The Sunset Witness

by Hayes, Gayle

  "Maybe you should call her and suggest going to Hoquarten on Saturday. Tell her you're anxious to see the town and her new digs. Then you can clear the air and get on with your friendship," Detective Gannon said.

  "What about the killer who's still on the loose in Sunset?" I asked.

  "He'll slip up eventually, and we'll arrest him," Detective Gannon said.

  The detective went outside to take a call. I called Sarah. I left a message that I was going to Hoquarten on Saturday and would arrive early so we could have lunch and she could show me around before I had to work at Twyla's that evening.

  When the evidence tech finished, I shook hands with Detective Gannon and then went back inside, locking the door behind me. I needed to spend a few minutes in the house alone before I could tell if I'd be able to stay. I sat in the chair in front of my laptop and looked at the view of the ocean. Finally, I was doing what I wanted to do with my life instead of trying to please my father. I'd worked hard in Arizona and now I had a job at Twyla's. I deserved to have my dream. The detective was probably right. Whoever threatened Sarah would realize she was gone. He wasn't interested in harming me. Giving in to my imagination and fear would ruin the opportunity of a lifetime.

  When I arrived at Frank's house, he and Dennis were coming back from lunch at the diner. I apologized to Frank and asked if he would accept a rain check for lunch another day. I told him I appreciated staying with him the night before, but I needed to go back to the beach house. He said something about getting back on the horse after a fall, and I went inside his house to get my things together. Dennis insisted on giving me a ride. After he set my bag on the porch, I had the feeling he wanted to tell me something. Instead, he said he was glad to help. He got back into his Buick and headed for Main Street.

  After unpacking again, I ate the last of the cereal and milk while sitting on the porch so I'd be visible as Detective Gannon suggested. As long as I was going to Hoquarten on Saturday, I'd get groceries then. In the meantime, I'd finish whatever Sarah left behind.

  My parents hadn't taught me to be frugal. My father was born in 1929 after the crash. My mother was born December 7, 1941. Neither of them was old enough to remember the deprivations of the depression or rationing during the war. However, both came from homes where their parents did know about deprivation and found it difficult to part with a dollar. Spending on the necessities was one thing, but being comfortable was out of the question. While my parents did not throw money away, they believed in having nice things and required more comforts than my grandparents.

  My father left me a portfolio, and it had not been plundered by the movers and shakers on Wall Street. However, I knew things did not make my parents happy. I also was keenly aware my mother endured a marriage that literally drove her to drink because she was not able to live independently of my father. I made up my mind very early to guarantee my independence by having a skill and to find the happiness that eluded my parents by living simply. I like to think I have the best of both worlds. I can afford whatever I want, but I want very little.

  I was anxious to start working on an idea I had for my novel, but I preferred to write early in the day. I'd need a larger block of time. Once I was on my way, I'd be able to write in spurts. For now, I'd fill the time before I reported to Twyla's by finding a place for my few decorations.

  The first memento I unwrapped was a music box with Beauty and the Beast dancing to the theme from Disney's classic. I didn't enjoy that Disney animation more than any other, but it was the only time my father took me to the movies. I was ten. Years later, I learned my mother had a miscarriage. My father tried to distract me and give my mother a little space. I asked Santa for the music box, and it traveled with me to Montana, back to Philadelphia, to Arizona, and to Sunset. I could have had a music box with Belle and the prince, but I wanted Belle and the Beast. Even then, I hoped I could change my father by loving him enough. I put the music box next to the bed, so I could listen to it while falling asleep.

  I'd marked NR on the outer layer of paper covering a photo to remind me not to remove the paper if Sarah was around. Nate Russell and I were in our swimsuits at Lolo Hot Springs outside of Missoula, where we were freshmen at the University of Montana. Nate's sandy, mid-length hair fell around his face. He hadn't shaved that morning. His smile showed his perfect teeth and created laugh lines that drew my attention to his incredible, blue eyes. When we first met, I thought we were exactly the same except for our eye color. Whatever he liked, I liked. Whatever I disliked, he disliked. I'd found my soul mate. I remembered reading you don't need to look for love. It will find you. I found this to be true more than once. My relationship with Nate was perfect except he'd met Sarah first, and she was in love with him, too. I put the photo on the bookshelf closest to the window where I'd be writing my novel. Perhaps, it would help me remember how it felt to be in love.

  The music box and photo had triggered memories that carried me away for more than an hour. I realized I needed to shower and dress so I'd be at work on time. As I stepped under the shower spray, I heard my phone. I hoped to talk to Sarah before I drove to Hoquarten. It had occurred to me after I left my message that she might have preferred I come another time. I almost shut off the shower, but I decided, instead, to let the call go to message.

  When I checked the phone, there was a message from Joel. He said an old friend was in town and looking for something to do. Joel suggested I could join him, Breanna, and Michael on Saturday to see the sights around Sunset. He didn't know how much time there would be that night to discuss it, so he wanted to give me a heads up. I could let him know later if I was interested.

  I called Joel and told him I planned on driving to Hoquarten on Saturday to see Sarah. Joel said he'd try to reschedule something planned for Sunday. It would be a better day for us to show Michael around, because Twyla always closed the restaurant on Sunday. I was less interested in meeting Michael than I was in staying friends with Joel. My job at Twyla's was important to me. Joel was in a position to help me either succeed or fail.

  Before I left for work, I took a few minutes to clean the window on the door. The window wasn't very dirty, but I wanted to spend some time outside by the house to make myself visible.

  Thursday evening was slow at Twyla's. Joel's tables filled as usual, but mine never did. Sarah had not done her routine cleaning of the kitchen before she left. Joel showed me what had to be done, and I stayed occupied, if not busy, all evening. After the last customers left, Joel asked if I had any questions about Michael. I told him I wanted to be sure he was unattached. I always felt phony asking a date questions when I already knew the answers. That might be good policy with a witness during a trial, but I liked being surprised by my dates.

  I didn't want anyone at Twyla's to know about the intruder at my beach house. It was never easy to be the new person on a job, and having issues from the start would not help. I was certain no one would bother me again. I was not leaving the key under the loose brick anymore. I planned to wash my car at home on Friday for the benefit of anyone watching.

  Parking was minimal at Twyla's and it was close, so I walked to work. Even the locals walked to and from the restaurant. However, I was looking over my shoulder all the way home.

  Fortunately, the light in the parking lot had been replaced and was functioning. I'd left all the lights on and closed the blinds before I left, so the house would appear to be occupied. Still, I was nervous turning the key in the door. This time I looked at the mural first. It was unchanged. I went to the closet while walking sideways so I could see the bedroom screen and bathroom. I flung the door open and stepped back so someone could not jump out and grab me. Then I looked behind the screen. I'd left the shower curtain pushed to one side, so I could see no one was hiding there.

  I hung my clothes in the closet and changed into my pajamas. Then I checked my email and Facebook page and brought this journal up to date. That had been my routine before I arrived in Sunset, but the events of the pr
evious two days had changed my routine. I deleted most of the emails because I'd already received them on my phone. I'd not posted on Facebook since before I arrived in Sunset. I read the News Feed, commented on posts of a few friends, and went to Sarah's page. Her last post was on the previous Friday when she said she'd worked her last shift and had an impressive array of boxes for her move. I posted I'd moved to Oregon, liked my new job, and was about to start my first novel.

  After I removed Sarah's sheets from the bed, I replaced them with the ones I'd used Tuesday night. I folded her sheets so she could use them on the futon if she stayed with me before I found time to do the laundry. I put her sheets and pillow on the top shelf of the closet and left a lamp on in the living room.

  Although I'd been too preoccupied with the fear that gripped me after discovering the knife in the mural to be concerned about a tsunami, the surf outside my window reminded me to have an evacuation plan. I knew I'd be rattled if I woke up in the middle of the night for an emergency. I already had a bottle of water and granola bars in my backpack. I added a change of underwear, pair of shorts, t-shirt, flashlight and my glasses. I usually wore contact lenses, but I'd not take time for them in an emergency. My mother's wedding ring was in a small box in the bottom of the backpack. I made sure my phone and flash drive were in my purse. Then I placed it and my tennis shoes right next to the backpack so I could grab both if I was half asleep.

  I lay in bed looking at the ceiling and thinking. The state had done an impressive job of educating tourists about tsunamis. I knew a tsunami off the coast of Oregon was a very real possibility in the event of an earthquake. There would be no time for a warning. An earthquake farther away would cause a warning siren to sound. I'd have more time to evacuate. In the first instance, I'd travel on foot and get to the top of the hill above Sunset as quickly as possible. If I heard the siren, I'd get into my car and try to beat a traffic jam out of town and toward the lighthouse. I dreaded waking to a siren almost as much as waking to an earthquake. What terrified me most was a fear of drowning.

  Friday, June 3, 2011

  Friday morning I booted my laptop and found an email from Sarah. She thought it was a great idea for me to drive to Hoquarten instead of her coming to Sunset. She would be up early unpacking. I could get there whenever I wanted. I was encouraged to hear from her and then realized she'd not included directions to her house. I found the address she'd given me over the phone before I left Arizona. Then I searched Google Maps for directions from the beach house to the address she gave me. No directions were available. I assumed she must be living in a new area of Hoquarten, and it was not picked up by the satellite yet. I replied to her email and asked for directions from Sunset.

  I'd awoken early that morning and decided to start plotting my novel. I knew it was a good idea for a first-time author to write about familiar places, people, and events. I'd set the novel in Philadelphia but would not use Villanova. When I studied ballet, I made friends with a girl from Gladwyne, so I used her neighborhood. I'd write about two friends who are inseparable until a new family moves in and both girls are attracted to the same boy. I began my novel by describing the area where Rachel and Sarah grew up. I'd change our names with the Find and Replace feature once I'd told our story. My theme was love is powerful, destroys everything in its path, and is, ultimately, self-destructive. I had to research Gladwyne online for some of the details I'd forgotten, so setting the scene took most of the morning.

  After lunch, I took the canister vacuum from the closet and cleaned the interior of my car. Nate was always fastidious about his car. He wiped the dash and doors with a tac rag, which is used to trap dust before painting or staining. I picked up the idea and always had a tac rag in my car. Sometimes I'd use it while I sat through several red lights in traffic. Once I had the interior clean, I rolled up the windows and sprayed water on the car from top to bottom. Then I added a few drops of dishwashing liquid to a bucket and filled it with water. I dipped my microfiber car wash mitt into the soapy water and began washing the car from the roof to the hood to the trunk lid, and then I washed the sides. It was a cloudy day and perfect for washing the car. I was able to hose off the soap and use my chamois to dry the surface instead of the sun drying it too quickly. The wash job took the better part of an hour, so I hoped if anyone was checking out the house for Sarah's presence, he'd be satisfied she was no longer there.

  After I was finished with the car, I took a shower and dressed for my job at Twyla's. I liked not having to spend time deciding what I'd wear each day. The bun simplified what to do with my hair. I did spend time with my makeup so I'd look polished and professional. Jewelry was limited to a pair of pearl earrings. Dangly necklaces and bracelets were a hazard in the kitchen and annoying to some customers, so they were taboo.

  I called Frank to let him know I was going shopping Saturday and to ask if he needed anything from Hoquarten. He thanked me and said Dennis had picked up a few things on Wednesday.

  I had an hour to spare, so I sat on the porch with a slightly worn copy of a Katharine Hepburn biography. I'd bought the book in Missoula at a book exchange and never got around to reading it. There were only a few books I carried from place to place. Now that I owned an eBook reader, I'd not collect more paperbacks.

  Various people told me I resembled Miss Hepburn. At one time, I considered changing my name to Kate. That was during my theatrical phase when I became various characters I'd seen in the movies. I saw the 1994 release of Little Women, but I preferred Miss Hepburn in the role of Jo. Her character inspired me to become a writer, too. I never actually wrote our plays down, but I did get my friends together to act out various dramas that were loosely based upon what I'd seen at the movies the weekend before. I directed each friend in the way she should act and told everyone what to say. We had an extensive wardrobe department, because my mother discarded a third of her closet routinely. Looking back, I think my friends put up with my bossiness because they enjoyed dressing up.

  Twyla's was busy Friday evening. Although Joel knew most of the people who sat at his tables, no one looked familiar to me. Some of the clientele were very much like the restaurant itself…rough on the outside and classy on the inside. Guest attire ranged from grungy to elegant. However, only one couple preferred to get a cheeseburger and fries at the diner. Most of the diners had read the menu selections outside and knew what to expect. The portions were not large, but they were expertly prepared and Twyla made sure the ingredients were fresh.

  My favorite customer was a middle-aged lady who sat at one of my tables alone. She wore a long, red gingham dress with puff sleeves and a flared skirt, western boots, and a wide-brimmed straw hat. Unlike so many single diners, she did not read a book while she ate. She did not even seem to notice the ocean. When I looked her way, her eyes would be closed as she held each morsel in her mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Watching her eat was like watching someone pray before a shrine. She adored the food and left a generous contribution to my tips.

  As we were closing, I noticed someone new near the bakery counter at the front. He was a little taller than I, with dark hair that was shorter and combed back on the sides and a little fuller on top with a few stray strands falling on his high forehead. He had stunning blue eyes deeply set under strong brows and a disarming smile. He was dressed head to toe in black. He was either a gangster or an agent of the FBI. He was too full of himself to be a missionary. I heard Breanna tell him Joel would be out in a minute. I knew this must be Michael. I was not surprised when Joel brought him over to the table I was clearing and introduced us. I felt my face flush when Michael Archer reached for my hand and bent slightly to kiss it. He seemed to have stepped from another era. Before he left with Joel, he said he would look forward to seeing me on Sunday.

  I'd not been in love since Nate. I did not expect to fall in love again. After meeting Michael, I knew only the most serious character flaw would keep me from falling in love with him.

  Saturday, June 4, 2011
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  By the time I left Sunset on Saturday, I still did not have an email or a phone call from Sarah. She'd always been a procrastinator, but I found it especially annoying then. It was a lovely morning for a drive, so I tried to focus on that instead. I took a right at the junction and drove along the coast for a few miles before turning inland. I found the grocery Frank had mentioned a short distance from Sunset. There were some serious potholes in the highway, so I was not surprised road repairs were planned. The highway cut through the rainforest before it opened up into farmland. Dairy cows and dairies were plentiful. It took only a half hour for me to arrive at the outskirts of Hoquarten. I was mystified about Sarah's use of the winding road above Sunset. It took twice as long each way. She must have known about the shorter route.

  As I waited for my car to fill with gas, I asked the attendant if he could tell me how to get to Orchard Avenue. He pointed to the east and told me to stay on the street I was on. He said it would curve to the right and Orchard Avenue would be on the left. He was not sure about house numbers. I followed his directions until I came to Orchard Avenue. The first quarter mile was farmland. Then homes lined both sides of the street, but the numbers were wrong. I stopped in front of a yard where someone was mowing the lawn. I told the man I was looking for an address. He said there was no such number on Orchard Avenue. I started walking to my car and then turned around.

  I walked back to the man who was hosing off his lawn mower. He shut off the hose and looked at me as if I were selling something and he already had too many. I asked if he knew of anyone named Sarah who lived on Orchard. I described her. He was sure no single women lived on the street. There was a young blonde woman who lived in the stucco house two doors down. I walked to the house and knocked on the door. A teenager hollered “mom” and glared at me. His mother was blonde, but she was not Sarah. I apologized for bothering her and left.