Jessica Reilly lived next door to Carter in a similar one story home. She was an attractive brunette of about forty, wearing tight slacks, a tighter blouse, the break in the tan line of her ring finger telling me she was a recent divorcee.
She wouldn't let me inside the door when I knocked.
Reilly eyed my Levi's, button shirt, blue hooded sweatshirt, and seemed to hold me in disdain since I was soaked to the skin. I guess I didn't look like a resident from this part or at least from this street. So I stood on her terra-cotta steps while her pack of corgis jumped and yelped around me.
"Have you seen Carter O'Hara recently?" I asked.
"No. I don't think so."
"Have you seen anyone hanging around or driving by who may have seemed out of place in the neighborhood?" I asked my second question.
"Lacey! Shut up! No I don't think so, no."
"Any kids or cars that don't belong here?"
No.
And now she was asking questions. "Had Carter gone missing?"
I said, "No." At least I hoped not. And then I told her that I was conducting an investigation and handed her my card incase she spotted anything - but that was the extent of what I told her. No use in going into detail about how Carter was sleeping with another guy.
I asked her to keep my visit confidential and she promised and that was her final word. She opened her door, let in the pack, the closed it firmly behind her, locks and bolts clicking into place.
I hurried back to my car, cast one last look at Carter's house. The living room was now occupied by the teenage kid I talked to earlier. He was still wearing his white beater and gym shorts.
I opened the door to my car and slid behind the wheel. I drove off wondering what to do next. After ten minutes of cruising I found myself in the parking lot of my apartment building. The building and the lot were sterile in the summer rain. Brick and macadam unsoftened by summer shrubbery. Leaden sky, dark enough for the streetlights to blink on, despite the fact that it wasn't even noon.
I got out of the car and walked head down to the building's back entrance, pushed through the double glass doors and was grateful for the sudden warmth.
I stepped into the elevator and punched the button for the eighth floor, wondering what I'd missed in my search for Carter. Usually something popped up in the initial investigation...in this instance a boyfriend, but he wasn't about to bend and tell me information.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked the short distance down the hall, planning out phone calls. I could check on Carter's back account to see if there were any recent withdrawals. I could check his credit rating. Sometimes a credit check turned up hidden problems. I could run down utilities accounts on a possible second home. I could call Jeanne Ryan, who knew everything about everyone in this area.
I unlocked my apartment door, stepped into the quiet foyer and took stock of my apartment. There were no lights blinking on my answering machine. Dirty laundry was still hanging around, but now that I did not have any visitors it was pointless to pick it up.
I tossed the strangers underwear onto my counter and draped my jacket over a chair. I poured some milk and made myself a peanut butter sandwich on a bagel.
I took all this, plus my phone, to the living room couch and flipped on the TV. The call to Jeanne could wait, I decided, tossing my phone on the coffee table. Twenty minutes into a rerun of Law & Order, my bagel was gone and I was contemplating what life would be like if all crimes would be solved within an hour like they were on television. I sure as hell wouldn't be battling an oncoming headache if that were the case.
It was approaching one o'clock. I still had the whole day ahead of me to hunt down the bugger Carter. So I resorted to doing what any twenty-eight year old male would do during his involuntary hiatus from sexual activities: masturbation.
It is a habit I have adopted daily recently with my sex life on hold for no apparent reason. I was hard before I even got my jeans unbuttoned. I lifted the waist band of my boxer briefs and saw my hard penis with the head pointing up towards me. I lowered the waist band so that it fell right beneath my testicles. I was free.
But at the same time I felt a little disenchanted. Here I was twenty-eight years old getting satisfaction through heavily beating away, while other people around my age, like Carter, were moving through lovers faster than I could rub.
Moments that took place in the bedroom down the hall flashed through my mind - then the dream I was having this morning that Lucy yanked me out of materialized in my mind - forcing me to suck in breath as my knees buckled and cum spewed out onto my stomach at the very end I released a moan, with my head back.
And just as quickly as it began, it was over.
I was left on my back, breathing heavily, staring down at the mess on my chest. The white glob began to run slowly downward along my chest. I let it go, watching as it dripped onto the couch.
I fixed my underwear back into place, but left my jeans down. I rolled over - still a bit hard, softening by the second - and reached for the phone and dialed Jeanne.
"Ian!" she exclaimed. "It's been awhile! What have you been up to lately?"
I briefly looked down at the remnants of cum and amused myself with the thought of telling her the truth. "Just getting around," I said lamely.
"So what can I do for you?"
"What can you tell me about Carter O'Hara?"
"Lucy's ex-husband?"
Gossip travels quickly. "Yes," I said.
"Only what I heard from the grapevine that he's cheating on her with a man and Lucy is currently pinning the separation on the fact that their jobs keep them apart."
"There must be something. Haven't you heard any other rumors?"
"Do you care if they're true?"
"Not at all."
Jeanne sighed. "So, in other words, you're looking for unsubstantiated dirt."
"Exactly."
Silence.
"Well?" I asked.
"Mary Ann, you know she works at the beauty shop, says she has cut Carter's hair and that he always seemed sketchy to her." There was a pause where she reflected on her own words. "Not much of a rumor, but if you pay Mary Ann a visit she may have some stories to tell you."
After I talked to Jeanne I carted my dishes back to the kitchen and thought about visiting Mary Ann. I really had no other choice - short of revisiting Carter's home, which wasn't exactly on my priority list after the run in with the teenager. That had been a mistake. Should Carter return (and I hope he did, because I was not fond of going on a manhunt for him) the kid may start blabbing about my visit, which would get Carter suspicious and then he would flee.
So either way this manhunt seemed inevitable.
Still soaked from the rain - I chanted Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day. But the rain didn't go away, so I revisited my dresser, stripped down, and even changed my underwear. I zippered up in new Levi's, threw on a Rangers jersey and a windbreaker.
For lack of something better to do, I took myself down to the beauty shop Mary Ann worked at. It was located in the center of town and had the name 'Curl up and Dye' over the door.
I paralleled park and scurried across the street, dodging the rain. The ringing bell announced my arrival. Immediately I was hit with the stench of excessive hairspray, the sound of light music, and hairdryers on maximum. A few women were sitting around in chairs flipping through gossip magazines.
As a man, I looked slightly out of place. Nevertheless, I strolled up to the desk, adjusting my jacket and providing a smile.
"Hello," the lady behind the desk smiled, chewing on her gum.
I leaned forward. "You wouldn't happen to know if Mary Ann is in today?"
She dropped her eyes to the desk calendar. "Did you want to make an appointment? She's free at..."
I cut across her. "No, no, I just needed to talk with her."
"Let me see if I can grab her."
The greeter left the desk and headed for the back of the shop where she disappeared behind a set of curtains, shortly returning with a brunette on her tail.
"Mary Ann, this gentleman was hoping to have a word with you."
I quickly sized up Mary Ann. I never properly met her. She was the typical hairdresser who seemed to continuously experiment with hairstyles. Today her dark brown hair was in bouncy curls, her brown eyes behind a pair of sleek glasses that added youth to her age which I guessed to be around early forties. She was dressed in good slacks and a button shirt that partly revealed her cleavage and had the store's name embroidered in the upper left corner of the shirt.
"Mary Ann, I'm..."
"Ian Conklin," she finished my sentence, shaking my extended hand. "I know - Lucy has talked about you. I'm about to catch some lunch - if you join we can chat about why you came here."
A block away we stopped at Larry's. Larry's was a local hangout. Partly because it was centrally located, and Larry's was in a convenient location. Partly because Larry was well respected in town. And partly because the pizza was top of the line. Lots of cheese and grease, a little tomato sauce and great crust. Nobody cared that the roaches in the kitchen were as big as barn cats.
Mary Ann and I placed our order for a cheese pizza a draft beer, and sat in a corner booth.
"Let me guess," she said, accepting the beer from the waitress. "You've had a bad day."
I made a so-so gesture with my hand.
"Anybody would be having a bad day if they were hunting down a creep like Carter. Do you mind..." her voice drifted off as she gestured towards the cigarette in her hand.
I shook my head, no.
Mary Ann lit up and took a drag. "Anyway, I don't have much discriminating rumors on Carter. He never discussed his sex life with me - wouldn't expect him to either. For fuck sakes, I was just his hairdresser, but regardless, you'd be surprise how much you get out of clients. You know - small chit-chat, they let a lot slip."
My mind was racing - trying to keep up with Mary Ann's fast pace.
"Anyway," she continued, "the ladies absolutely adored Carter whenever he came in to get his hair cut - one of the few males to walk into our place. Never knew he was more into men. I guess it goes to show you never truly know a person. I should have known about his attraction to men."
"Why do you say that?" I prompted.
Mary Ann waved her cigarette dismissively in the air. "There used to be this teenage kid - the only other male who came to us. He and Carter were sometimes getting their haircut at the same time."
I sat up slightly, my interest peeked. "Did they arrive together?"
She shook her head. "I don't think they even knew each other - but I once caught Carter throwing this almost flirtatious smile towards the kid. It caught me off guard, but I shrugged it off thinking, 'This man is married and a good husband!'"
"Do you remember what this kid looked like?"
Mary Ann scrunched up her face in contemplation. "Only the fact that he was around nineteen or so, blonde hair, maybe, or was it brown? I never cut his hair so I'm not too sure, but Georgina would know."
I secretly let out an exasperated sigh. I was tired of hoping around playing twenty questions and getting no where. Nevertheless, I added Georgina to my list. Right now - I needed all the information I could get.
"By the way," Mary Ann said, making room for the pizza. "This beer I had is just between you and me. My boss wouldn't be any too happy."
"Deal - as long as you keep this conversation between us."
"Deal."
Georgina was more helpful than I expected. While in the middle of cutting a woman's hair she began talking to me - confirming the physical attributes of the teenage kid I saw at Carter's house: eighteen or nineteen, brown shaggy hair, had a 'punk-ass' attitude. At the end I thanked her, gave her my card, requesting she contact me if she finds out more, then I departed.
The rain had let up some, but it was still dismal enough to keep my spirits down. I knew what I had to do now and that was to return to Carter's place and just keep on eye on it. My job was to watch him, but for Christ's sake I couldn't even find him.
I decided it would be a mistake to return in my jeep as it is already known by the kid and Mrs. Reilly and maybe to others. So that really left me with no other option - I didn't want to be spotted in my jeep - so a short fifteen minutes later I parked at the curb and looked at the familiar narrow two-story duplex with its front porch and aluminum awnings.
My mother was at the open screen door. "Ian," she called. "What are you doing sitting out there in your car? Come in - or you'll catch pneumonia."
I let out a deep sigh, preparing myself.