but take her up on her offer. I’ve been curious about this woman since the day she moved in. There’s no way I’m going to turn down a chance to get to know her better.

When we reach her porch, she points at the wicker table and chair set and says, “I’ll be right back. Do you take cream and sugar in your coffee or how do you like it?”

My stomach practically turns at the thought of all of that at this moment, so I shake my head and answer, “I’d prefer a water, if that’s okay. It’s a little balmy out for coffee drinking.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “It’s not a problem. You’re clearly not a caffeine junkie like me. It could be triple digits out and I’d want my coffee. Be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

I can’t help but notice she doesn’t invite me into her house yet again. Sure, it’s not the heat of the day yet, but why doesn’t she ever ask me inside?

As I mull that over, I watch Marilyn walk to the middle of the street to talk to Kimmy, who’s changed into a pair of jean shorts and a tank top with big yellow flowers on the front. It has the effect of making her look even more matronly than usual. Noticeably absent this morning are the three boys and the baby. Since it’s a weekday, I’d expect them to be following right behind.

Perhaps in all the excitement, Tim decided to take the day off.

Caroline returns with a bottle of water and hands it to me. It’s ice cold against my palm and feels more refreshing than anything I’ve had in days.

“I don’t know how people who don’t drink coffee get up every morning, much less make it through the day. What’s your secret?” she asks as she sits down in the wicker chair on the other side of the table with her mug of steaming hot coffee.

“Clean living?” I say with a chuckle.

“Is that what the sudden interest in running is?” she asks pointedly.

I’m surprised by her question but take my time answering, enjoying a gulp of cold water first before I say, “How do you know I’m not a runner from a long time ago who’s just getting into it again?”

She arches a single eyebrow and smiles. “I wasn’t getting that feeling, but okay. Fair enough.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes as Kimmy and Marilyn talk in the middle of the street. I wonder why they don’t go to one of their houses where it has to be more comfortable than standing out in the hot sun beaming down on them. Do the women in this neighborhood have something against air conditioning? First Caroline and now those two. I can’t figure them out.

“Why didn’t you mention my running with Sara to the cops?”

Caroline shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. “It didn’t come up. It wasn’t a lie. He never asked about it.”

“I’m sure they’ll find out. Someone is bound to tell them,” I say, hating the idea of having to deal with the cops.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I gave you an alibi for the time of the murder, so they’re going to think of that first. I just hope they find the person who did this.”

“Most murderers don’t get caught, you know. TV and movies make it seem like very few killers get away with their crimes, but that’s not true.”

I know from experience how difficult it is to be caught. That doesn’t mean the police won’t find out Jared did it. He’s an obvious suspect since he was cheating on his wife with Sara, but even more, the amount of blood that came out of her when he attacked her leaves traces no matter how much he cleaned up.

Caroline sighs and takes another drink of coffee. “I think I knew that, but it’s just so hard to accept that a killer could get away with murder.”

She’s lost someone. I get that sense very clearly by the sadness that’s crept into her voice. Was it because of a crime? Did someone murder one of her family members, or was it a friend who died?

I consider asking but decide against it. Instead, I file that detail away with all the others I know about Caroline Townsend. I’ll find out who she lost sometime.

She’ll tell me.