Street, escaping the busier thoroughfares. The green Chevy followed as Clem headed south out of downtown towards the older neighborhoods that blended downtown with suburbia. After a short while, Clem’s car seemed to be staying at a more constant speed which made Kelsey’s pursuit easier.
Clem’s car slowed down as it turned onto Calloway Avenue, a quiet street of small shops and residencies. After a few hundred yards, the silver Mercedes pulled over and stopped outside an old brownstone apartment building. Kelsey kept driving. With one hand on the wheel, he reached for his video camera. He filmed Clem step out of his car and stuff a handful of quarters into a parking meter then recorded Clem walking the few yards to the apartment entrance.
Kelsey stopped his car and started to slowly back up. He was out of Clem’s line of sight but Kelsey’s zoom lens had its target clearly in focus. While he filmed, he narrated what he observed.
“Subject’s arrival time at location…5.48 p.m. Subject has exited vehicle and is proceeding to entrance of apartment building located on Calloway Avenue.”
Clem disappeared inside the brownstone. All Kelsey could do now was wait. It was anybody’s guess which apartment buzzer Clem had pressed once inside. Kelsey scribbled down the address and noted the time just for good measure. Then he reversed his Chevy into a parking space which gave him a clearer view to the entrance to 1611. Kelsey switched off his car’s engine. Now he just had to remain vigilant and that meant no shuteye. That was the trouble with these kinds of jobs. He was hungry. Flipping open the glove compartment, he leaned over and grabbed a bag of toffees. That should keep his blood sugar high enough to keep him awake until Clem emerged, whenever that might be.
It was just after eight when Clem got home that night. He’d called Tara to give her a heads up that he was running late this time. She was over preparing anything elaborate for dinner since Clem had started acting so strangely disinterested in her cooking as well as her body. Tara hadn’t had a face-to-face conversation with her husband since Mrs. Cho had found the card in his jacket and she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to react when she saw him. She’d written several speeches in her head, most of them extremely angry and she wasn’t sure which one was going to blurt out of her when Clem walked in.
Tara sat quietly in the living room reading, or pretending to read, when she heard Clem enter the kitchen from the garage. She was still in her shorts, t-shirt and Nike running shoes. She knew that the two of them wouldn’t be going out anywhere that evening as they never did that anymore, so there was no point dressing up in anticipation. And considering the mood she was in, a public place would not be a good idea right now.
Tara heard Clem put his laptop case on the island counter but she stayed out of sight in the living room. She waited for Clem to at least call her name but he didn’t say a word. All she heard was the sound of his footsteps as he walked across the hardwood floor in their kitchen towards the carpeted staircase. Tara could hear his muffled footsteps ascend the stairs up to their bedroom so she put down her book and walked quietly to the foot of the stairs.
She waited, and then heard the shower running. Should she confront Clem before he showered, during or after? And why was he showering before the dinner she hadn’t made him?
Tara’s beating heart and racing mind were getting the better of her. She felt she was on the verge of losing control of her emotions. Control was the key. Tara knew that. But she had so much pent up angst inside she had to vent it somehow or she’d explode. Tara couldn’t just stand there waiting for Clem to stroll back downstairs all in his own good time. She was ready to fight but her opponent wasn’t coming out of his corner. That gave him control and she didn’t want that. Tara opened the
Clem’s car slowed down as it turned onto Calloway Avenue, a quiet street of small shops and residencies. After a few hundred yards, the silver Mercedes pulled over and stopped outside an old brownstone apartment building. Kelsey kept driving. With one hand on the wheel, he reached for his video camera. He filmed Clem step out of his car and stuff a handful of quarters into a parking meter then recorded Clem walking the few yards to the apartment entrance.
Kelsey stopped his car and started to slowly back up. He was out of Clem’s line of sight but Kelsey’s zoom lens had its target clearly in focus. While he filmed, he narrated what he observed.
“Subject’s arrival time at location…5.48 p.m. Subject has exited vehicle and is proceeding to entrance of apartment building located on Calloway Avenue.”
Clem disappeared inside the brownstone. All Kelsey could do now was wait. It was anybody’s guess which apartment buzzer Clem had pressed once inside. Kelsey scribbled down the address and noted the time just for good measure. Then he reversed his Chevy into a parking space which gave him a clearer view to the entrance to 1611. Kelsey switched off his car’s engine. Now he just had to remain vigilant and that meant no shuteye. That was the trouble with these kinds of jobs. He was hungry. Flipping open the glove compartment, he leaned over and grabbed a bag of toffees. That should keep his blood sugar high enough to keep him awake until Clem emerged, whenever that might be.
It was just after eight when Clem got home that night. He’d called Tara to give her a heads up that he was running late this time. She was over preparing anything elaborate for dinner since Clem had started acting so strangely disinterested in her cooking as well as her body. Tara hadn’t had a face-to-face conversation with her husband since Mrs. Cho had found the card in his jacket and she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to react when she saw him. She’d written several speeches in her head, most of them extremely angry and she wasn’t sure which one was going to blurt out of her when Clem walked in.
Tara sat quietly in the living room reading, or pretending to read, when she heard Clem enter the kitchen from the garage. She was still in her shorts, t-shirt and Nike running shoes. She knew that the two of them wouldn’t be going out anywhere that evening as they never did that anymore, so there was no point dressing up in anticipation. And considering the mood she was in, a public place would not be a good idea right now.
Tara heard Clem put his laptop case on the island counter but she stayed out of sight in the living room. She waited for Clem to at least call her name but he didn’t say a word. All she heard was the sound of his footsteps as he walked across the hardwood floor in their kitchen towards the carpeted staircase. Tara could hear his muffled footsteps ascend the stairs up to their bedroom so she put down her book and walked quietly to the foot of the stairs.
She waited, and then heard the shower running. Should she confront Clem before he showered, during or after? And why was he showering before the dinner she hadn’t made him?
Tara’s beating heart and racing mind were getting the better of her. She felt she was on the verge of losing control of her emotions. Control was the key. Tara knew that. But she had so much pent up angst inside she had to vent it somehow or she’d explode. Tara couldn’t just stand there waiting for Clem to stroll back downstairs all in his own good time. She was ready to fight but her opponent wasn’t coming out of his corner. That gave him control and she didn’t want that. Tara opened the
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