been to a noon meeting. I’d say it’s been about two months, maybe more.”
“Two ... two months?” Sam said, her voice perplexed. “Didn’t that send up a red flag that maybe something was wrong with her?”
“I’m not her mother, Samantha. She didn’t need to check in. Besides, that’s not so unusual. I thought she might be busy with work. She’s missed meetings before.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Sam asked, her anxiety shifting to anger.
“You’re not her mother either, Samantha.”
Sam shook her head in disbelief. The jigsaw puzzle was becoming more difficult each time she tried to place a piece.
“You know what really troubles me, Sam?”
Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Robin told me in October that she had gone to a bar for the first time in years.”
“A bar!?” Sam’s blue eyes darkened and widened at Ruth’s remark.
“Tim’s Place,” Ruth said.
“Tim’s Place?” Sam echoed.
Ruth nodded.
“What the hell was she doing there?” Sam asked.
“Meeting a client maybe. I don’t know.”
“A client?” Sam said. The nagging thought returned that Robin somehow might be involved in an illegal drug smuggling operation.
“I didn’t think much about it,” Ruth said. “It doesn’t mean much to me, since I go into one almost every day. Robin was a responsible woman, Samantha. She didn’t show up for meetings on occasion, but I didn’t think much about it, our people come and go all the time. But if you’re having suspicions about her death, maybe those were some kind of signals. I’m sorry, now I wish I had paid more attention.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ruth,” Sam said, making a conscious effort to push her anger down. “You’re right. I can’t expect you to constantly be watching out for Robin any more than I can. Where is this Tim’s Place, anyway?”
“Robin never said. But if it’s the place I think, then it’s off Forty-fourth Avenue, between Sheridan and Wadsworth.”
Sam wrote down “Tim’s Place” in her reporter’s notebook and circled it.
Ruth glanced at her watch. “Come on, I’ll walk you outside,” she said, patting Sam on the thigh. “I need a cigarette.”
They stepped out into a light flurry of snow. Ruth took a deep drag on her cigarette and watched Sam clear snow from her windshield. Sam waved at Ruth as she left the parking lot.
Ruth finished her cigarette and crushed the butt in the snow with her foot. She went inside and hesitated in the hallway for a moment before heading for the telephone in the kitchen. She had been given the number and was instructed to call should Sam come asking about Robin. She did what was expected of her.
Ruth did not want to do it. But they had offered her a great deal of money. She thought her convictions, her sense of moral integrity were stronger than that. Still, it surprised her that she had it in her to accept the cash so easily, and to betray someone that she had loved and cared for so long, the way she had Robin.
It was more money than she could ever acquire in her lifetime. She couldn’t resist. The temptation was too great. She wanted a few nice things. Maybe a new car and new furniture in the living room. She needed clothes and it would be nice to get her hair done more often. Yes, she needed the money. It was the only reason she had agreed.
Ruth dialed the number. The caller answered.
“May I speak to Captain, please?”
****
On the way back to the office, Sam kept thinking of Tim’s Place. She had never heard of the bar, but then she didn’t frequent any enough to know one from the other. Bars weren’t for her. She drank at home. Alone. Most of the time she kept the curtains closed. She felt more comfortable that way.
Before Sam knew it, it was five-thirty. She left the office and stepped out into a light snowfall to go home. She drove out of her way on Wadsworth to 20th Avenue. She turned left on Glen Garry Drive and stopped just before the road bent
“Two ... two months?” Sam said, her voice perplexed. “Didn’t that send up a red flag that maybe something was wrong with her?”
“I’m not her mother, Samantha. She didn’t need to check in. Besides, that’s not so unusual. I thought she might be busy with work. She’s missed meetings before.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Sam asked, her anxiety shifting to anger.
“You’re not her mother either, Samantha.”
Sam shook her head in disbelief. The jigsaw puzzle was becoming more difficult each time she tried to place a piece.
“You know what really troubles me, Sam?”
Sam looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Robin told me in October that she had gone to a bar for the first time in years.”
“A bar!?” Sam’s blue eyes darkened and widened at Ruth’s remark.
“Tim’s Place,” Ruth said.
“Tim’s Place?” Sam echoed.
Ruth nodded.
“What the hell was she doing there?” Sam asked.
“Meeting a client maybe. I don’t know.”
“A client?” Sam said. The nagging thought returned that Robin somehow might be involved in an illegal drug smuggling operation.
“I didn’t think much about it,” Ruth said. “It doesn’t mean much to me, since I go into one almost every day. Robin was a responsible woman, Samantha. She didn’t show up for meetings on occasion, but I didn’t think much about it, our people come and go all the time. But if you’re having suspicions about her death, maybe those were some kind of signals. I’m sorry, now I wish I had paid more attention.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ruth,” Sam said, making a conscious effort to push her anger down. “You’re right. I can’t expect you to constantly be watching out for Robin any more than I can. Where is this Tim’s Place, anyway?”
“Robin never said. But if it’s the place I think, then it’s off Forty-fourth Avenue, between Sheridan and Wadsworth.”
Sam wrote down “Tim’s Place” in her reporter’s notebook and circled it.
Ruth glanced at her watch. “Come on, I’ll walk you outside,” she said, patting Sam on the thigh. “I need a cigarette.”
They stepped out into a light flurry of snow. Ruth took a deep drag on her cigarette and watched Sam clear snow from her windshield. Sam waved at Ruth as she left the parking lot.
Ruth finished her cigarette and crushed the butt in the snow with her foot. She went inside and hesitated in the hallway for a moment before heading for the telephone in the kitchen. She had been given the number and was instructed to call should Sam come asking about Robin. She did what was expected of her.
Ruth did not want to do it. But they had offered her a great deal of money. She thought her convictions, her sense of moral integrity were stronger than that. Still, it surprised her that she had it in her to accept the cash so easily, and to betray someone that she had loved and cared for so long, the way she had Robin.
It was more money than she could ever acquire in her lifetime. She couldn’t resist. The temptation was too great. She wanted a few nice things. Maybe a new car and new furniture in the living room. She needed clothes and it would be nice to get her hair done more often. Yes, she needed the money. It was the only reason she had agreed.
Ruth dialed the number. The caller answered.
“May I speak to Captain, please?”
****
On the way back to the office, Sam kept thinking of Tim’s Place. She had never heard of the bar, but then she didn’t frequent any enough to know one from the other. Bars weren’t for her. She drank at home. Alone. Most of the time she kept the curtains closed. She felt more comfortable that way.
Before Sam knew it, it was five-thirty. She left the office and stepped out into a light snowfall to go home. She drove out of her way on Wadsworth to 20th Avenue. She turned left on Glen Garry Drive and stopped just before the road bent
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