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  It had begun to rain. By the time Mary reached home, her dull stringy hair was dripping wet, and her thin sweater did little to keep her clothes dry. Her yellow high tops made a squishing sound with each step. But Mary didn’t feel any of it. She was too anxious to get home, open her jug of wine and make a phone call.

  Mary was only fifty-two years old, but anyone who didn’t know her would look at her sallow wrinkled skin, jaundiced eyes and missing teeth and think she had passed seventy a while ago. No one would have ever believed that this wretched woman’s life could have ever been any different and, in fact, it hadn’t. Abandoned by her mother and raised by her abusive father, she had never really had a chance for anything better. It was no surprise that she was about to sell her soul for one drink.

  When Etta got to Tully’s, Deegan told her Tully was gone to run some errands.

  “Anything I can do for you, Stella?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. You know if she’ll be back soon?”

  He shrugged. “Never can tell. You want me to have her call you?”

  “No,” she said. “I’ll see her tomorrow. I’ll leave a note on her desk. I’ll be right back.”

  She went into the office, laid her coat and bag on the chair and picked up a piece of note paper and a pen from Tully’s desk.

  Tully, I’d like to talk to you. I’ll come in tomorrow morning around 11. If that’s not convenient, call me. Stella

  She started to put on her coat when Deegan walked in. “Can I help you with anything, Stella?”

  His voice startled her, and she turned around quickly and bumped the chair where her handbag was setting. It slid off the chair and emptied onto the floor.

  “Aw, jeez, I’m sorry I scared you, kid. Here, let me help you pick that stuff up.”

  Deegan came in and began picking up the contents of her bag and putting them back in. He handed it to her and apologized again.

  “No, that’s okay, Deegan. I was just leaving Tully a note.”

  He followed her out and asked again if he could have Tully call her. She told him no and she left the pub.

  By the time Etta got back to the cottage, Tully was sitting next to Dan at the Sheriff’s station. He was looking on the computer and she was intent on what was on the screen.

  “Why didn’t the authorities question him about that?” Tully asked.

  “Because he’s the City Manager. They apparently have no evidence that would require them to look this stuff up,” Dan said.

  “I wonder if she knows any of this?”

  Dan shrugged and shook his head. “Who knows. It still doesn’t tell us why she took off and changed her whole identity. Maybe she does know.”

  “She knows something, I’ll bet.”

  At that same time, Crazy Mary was sitting in her cluttered and filthy trailer, drinking her cheap wine and feeding her mangy cat with a dirty spoon. A half-eaten stolen candy bar had fallen on the floor. She picked it up, wiped it off on her sweater and took a bite. Her phone was laying on the table next to her and she kept staring at it, like she was waiting for a call. Finally, that call came. She wiped chocolate spittle from her lips and answered it.

  “Hello?” She listened and smiled.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Summers. Thank you for calling me. That nice news lady said she’d get in touch with you right away. I have some news about your wife.”

  Chapter 9

  Etta walked into Tully’s at ten the next morning. She had the manila folder in her bag. Salty wasn’t with her. He’d gotten into a dish of chocolate kisses when she wasn’t looking and ate several, including the foil wrapping. She gave him hydrogen peroxide to make him throw up. He did—the chocolate, foil, and also surprised her with two dimes in the mix. He wasn’t feeling well, but he was going to be fine. She left him home to recuperate after picking up everything that could possibly entice him into another dangerous meal. She also put a piece of plywood across the doggie door and secured it with a screw so he couldn’t get out. She wasn’t going to be gone long.

  She was surprised to see Dan behind the bar pouring himself a cup of coffee. He looked like he’d stayed up all night. He saw her come in and ran his hand through his silver-threaded dark hair, which looked like something the cat may have swallowed and upchucked.

  “Were you up all night?” she asked, getting a clean cup and handing it to him.

  He took it and poured her a cup of coffee. “I thought you were a tea drinker.”

  She took the cup and said, “I am, but I need some extra caffeine courage this morning. Tully in the office?”

  “I’m right here, hon.”

  Tully walked out of the storeroom just as Frannie came in with a box of donuts. The excitement on her face when she saw Dan was obvious. He glanced up at her but didn’t say anything. After setting down the donuts, she stepped up to the bar and sat down on the barstool across from Dan.

  “Hi,” she said coyly.

  “Hey Fran,” Dan said with obvious disinterest.

  “You didn’t come over last night,” Frannie said, pouting.

  Though Frannie was a good-looking woman in a simple sort of way, a pout is never attractive on a woman over fifty. Etta suspected she was, in fact, over fifty.

  “Dan?” Frannie leaned over the bar and touched his arm.

  He frowned. “What?” Then he softened his expression and apologized. “Sorry, I was thinking of something. What did you say?”

  “I said you didn’t come over last night. I thought you would be over. I mean, we kind of talked about it. It was one of Mama’s bunco nights.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, Frannie, I was busy.”

  Etta watched with amused compassion for the poor woman. She was trying her best, but Dan was obviously thinking of other things.

  “A case? Can I help?”

  “What are you gonna due, Fran, fry a donut?” As soon as he said it, he was sorry. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I appreciate your concern, but you can’t help.”

  Tully was also watching from her office door. Finally, she rolled her eyes, went to the register, and took out a twenty-dollar bill.

  “Frannie, here, take this,” she said as she walked around the bar and took Frannie by the arm.

  “Oh, Tully, sweetie, I don’t want pay. These are just extras I make… you know, sometimes they’re just not eaten. On the house, as always,” Frannie said as she was gently tugged from the barstool.

  “It’s nice of you to make extras twice a week, especially if you think Dan’s coming by. But honestly, Frannie, you need not bother.” As she pulled Frannie toward the door, she added, “And we’re having a meeting here this morning, so bye bye.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at Dan, “Then, tonight Dan?”

  He didn’t answer but Tully did. “Dan’s busy tonight, Frannie. Bye.”

  She locked the door after Frannie left, and Dan seemed like he hadn’t heard the exchange at all.

  Tully’s laptop was setting on a table. She told them to join her there.

  Etta looked from Tully to Dan and said, “I need to talk to you, Tully. Alone.”

  “No, hon, you need to talk to both Dan and me. Danny, come over here and pull up what you showed me yesterday.”

  Etta was confused, but she sat down. There was no way she was going to talk to Tully about Mike with Dan sitting there, but she didn’t have to. Dan walked to the table and sat down in front of the laptop, tapped on a few keys and turned the screen toward her.

  “That’s you, isn’t it? Etta Summers?”

  She looked at the picture of her that had been all over the news for weeks. She didn’t respond. He tapped in a few more keys and turned the screen back to her again.

  “And that’s your husband?”

  She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Tears began to well in her eyes.

  “It’s alright, hon, just tell us what this is all about.”

  After several gulps of coffee and deep breaths, sh
e told them everything.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  Tully patted her arm. “I didn’t know for sure. I knew you were in trouble the first time you came in to ask for a job. I’ve been there, hon. I know the signs. But I wasn’t the only one. Crazy Mary suspected. She came to me about you. She’d taken a picture of you when you didn’t know it.”

  Etta remembered Mary’s comment to her when she saw the picture on the television.

  “I’ll get in touch with Mary and make sure she doesn’t say anything to anyone. She doesn’t want any trouble from me,” Dan said.

  Then she reached into her bag and pulled out the manila folder. When Dan saw the photos of the two people who had been murdered, he tapped the keys again and turned the screen to her.

  There in front of her were photos of three women, two of them younger and one about her age.

  “Who are they?” she asked.

  “One of them is Sandra Flannery. Died under suspicious circumstances. Never solved. That one,” Dan pointed to the young pretty woman in the center, “is Jessica Cole, also died under suspicious circumstances. This one is Janice Flannery.”

  Etta looked at the woman on the right. “Did she also die?”

  Dan shook his head. “No. She lives in Atlantic City. Her husband, Eric Flannery, was also the husband of Sandra Flannery and Jessica Cole. He was killed in a car wreck, burned so badly that positive identification was never made, but here’s a picture of him before his death.”

  “Mike.” Etta’s bottom lip began to quiver. “But Mike’s alive.”

  Dan nodded. “Eric Flannery was being investigated on several counts of fraud. He was also suspected of being involved in human trafficking. This guy’s been moving around for years.”

  She sat back in her chair and just looked at the photo of the man that she had been so in love with three years ago. The man she had married.

  “Convenient that he didn’t have to face trial, huh?” Tully said.

  “Stella… well, I guess it’s Etta… your husband is very clever. He’s had many identities. Mike Summers is obviously not his real name. I’m not even sure what his real name is yet,” Dan explained.

  “How did he become a city manager?”

  Tully said, “He’s good and he probably had help. He changed his identity again and got false documents. You’re lucky you got out.”

  “What’s going to happen?” Etta asked.

  “Well, I’m going to contact the Cleveland Falls Police Department, and…”

  “But I think maybe someone there is involved in this, too.”

  Dan narrowed he eyes, and two little creases appeared between his heavy eyebrows. His lips disappeared beneath his mustache. He exhaled and shook his head.

  “That’s pretty common in these cases. It’s not usually from law enforcement, but they make connections with someone in a high place. Do you think you know who it might be?” he asked.

  She told them what she suspected—that it was the police chief, Darren Sykes. All Dan could find on Sykes was that he had been hired about the same time as Mike by the mayor.

  “They’ve probably been working this together, who knows for how long. I doubt they’re doing this all on their own. They’re probably working for someone else.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Etta, I want you to do exactly what you’ve been doing. Go home. Take care of Salty. Come to work. Do what you would normally do. I’ll stay in touch, and you call me if you need me.”

  He wrote down his cell phone number for her and she put it in her bag. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or sick to her stomach… a little of both.

  “Thank you. Thank you both,” she said.

  “Don’t thank us. Let’s just help get this piece of shit off the streets. Hon, you’ve already done your part for now. Let Danny handle it from here on out.”

  “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go home. Salty ate some stuff he shouldn’t have. I don’t want to leave him alone too long.”

  Dan was staring at the screen and tapping on the keys. He stopped and looked up and said. “Be careful. I’ll let you know when I need something else. Keep your eyes open.”

  At the same time Etta was unlocking her front door, someone was knocking on Crazy Mary’s door, holding a bottle of gin and a gun.

  Chapter 10

  Etta wandered around in the cottage all afternoon. She made herself a bowl of soup but took two bites and couldn’t eat the rest. She fed Salty and took him on a short walk, constantly looking over her shoulder. She avoided walking past Ida Mae’s house. The woman was tenacious in her attempts to engage her in conversation. So, she walked the opposite direction, away from the park and toward the harbor.

  She couldn’t stop worrying that if Tully and that barfly that sold her blood for alcohol had recognized her, other people could recognize her, as well. After Salty had finished his business, she hurried back to the cottage.

  She was tired and realized she hadn’t slept much at all for weeks. She would fall asleep for an hour or two and then the dream would start. She was always somewhere different, but the dream was the same… she was always running, trying to find a way out and away from something. The locations were always different. Sometimes she was in a store, sometimes in a forest, and often she was in a car driving in a parking garage, going up and down ramps, but always coming to a dead end. She always woke up exhausted.

  She took a quilt from the bed and then turned on the five o’clock news. She lay down on the sofa and pulled the quilt up under her chin. Again, she saw her photograph on the news. This time, she turned up the volume.

  The missing woman’s sister is convinced that Mike Summers had something to do with Etta Summers’ disappearance. We were unsuccessful in contacting Mr. Summers for a statement.

  “Thanks, Ella,” she said smiling as she closed her eyes.

  Her body was exhausted—her mind even more so. With Salty lying on the floor beside her, she drifted off to sleep.

  She was abruptly startled awake by Salty’s growling and barking. It took her a moment to clear the fog of sleep from her head. Was she still dreaming? She was in the dark. Her heart was pounding. She heard a voice outside and then someone knocking on her door.

  A chill ran down her arms as she got up and looked around for a weapon. There was nothing. She tried to peer through the window, but she couldn’t see anything. It was too dark. Still the pounding continued.

  “Ms. Brown, are you in there? Ms. Brown?” someone yelled through the door, and her tense shoulders relaxed when she recognized Ida Mae’s voice.

  When she opened the door, Ida Mae didn’t wait for an invitation to walk in. “It’s about time. I knew you was home. I saw you take Salty out for a walk. You ought to take him up to the park instead of lettin’ him do his business on people’s grass.”

  Though the woman irritated her to no end, she was thankful it had been Ida Mae at her door instead of… No, she told herself, get that thought out of your mind.

  Ida Mae had continued to chatter. “…and when it got dark and I didn’t see any lights, I thought I better come check on you. Why are you sittin’ here in the dark?”

  Etta reached for the switch by the door and turned on the overhead light. The wrinkles in Ida Mae’s forehead deepened as she squinted her eyes against the brightness of the light.

  She looked around the room and spying the blanket on the sofa, she asked, “Why are you sleepin’ out here?”

  She put her hands on her hips and looked around Etta into the dining room. She was wearing a purple and pink cotton plaid dress that buttoned up the front with a red cardigan sweater that had seen better days. Though Ida Mae was a small woman, she had a round little belly that hiked her dress up in the front. The buttons were strained so that you could see her white slip between them. Her thin bird legs ended in white socks and black tennis shoes. The total look made Etta smile.

  “Hmph, old Hank weren’t much of a decorator, and you ain’t done mu
ch to the place either since you been here. You outta come over to my place. I could give you some pointers.”

  Ida Mae stood there with her hands folded in front of her looking at Etta like a scolding parent. Etta knew her nosey neighbor had been dying to get inside the house, but she was in no mood to put up with her.

  “Ida Mae, we’re fine and I’m really tired, but thanks for coming to check on me.” She put her hands on Ida Mae’s shoulders and turned her around, gently nudging her back toward the door.

  “But…” Ida Mae looked back over her shoulder trying to see as much as she could.

  “Thanks, Ida Mae. You have a nice evening.”

  She was finally able to get the woman outside the door, but Salty also went out and stood on the porch growling at something in the darkness. Etta thought she heard something in the bushes.

  “Shut up, Salty, it’s just one of Loretta’s cats. Crazy cat woman has about a dozen of the stinkin’ things. They keep comin’ over and poopin’ in my flowers.”

  “Salty, get back in here,” Etta said, and Salty obeyed her.

  As she shut the door, she heard Ida Mae continue her complaint. “… and I’m gonna get me a scatter gun and kill me a few cats.”

  Etta locked the door, made sure the back door was also locked, and that the board she’d placed over the doggie door was secure. She got a drink of water, pulled all of the curtains closed, and went to bed.

  Sometime in the early morning hours, she awoke to the sound of Salty whining.

  “Salty?” she called the dog, but he didn’t come.

  She quietly opened the closet door and got a hammer from Hank’s toolbox then she tiptoed out of the bedroom. Salty wasn’t in the living room. She thought she heard something in the kitchen.