214 Palmer Street(15)
“And she was fine when you left this morning? Not upset about anything?”
“She was more than fine. She made me an omelet for breakfast and gave me a kiss before I headed out the door. We were like a married couple in a 1950s sitcom.” As he’d backed the car out of the garage she’d even stood in the open doorway and given him a wave and a smile. Nothing indicated she was planning to go on a trip. Could it have been a completely spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment decision? Possible for someone else’s wife but not for Sarah. He knew in his heart she wouldn’t do such a thing. She was thoughtful and kind. Not one to just take off and leave him wondering and worrying.
“Well,” his mother said, “there are a few possibilities here. It might be she really just decided she needed a getaway and wanted to be alone. Lord knows there were times I could have used a break from your dad.” Kirk heard his father voice an objection in the background. “Or,” she continued without acknowledging his dad’s remark, “possibly it’s related to her head injury.”
“You always blame that.” He had trouble keeping the irritation out of his voice.
“You don’t need to snap at me, I’m only trying to help.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that the doctor said her injury wasn’t that severe. It was only a hairline crack.”
“I would think a cracked skull is serious enough. You’ve been telling me how erratic her behavior has been lately. Her moodiness, and the problems she’s having with brain fog. She told me herself she’s had trouble sleeping.”
“I know. She told me the same thing.”
“Sleep deprivation can exacerbate emotions. Ask any mother of a newborn.”
He exhaled. “It’s been hard on her being home during the day by herself. I thought she was getting better, though.”
“The doctors did say recovery time varied from person to person.”
“I know what the doctors said, Mom. You’re just repeating what I told you.” After a long pause, he said, “I keep thinking there’s something I’m missing.”
“I guess it’s possible someone coerced her into leaving, either talked her into it, or threatened her somehow.” After a few moments’ silence, she added, “I think you should call Gavin.”
This was the second time in a year that his connection with Gavin was proving to be helpful. His friend’s job as the head of the local police force came as no surprise. Even as a boy Gavin talked about guns, jail, and arresting criminals and no wonder—law enforcement was woven into his DNA. Gavin’s dad had been the chief of police and when he died unexpectedly of a heart attack at fifty-three years old, Gavin was his natural successor.
Despite a falling-out in their teen years and the occasional disagreement, their friendship had been a constant in Kirk’s life. They’d been on the same sports teams all through school, went to the same college, and had been in the same fraternity. Sometimes the closeness had felt like too much, but whenever Kirk tried to ease away from the relationship, something happened to pull him back into Gavin’s orbit. They had a connection impossible to explain to anyone else, and as Gavin liked to remind him, it was in Kirk’s best interests to stay on his good side.
When Gavin had gotten married, Kirk was his best man. Seeing Gavin and his wife, Natalie, standing together at the altar stirred something inside of him, made him want what they had. By the time the cake was cut, Kirk had decided it was time for him to settle down as well.
He’d met Sarah in a doctors’ waiting room. She’d made a comment about the book he’d been reading, The Cider House Rules by John Irving. Turned out that she’d read it too. “One of my favorites,” she’d said. The conversation flowed from there and they’d never stopped talking. If he’d been able to create a woman from scratch it would have been Sarah. Pretty, sweet, smart, agreeable.
Gavin and Natalie had given Sarah their vote of approval and even helped Kirk pick out an engagement ring. The two women had hit it off, and they often had dinner at the Kramers’ house. Natalie loved to cook so it seemed to make sense.
His mother was right. If anyone knew what to do right now, it would be Gavin. “I’ll give him a call after we’re done talking.”
“Did you check the doorbell footage?” his mother asked abruptly.
“No, but I didn’t get pinged at all today. Nothing, not even an Amazon delivery.” In thinking back, this was unusual. Even when there weren’t deliveries, he always knew when Sarah had gone to the street to the mailbox, or left to go on a walk through the neighborhood. In the last year he hadn’t made it through a day without getting alerted by the doorbell cam at least once. And today, on the day she left there was nothing? Odd.
“I’d check it anyway. And try texting, Facebook messaging, and calling her friends. Make sure and ask Gavin if you can report her missing. He’ll know how to handle it. Mention her head injury. She’s vulnerable.”
TEN
HER
Police Chief Gavin Kramer was a big deal in our town. He was in the local news occasionally, and his wife, Natalie, owned a fancy boutique downtown. I stopped in once and tried on some cocktail dresses but didn’t make a purchase. She didn’t know who I was, something I found of interest.