Dovetail: A Novel(30)

Her routine outside work became his routine. Sometimes he’d boldly position himself close to her, overhearing conversations between her and the librarian or taking note of the cardigan sweater she’d purchased at Kohl’s. She’d never have bought anything that shapeless when they were married. Without his advice, her taste in clothing had gotten sloppy.

At one point, a policeman had shown up at his door, saying Kathleen was uncomfortable with his gifts. Ricky had offered him a cold beer, which he’d turned down, and then a can of Coke, which he took, and they had a man-to-man talk about how difficult women could be. By the time the officer left, they’d nearly been buddies. After that, Ricky held back a little bit—not that he was giving up, just giving her some space.

And then, one day, she was gone. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary prior to her disappearance. She’d walked her parents’ dog just the night before, as usual.

Where could she be? He went over the week’s events in his head. She’d gone to work every day, returned her library books on Saturday, watched Dynasty on television with her parents in the living room the night before. Nothing odd. No signs of any new developments.

After much observation, he realized that her mother was gone as well, leaving Kathleen’s father home alone. A girls’ trip? It seemed unlikely. He called all of the area hospitals, thinking maybe they’d gotten in a car accident or something similar, but neither of the women were patients anywhere. When he finally called Kathleen’s job, the woman who answered the phone said she no longer worked there. “Did she quit, or was she let go?” he asked, careful not to use the word fired. No one in their right mind would fire Kathleen, but the job market was tight, and positions were eliminated all the time. It happened even to people who were outstanding employees.

“I can’t really speak to that,” she answered, her voice guarded.

“Is it that you don’t know, or that you won’t tell me?” He tried not to let his impatience show, but it must have snuck out because the woman quickly bid him goodbye and hung up the phone. Rude. He was tempted to call back and ask to speak to management but thought better of it. He could figure this out on his own.

A month later, when Kathleen’s mother returned home without her daughter, Ricky thought he’d go out of his mind from worry. Over the next few weeks, he watched from down the street as her parents came and went to work, church, and the grocery store and wondered where in the hell his mother-in-law had left her daughter. He followed them to their church twice, an excruciating experience of murmured prayers and boring songs, and listened as Kathleen’s mother made small talk with other people after the service. At one point, an old biddy asked her, “How’s Kathleen doing these days?” and his ears went on high alert, listening for the answer.

“Never better,” his mother-in-law had answered. “She’s really coming into her own.”

Really coming into her own? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

And then the biddy had said to give Kathleen her love, as if she had any idea what it meant to love Kathleen. Only he was entitled to that privilege.

Ricky had swallowed his pride then and called her parents’ house. When her mother answered, he greeted her warmly and asked if he could speak to Kathleen.

His mother-in-law’s voice turned icy. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, Ricky. Leave her be.”

“Can you at least tell me where she is? Did she move?”

“Goodbye.” The receiver slamming onto the base was an assault to his ear. How dare she! No one treated him that way.

He tossed and turned that night, running through all the possibilities. Had Kathleen joined the Peace Corps or the army? Gone back to school? Moved to work in another city? That last one seemed unlikely. All her friends and family were here in her hometown. Why randomly move? It would be so unlike her to do something on her own. She always needed guidance.

Eventually, Ricky fell asleep. When he woke up, he had an idea. His father-in-law’s birthday the following week was a special occasion Kathleen would surely remember. Birthdays of loved ones and holidays were sacrosanct to her. She would never forget. If it were humanly possible, she would be coming home to celebrate in person, or if that wasn’t doable, she’d certainly send a card or a package.

He called in sick that day and waited in his parked car on the street until he saw both Kathleen’s mom and dad leave for work that morning. He followed her dad to make doubly sure he was heading to his job, then checked the parking lot of her mom’s employer to verify her car was in her designated spot.

Going back to the house, he waited until the mail was delivered, then parked down the street until the truck was long gone. He walked down the sidewalk and then up to the house, striding casually as if it were no big deal. He made a show of knocking on the door in case any of the neighbors were watching, then lifted the mailbox flap and peered inside to see several cards. After taking them out and shuffling through them, he found one matching Kathleen’s handwriting. There was no return address, but it was postmarked Pullman, Wisconsin.

So she was in Pullman, Wisconsin, then. Why? He shook his head, not knowing the answer. Why would anyone go live in Wisconsin, especially a beautiful young woman who could live anywhere? None of it made sense, but it didn’t matter. He was getting closer to figuring out where she’d gone.

He stopped by the library and looked up Pullman, Wisconsin, in the reference section. Population 1,146. Once he realized what a podunk town it was, he went back to his apartment with a plan.