“I need to determine the balance first.” Katie smiled easily. There were no problems here.
“We’ll need your ID, please.”
Katie pulled her driver’s license out of her pocket and handed it to the teller. Hurry, Katie silently begged.
Bethany studied the picture and read the information. “The name on the account is different than the one on the driver’s license. The address isn’t the same, either.”
“The account is under my maiden name, Follings. I never got around to changing it.”
The teller nodded slightly and directed her to one of the desks in the lobby, “Angela will help you.”
Summarily dismissed, Katie had to do as she was told. She snatched one of Bethany’s cards.
Angela seemed friendly but spent five minutes grilling Katie and asking security questions. Dammit! I can’t afford a stall right now. Katie smiled sweetly and answered anyway, providing the supervisor her complete name, “Kathryn Anne Follings-Werner.”
Next, she rattled off her Social Security number, address, pin number, last deposit amount, favorite pet, and on and on it went until Angela was finally convinced of Katie’s identity. As Angela walked Katie back to the cashier, Katie snagged a few of Angela’s business cards, too.
Katie asked for a certified copy of her last statement. “I’m going to need it to show financial status.” She’d researched and learned certified reports could be used as identification.
After Bethany printed, signed, and date stamped each page, Katie handed her a withdrawal slip listing the entire amount of $5254.28. “I’ll be closing this account.”
At Bethany and Angela’s concerned looks, Katie announced, “I’m buying a car today. And moving! It’s been a crazy week. New job. New apartment. My friend from work…,” Katie gushed about the car, finding a bank closer to home, and on and on she went until their eyes glazed, and they handed over the money. She loaded several of the withdrawal envelopes with the cash and stuffed them down inside the plastic shopping bags. Katie forced herself not to run out the door.
Although it felt like days had passed, she’d left the medical complex less than an hour before. Katie needed to get settled quickly but couldn’t afford any mistakes. She made a deliberate left out of the bank, walked two full blocks, and crossed the street. She worked her way back to the Motel 6 she’d found on the internet and stood at the side of the building, taking in the angle from the bank. Deciding the security cameras weren’t aimed in her direction, she slipped inside.
The stale lobby was empty except for Katie and the desk clerk. He was college-aged and appeared to be doing homework. He looked up at Katie through long, dark hair.
“I need a room for the night.”
“Single or double?”
Katie hesitated until she understood he was referring to the beds and not occupants. “Uh, the single is fine.”
“All right. Then it will be seventy-five dollars and twenty-seven cents, with tax.”
Katie extracted cash from her front pocket.
He punched numbers into his calculator and asked her to sign the registration—something she hadn’t considered since she’d never purchased a motel room in her life. She signed as Patty Stanford, the first name which popped into her head.
Katie hoped the clerk wouldn’t ask for ID. If he did, she was prepared to open her plastic bags, search in her tote, and…what? She had no idea. Run?
Luckily, the motel employee didn’t ask. He handed over her change and the key and never made eye contact again.
Katie made her way to room twenty-seven. Locked in the room, she stood with her back against the door slowing her heartbeat and stilling her trembling hands
You got the money, Katie. It’s gonna be all right. Keep moving. Stick to the plan.
Although she’d love to hightail it out of town, there were still two critical steps: purchasing a vehicle and changing her driver’s license. The current one still listed the Morrison’s address, and she couldn’t have any roads leading back to them.
Yanking the curtains closed, she pulled her tote out of the plastic bags and shook out her purple sweater. I need every item of clothing I own. She hid the bulk of her money in several places: behind a picture, under the microwave, and between two dresser drawers. She couldn’t risk being mugged, losing her purse, or someone breaking into the room. The rest she put in her pocket and headed back toward the alley and a nearby Dollar General.
Katie picked out the items she’d kept as an ongoing list in her head for months; hair color, scissors, and sunglasses. She found a different purse, t-shirt, shorts, three pairs of underwear, a plain pair of tennis shoes, and one oversized sleep shirt. They even had $3 flip-flops, thank the Lord! She bought breakfast bars, a half-liter of Diet Coke, toothpaste, and trail mix. She parked her loaded cart in front of a locked, glass case displaying cell phones.
The only cashier was busy checking out customers, and Katie tapped her foot, excruciatingly aware of every passing minute. The clerk finally noticed Katie and radioed in for ‘assistance out front.’
A manager mosied out of the office and removed the $39.99 flip-phone Katie indicated, out of the case.
She explained that Katie would need to pay for the phone separately, and then added the unwelcome news that there was a $10 activation fee, and the charger wasn’t included either.
Katie handed over$66.33, then waited while the woman called the phone company and read the serial number to activate the phone. The clock ticked off more minutes--six, seven, eight.
Once the phone was initialized, the manager turned to Katie and suggested she buy extra minutes fo the phone. “This phone only comes with thirty minutes of talk and text.”
“Seriously?” Katie let out a sigh.
After listening to the options, Katie chose a twenty-dollar card giving her an additional one-hundred twenty minutes for the phone. She took her place in line, unloading all her purchases onto the conveyor belt.
“That’ll be one-hundred-twenty-six dollars and thirty cents,” the cashier announced, and Katie winced.
As Katie left, she glanced at the information board by the exit. It was jammed with items for sale, babysitting ads, and public notices. There was also a transit map showing all Savannah bus routes and schedules. Although she’d memorized it long ago, Katie glanced around to make sure no one was looking and pulled the map off the board. Stuffing it down in one of the grocery bags, she hurried out the door.
She did math on her way back to the motel. I’ve spent more than two-hundred dollars already. A headache began to pound behind her eyes.
Glancing at her watch, she noted the time; eleven-fifteen. Spying a McDonalds, she hurried inside and splurged on a chicken wrap.
You want fries with that?” the cashier asked out of habit.
“Why not?” Katie answered. “It may be the only meal I have today.”
Back at the motel, she climbed the stairs two at a time, fiddled with the key, shoved through the door, and slammed it behind her. She’d made it. Phase one is complete.
Tossing all her purchases on the bed, Katie sat at the little corner table and inhaled her meal. Crumbling up her trash, she rummaged through the store bags and pulled out the box of hair color.
“Blonds Do NOT have more fun,” she announced to the face in the bathroom mirror. Eager to wash away the white-blond Jack had insisted upon, she pulled out the mixing bottle.
Chapter 29
Jack called Katie’s phone again. When it went to voicemail for the sixth time, he slammed his fist on his desk. It was eleven-fifteen, and she should have at least checked messages between appointments.
He pulled up the GPS apps for the car and her phone, his fingers tapping impatiently, waiting for the damn circle to find her location. The maps showed the vehicle in the parking lot of the Cooper Medical Complex, and her phone inside the building. “Something’s weird.” Signing into their bank website for the second time, he reverified the amount and time of her earli
er withdrawal.
“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jack yelled out to his assistant. Grabbing his keys, he drove straight to the medical complex. He found her car and parked next to it, noting nothing out of the ordinary. Jack checked his watch and headed toward the building. Not entirely sure where mammograms were performed, he stopped to ask directions from the same receptionist Katie had spoken to earlier.
The woman directed him toward the diagnostic wing. Other patrons stepped out of his way, instinctively aware of his intensity. Once his turn came, he oozed charm and flashed his sexiest smile at the receptionist. “My wife and I must have our times mixed up. I was supposed to meet her after her appointment, but now I’m not sure of the time. Can you tell me if she’s finished yet? Kathryn Werner?”
The woman smiled back, taking in his handsome face. “Do you have your ID? Privacy laws being what they are, I can’t give out patient information.” She shrugged an apology.
Jack pawed through his wallet, seething. Little bitch! Asking me for ID as if I’m not who I say I am. He pulled out his driver’s license, never dropping his smile. The girl checked his name against the authorized list on file and reviewed the appointment chart. She crinkled her forehead. “I’m sorry. Your wife never checked in today.”
Jack turned, heading back toward the lobby.
The receptionist called out, “Her appointment was at nine-fifteen if that helps.”
Jack didn’t answer. He pulled out his phone and hit redial.
In the nearby restroom, Katie’s phone vibrated among the used paper towels, and the screen announced, “Incoming Call from Jack.”
He stabbed the elevator button and stood with his nose a millimeter away from the doors. When they opened, he was inside immediately, pushing buttons again. He turned left toward the OB/GYN office, having made the trip before when Katie had first needed such exams.
Jack repeated his concerns and asked whether his wife had completed her check-up. As before, the receptionist informed him Katie had never checked in for her appointment. He spun in a half-circle, ready to race off when he remembered the lab tests she’d scheduled. He turned back to the desk. “Could you possibly call the lab department? I don’t know where it is, and I’m starting to get nervous. She was supposed to have blood work today too.” He ran his hand down his face theatrically.
The administrator took pity and dialed the lab. After asking questions, she looked at Jack. “I’m sorry Mr. Werner, she’s not been there either.”
He pounded the counter once. “Dammit.”
Katie sat on the bed with her head saturated with hair coloring solution. She wore nothing but her underwear, so she didn’t get anything on her clothes. Spinning her wedding ring on her finger, she decided to hide it in the zippered compartment of her new purse. She hated to sell the beautiful, old ring--not because of Jack, but because it had been in his family for a long time. If I don’t need it, I’ll return it to Jack’s mother. Someday.
Jack narrowed his eyes. The situation was serious, and he needed to play his part differently. Aware of the receptionist and patients watching him, Jack sank down in a chair and called Katie again. Instead of hanging up at the voicemail, he left a message and did so loud enough so the people in the waiting area could hear. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m at the medical building, and I can’t find you. Your car’s here, but none of the offices have seen you today. Call me back as soon as you can. I’m going crazy, worrying. Love you!”
He thanked the receptionist, who was smiling again and hurried out to the parking lot.
He bent over, looking underneath her car for a clue—her keys or her phone. He unlocked the car, looking under the seat, in the glove box, and trunk.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he called Katie’s boss at Comfort Keeper. “Hey, Cheyenne. It’s Jack. Jack Werner?”
“Jack? Is everything okay?”
“I’m checking to see if there was some sort of emergency at work today. I can’t reach Katie, and thought, well, with her clients and all—” He left the sentence hanging--the epitome of a caring husband, who understood some patients were nearing the end.
Cheyenne wasn’t fooled. She’d observed Jack and Katie for years. Katie was too skittish not to suspect Jack was the cause. Cheyenne had received enough complaints over the years to know he was in constant contact and called Katie while she was with patients.
Cheyenne adjusted her considerable bulk in her chair, interested in the call. “No, we haven’t had anything come up today. Katie’s had this day scheduled off for months. It’s unusual for Katie not to check-in, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, she always takes my calls.”
“I know.” Cheyenne let her implication hang in the air. “Now I’m worried, too. Let us know what’s going on, okay? Or, have Katie call us later. Promise?”
“I promise,” Jack replied, eager to end the call. “I’ve got to go.”
His hands shook with silent rage. Fucking bitch ran off. He stood staring in the parking lot, imagining Katie laughing as she drove off with another man. She wouldn’t dare. Jack’s fingers curled into fists as he noted the time--eleven-forty. She hadn’t been gone long. All he had to do was find the little traitor.
He called his office next, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“Is everything all right?” His assistant asked.
It’s none of your fucking business, Jack seethed but made himself answer casually, “I’m meeting Katie after her appointments. I’ll use my personal time.” Jack hung up, not waiting for a reply.
Katie watched the clock, waiting for the dye to do its stuff. In the interim, she transferred her personal items to her new purse and clipped her license and debit card. She put one-half of each inside her new tote to be disposed of tomorrow or the next day. The other half of the cards were shoved into the McDonald’s bag, mixing them with ketchup and food. Finally, she took the PO box key out of its hiding spot in the compact and attached it to a metal loop inside the purse. She couldn’t lose the key. It was her entire future.
Chapter 30
Jack raced home and watched the security tapes. He hit the slow-motion button and watched Katie from the time he went to work until she left for appointments. Playing it back twice, he looked for anything suspicious. There was nothing.
He frowned as he watched himself go through her purse. That would seem strange to the police. And I will be calling the police if I don’t find her soon. He decided he’d tell them he had been looking for the checkbook.
Next, he systematically went through her closet. Nothing was missing. Her shoes were in order, carefully arranged the way he liked. He rushed into the bedroom, opening the jewelry box. Hastily moving items around, he quickly determined anything worth any money was all still there. He shoved his hands through his hair. “Where are you?”
Katie washed and dried her hair. “Shit.” Natural Instincts Caramel Crème’ had sounded like the right choice, but looking in the mirror, Katie worried the color was too light. I haven’t changed it enough. There wasn’t a thing she could do about it now. She took out the scissors, took a deep breath, and started cutting.
Jack whipped out his phone again.
Aunt Susan’s sugary voice came on the phone after six rings. “Hello?”
“Aunt Susan, it’s Jack.”
The sweetness melted away, “Oh. Jack. Is everything all right?”
Jack scowled at her disapproving voice. I wonder what lies Katie has told her.
“Jack? Are you still there?”
“Yeah. Is Katie there, by chance?”
“Katie? Well, no. Goodness, I haven’t seen her in months. I talked to her on Monday. I haven’t seen her, although I wish I could.”
Jack gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, willing himself to stay pleasant. “Well, I can’t seem to find her today.”
“What?”
“I said I can’t find her.”
“Well, where is she?”
“I don’t know. That’s
why I was calling you. Katie had appointments this morning but never showed up for any of them. I wondered if she came to visit instead or said something to you on the phone?”
“Well, I’ll be. Did you call her?” On her end, Aunt Susan gave a satisfied smile. She loved antagonizing Jack. Susan knew Katie was unhappy and suspected Jack was the cause. She crossed her fingers, hoping Katie had left him. Oh, Katie-girl. I hope you’re safe.
Like every other frickin’ person that day, Jack promised to call if he found Katie. He headed for his car, intent on visiting Katie’s clients. He scrolled through his phone, finding the first one, Mr. Parker. The man had dementia or something. Jack couldn’t remember and didn’t care. He plugged in directions and started driving.
Jack rang the doorbell four times before Mr. Parker answered. The old man’s clothes didn’t match, his pants were unzipped, and his thinning hair stuck straight up from his head.
Jack explained who he was and why he was there, but the light never reached Mr. Parker’s eyes. He stood in the doorway, unsure. “Katie? Do I know Katie?”
Jack asked more questions.
“Leave the mail on the table.” Mr. Parker shuffled away.
Frustrated, Jack pulled the door shut and got back in his car. “Jesus! What a waste of time—man’s fucking wearing diapers.”
He pulled up his phone for the next address--Amanda Stokely.
When Amanda answered the door, Jack barely introduced himself before launching into the reason he was at her house.
Amanda narrowed her eyes and listened to his explanation. At Katie’s name, she brightened. “Katie?” She slurred slightly. “I love that woman. She’s a huge help, but no, I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
Jack left without saying goodbye.
Gertrude Taylor was last. Jack knocked on the door and couldn’t hide his disgust at the bent old woman who answered the door.
“Katie’s husband? Oh, I’m so glad to meet you. She’s an angel that one.” Gertie lifted gnarled fingers to shake Jack’s hand. He recoiled.
There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller Page 14