by Mary Mantle
I nodded. The groundbreaking piece of information hadn't come.
Luda got up to go get some tea and said, "I saw the mechanic who did lots of their repair work go to their house often. I know Gary had lots of cars, so maybe it was nothing. I can't remember why, but something seemed funny about some of his visits. Once I swore he was wearing a suit or something."
"From what I can tell, Gary was a car guy, so maybe they invited him out to a party at their house."
"It could have been, but I can't remember all the details, but I felt like Gary was out of town on a business trip."
I felt the blood pumping in my veins. "Really? Maybe there is something there. I think I will take my car down to him to see how much the repairs will cost. Thanks for the tea."
"Thank you for coming up."
On the drive down to Jose's shop, I needed to formulate a plan. So far, I had been flying by the seat of my pants, and it hadn't worked out that good. Jose could take a look at my car and give me a price quote, and I'd have a chance to pry some information out of him.
12
Second Visit to Jose
I pulled up to the office at Oregon Coast Car Export. The car's damage didn't seem to be too bad, but I wanted to get an idea of how much it would cost to fix. Time would be tight. I had to get home for a piano lesson by 4:15.
Jose was inside behind the counter when I walked in. He looked up and said, "You again?"
"Yep, I'm back. I wrecked my car and wanted to see how much it would cost to fix it."
He looked at his watch. "Okay, let's have a quick look. I don't have a lot of time."
We walked out into the parking lot, and I said, "It is on the front right bumper; I drove into a rock."
"Yeah, you did." He crouched down and felt the damage on the bumper, and he then laid down on the ground and felt around underneath it.
He got up and said, "Come in, and I will look up a few parts. It looks like it is just the bumper, but since it isn't metal, you'd need to buy a new one."
Back inside, Jose punched some keys on the computer. "Looks like a new bumper would be 175 bucks, plus installation, so you looking around 500 to 700 bucks, but I would need to map it out a bit further."
"Okay, well, I will need to think about it."
It was the moment of truth. I had new information about Jose going out to the Hollister house dressed in a suit.
I asked, "How well did you know the Hollisters?"
"What?"
"Just curious if you only worked on his car or if you guys were friends too."
He shuffled some papers around the desk and said, "I wouldn't say we were friends, but I went out there a few times. Once or twice."
"Did you know Kitty at all? Or was it Gary that you were friends with?"
He glanced at his watch and said, "Come on, what do you want?"
"I'm just trying to get a picture of their life."
"Look, lady. The guy had lots of cars I worked on for him. He loved cars, and that meant he liked me because I fixed them. Lots of custom work restoring old cars. A few times when he had parties at his house, he invited me. I was a fish out of water. There I was in a suit and tie, which I never wear. He liked me out there to show off to his friends because I had more knowledge of the cars, and I could impress his buddies. I'm not sure I even talked to the wife. Maybe said hello."
I processed that for a minute. "Did you ever see anything weird or strange out there? Take a second to think about it."
Jose closed his eyes. I glanced around the office. Behind the counter was a calendar with a girl in a bikini on it. He opened his eyes and said, "Now that I think about it. It seemed like the wife disappeared most of the night. I remember because Gary asked if anyone had seen her, which isn't that strange, but it seemed like something bothered him. I saw it in his face. I remember a big guy who seemed to be gone around the same time."
"Was it Mr. Thompson?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it, I think it was."
Everything seemed to be sliding into place. Something was going on between Kitty and Mr. Thompson, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I only had one problem, how the heck was I going to do that?
As I walked toward the door Jose asked, "Hey, do you want me to give you an official quote?"
"I will come back. Thanks."
In my car, my heart pumped, and my mind raced. I needed to get an inside scoop on what the police were up to. I pulled out my cell phone and called Faith.
She answered after one ring.
"Hey, Tatiana. What's up?"
"Checking to see if you still want to have the lesson on Tuesday next week. We could move it to Monday if it works better for you?"
A moment went by; she probably weighed the decision.
"Okay, sure. Monday is fine."
"Perfect. Have you been busy down at the station?"
Through the phone, I heard a loud sigh. "You can say that again. However, things are starting to cool down after the Hollister case."
"Are they looking for someone?"
"No, they think it was an accident, and the Chief and the District Attorney have signed off on it."
"I guess that is good. Means there isn't a killer out there."
Faith laughed, "I love them all, but the Chief couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag."
I didn't understand what she said, but I thought she was making fun of the Chief. I laughed along.
I said, "Okay, we will see you on Monday."
I hung up before she could extend the conversation. A text message pinged on my phone. It was the mother of my Friday piano student; I was late.
It was a miracle, but I managed to navigate through town, not get pulled over, and make it home in record time.
We have a smart lock on our front door, so I texted the mom a code to go inside. I opened the garage door and parked my car. I heard the sound of the piano; the daughter was practicing.
As I walked into the living room, I said, "Sorry, I'm late."
The mom was short, with a bright smile. She said, "Don't worry about it."
"Thanks." I walked to the piano. Abby, the 8-year-old student with sandy blonde hair, turned around.
"Hello, Abby. You can keep playing."
She had been taking lessons for about two months. Her progress had been slow, and I guessed that she didn't practice much. People can improve with lessons, but to get better, the students need to practice at home. I was almost sure her fingers didn't touch the ivory on the piano at her house much, if at all, but Mom was proud and thought her daughter was the next Mozart.
13
Sally Hollister
Saturday couldn't come fast enough. I woke up, rolled over, and saw Tanner smiling at me.
"Goooood morning," Tanner said.
Tanner was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He has always been a morning person, me, on the other hand, mornings have never been my strong suit. We kissed.
It was a struggle, but I said, "Good morning."
"What are you doing today, sleepyhead?" Tanner asked.
"I have to play piano out at the Pacific View Retirement Home."
"Well, I'll go make breakfast."
Tanner got out of bed, put on his robe, and headed for the kitchen. I stayed in bed and looked out the window, watching a few crows flying to the top of a pine tree.
I drove out to the Pacific View Retirement Home. It is a five-story apartment complex for people that need assisted living and rests on a bluff that is fifty feet above the Pacific Ocean. I could hear the rumble of the ocean in the background. The building had a fresh, light gray paint job.
I checked in at the front desk. It had a big open lobby area that had a piano and a few dozen chairs. A few residents that were in their 70s and 80s were waiting for me.
The stack of piano notes I carried got heavy, so I set them down on top of the stand-up piano. The piano looked to be in good shape, so that was nice.
"Hello, my name is Tatiana Johnson, and I will be play
ing some classical music for you today. I will start with some Beethoven and Mozart and then work my way into some Russian composers. I would like to go around the room and introduce myself real quick."
One lady sat on her walker and looked to be dozing off. There were about a dozen residents scattered around the room. One by one, I introduced myself. I hoped that Gary Hollister's mom was one of them. I realized that if they didn't say her full name or if she changed her last name back to her maiden name, I might not even know it was her.
There was a lady with fierce eyes that reminded me of Gary Hollister. She had a white pair of New Balance running shoes, and to my surprise, they had mud all over them. She looked to be in her late 70s. I walked over and said, "Hello, I'm Tatiana Johnson."
I stuck my hand out to shake hers.
"I'm Sally Hollister," she said.
Bingo. I said, "Nice to meet you, ma'am." I hope I didn't sound too excited because I struck the jackpot. With little time to talk before I played my concert, I had to save my questions for afterward.
I hurried around the room, finishing my introductions, so it didn't seem weird I stopped after talking to Sally. Adrenaline was pumping; I had the right person to talk to, now I had to hope that she didn't fall asleep or leave.
Focus. I focused on playing the best and most entertaining music I could. I even mixed in a few nostalgic Christmas songs, anything to keep her up and paying attention. Once in a while, I glanced to see if she was still there.
Soon I was at the end of my hour. I closed up my notes and put them in a stack on top of the piano.
I walked over to Sally and asked, "How did you like the concert?"
She shrugged her shoulders, "It was okay. Better than sitting in my room and watching TV."
I smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." She was going to be a tough cookie to crack. I had to think of something.
I said, "I realized you must be the mother of Gary. I'm so sorry to hear about the accident."
"It was no accident."
"Really?"
"Yes. It was that darn wife of his. I'm sure of it. She had it out for sweet ole' Gary for years."
"They didn't get along very well?"
She shook her head. "They fought like cats and dogs."
"How did Gary get along with his business partner Mr. Thompson?"
"Good at first, but then things soured. Every time Gary came to see me, which was about once a week, he complained about Mr. Thompson."
I glanced at my watch.
"Thank you. I better get going."
Before I could turn around and walk away, her hand jetted out and grabbed my arm. She said, "Why do you want to know so much about Gary?"
"I'm curious, and I'd like to find out the truth."
She laughed and said, "Be careful what you look for; you might not like what you find."
"Thanks. I appreciate you talking to me."
I left and went to my car. I called Hannah, and her phone went straight to voicemail. It had been several days, and I couldn't get a hold of her, which was weird. Hannah was about the easiest person to get ahold of on the planet. She almost always answered my calls.
My plan needed to get refined, and my search for the truth was getting closer, but it was a disaster when I tried to go out to the Hollister house last time.
I drove through downtown on my way home.
When I got home, Tanner was in the office working on a novel. He had been writing a book for about a year. He never wanted me to look at it, but I did. I was surprised that it was actually decent. It was a science fiction story about the first robot that flew on a plane by himself—the first self-sufficient robot and all the challenges that faced robot rights.
I popped my head into the office and said, "Hey, how is the novel going?"
"I've written a thousand words today, so not bad." We smiled at each other.
"Something smells good."
It smelled like some kind of meat and potatoes dish, with the meat marinated or seasoned.
Sure enough, once I was in the kitchen, I saw the fillet mignon, mashed potatoes, corn, and salad. I hadn't realized it until I saw the food, but I was starving. Tanner walked in behind me.
"Did you already eat?" I asked.
"Yep, I was hungry and wanted to make you lunch."
"Thank you; it smells delicious."
"How was the concert?"
"Good, it is a pretty nice retirement house. I met Gary Hollister's mom."
"That's not why you went out there, is it?"
I couldn't look Tanner in the eyes. My eyes were glued to the plate of food. I looked up and felt as guilty as a puppy that went to the bathroom in the house when it knew better. "Guilty as charged."
"Tatiana, you are playing with fire. If you keep this up, something is going to happen, and it won't be good."
"Doesn't it bother you that the police aren't doing anything?"
"Not really. I could care less. Some rich guy died."
"Well, if he was murdered, then that means that there is a murderer on the loose. That isn't good. Also, I don't want Hannah to lose her job."
"Hannah won't lose her job. You know how she is; everything is a big drama with her"
"You're right, but I'm kind of worried about her, and I'm going to go check."
I got up from the table and went to the kitchen. Tanner asked, "Should I go with you?"
"No, I think I'll be fine."
14
What happened to Hannah
I pulled up to Hannah's apartment, which was in a modern eight-story building. Her apartment was on the seventh floor, and you need a key card to get inside the building.
Hannah was a drama queen, but the fact that she wasn't picking up my calls or returning them, had me worried.
Since I didn't have a key to get in, I had to wait and coat-tail my way in the building. I didn't want to look suspicious, so I pulled my phone out and pretended to have a conversation, and for some reason, I talked about the stock market, which I know nothing about. It was a lovely apartment building, and most people would be concerned about a person coat-tailing. I happened to come to the apartment building at the slowest time of the day, and it was 10 minutes before anyone arrived. A man in his early 60s in workout clothes walked toward the front door. I kept my fake conversation going, and in the corner my eye, I saw that he swiped his key and opened the door. I slowly turned and went in as I kept my conversation going. He didn't give me a second glance.
I wasn't sure if I should keep talking in the lobby or ride up the elevator with him. The apartment building was big enough that tenants wouldn't recognize everyone. I decided to roll the dice and went to the elevator to see what floor he picked.
His hand punched the four, so I was in good shape. I pressed number seven. I smiled at the man; he smiled back. He got off on the fourth floor. On the seventh floor, the door opened, and I walked into the hallway, which had white walls and a thin blue carpet. I arrived at apartment 704, and before I had a chance to knock, I saw that the door was slightly open.
I took a step back with my heart racing. Why was Hannah's door open? I decided to walk down the hall back to the elevator to regroup. If something terrible happened there, I didn't want to walk into it. I called Tanner, and he didn't pick up until the sixth ring. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach.
Finally, Tanner answered and said, "What's up? Everything all right?"
"Tanner, I'm not sure, her door is open."
"Did you ring the doorbell?"
"No, I just saw that the door was open. I'm worried."
"I'll stay on the line. Go ring the doorbell, and we'll go from there."
With the phone next to my ear, I walked back toward the front door.
"Okay, I'm ringing the doorbell."
The doorbell rang; I heard nothing from inside. My anxiety shot up another level.
Tanner asked, "Any response?"
"Nothing."
"Maybe something is wrong. Go back to your car, and I'll come.
"
"No, I will go in the room, stay on the line."
"Tatiana, don't touch anything. If something happened, you don't want your fingerprints all over the place."
"I'm sure my fingerprints are all over her house. Don't talk. I'm walking into her apartment. Hannah, are you there? I'm walking down the hallway. I don't see anything out of place in the living room or kitchen. I'll check the bedroom."
My heart revved up like a race car. With my foot, I kicked open the door—no sign of Hannah.
"Nothing in the bedroom. The bathroom is the last place to check. Hannah? I'm opening the bathroom door now. I don't see her."
"You checked in the shower?"
"Of course."
"How about the closets?"
"Okay, I'll check the closets."
I checked, and there was nothing. I ended the call with Tanner and called the Police. They said they would send a few officers over.
Fifteen minutes later, I heard a man's voice shout, "Cedar Cove Police Department, we are coming in."
"I'm in the living room."
Two officers came into the room — an older man with a gray mustache and a younger officer that was unusually tall.
I suspected the older officer was in charge. He said, "Ma'am, are you the one that called us?"
"Yes, my friend is missing."
"How long has she been missing?"
"I called her last night and never heard back from her, but if you knew her, it isn't like her. I don't remember one time where she never called me back within an hour. I kept trying this morning and still nothing. That is when I got worried and came over. She would never leave her front door open."
The older officer pulled out a notebook and started writing. "So, as far as we know, she went missing last night?"
"It could have been longer. It has been a few days since I last saw or talked to her."
"We got all of the facts. So we can place the first sign of disappearance last night around 7 pm. Since it hasn't been 24 hours, we can't file a missing person report."