Page 28 of The Neighbor
So now all I have to do is find out everything there is to know about her. What I know so far isn’t much. Her name is Sara. She’s sleeping with Jared and likely broke up his marriage the other day, not that he wasn’t the main problem in the first place. She runs every morning with him.
But now that he’s moved out of his house, is that still the case? And is she married too? That would make letting poor suddenly homeless Jared stay at her place difficult.
I sit down at my desk and read through an email thanking me for my timely work on that job I nearly messed up. I can’t let that happen again. Studying my neighbors is all well and good, but my job keeps me fed and housed. I need to remember that always.
Since I made sure to catch up on all of my jobs after I realized I almost botched my reputation the other day, I’m free to do some research of my own. First, I want to find out if there’s ever been a Caroline Townsend who lived in Frederick. Initially, I felt overjoyed that she let that tidbit about her past slip, but now that I think about it, I have a sense that I won’t find a damn thing when I narrow my search to that city.
Caroline Townsend isn’t her real name. At least, it isn’t the name I need to find out who she truly is. That in itself tells me she’s concealing something big, and my gut says she isn’t going under a fake name to avoid having some ex find her. No, she’s too strong for that whole abused woman hiding from an awful ex-husband or boyfriend routine. That kind of strength can’t be faked.
No, she’s using a different name to avoid having people find out who she really is because of something she’s done. Just what that something is I’ve yet to unearth, but I’m not giving up.
I do my best search for Caroline Townsend in Frederick, but as I expected, I come up with nothing. Even when I expand my search to fifty miles in each direction outside the city I still find not a single mention of her.
Frustrated, I switch gears and focus on Sara, my new favorite girl. I know she lives a street over from Park Circle, but other than that, she’s a blank canvas. I could ask Kimmy about her. I bet she could give me a bunch of details about her, but I don’t want to arouse suspicion. Better to go about this a far more subtle way.
Looks like I’m going to need a new pair of running shoes and some running clothes for tomorrow morning.
Six o’clock a.m. comes earlier thanI remember, and when the alarm goes off, I sit bolt upright in bed, sure the house is on fire. Still mostly asleep, I slam my hand down on my phone to stop that ridiculous chiming noise and collapse back down onto the bed.
A few minutes is all it takes for me to remember why I set that damn alarm in the first place. I need to go running this morning and hopefully meet up with Sara. As I scrub the last of the sleep from my eyes, I can’t help but think I’ve done some pretty odd things to get close to people, but this is the strangest. I’m not an athlete. I don’t think I’ve run more than a few steps to catch an elevator since high school.
It can’t be helped, though. If I want to get close to Sara, I need to go where she goes, and for now, the only place I know she can be found is running early in the morning. I’ve seen her and Jared out jogging by seven o’clock, so that’s the time I’ll be out in the street too.
Hopefully, the temperature isn’t too high, or my neighbors might find me melted in a puddle before this run is over. Nothing like setting out on a new exercise adventure during a heatwave.
I throw my legs off the side of the bed as recriminations fill my brain. Yes, I could find out about her by asking the neighborhood town crier Kimmy, but that could result in my being in a compromising position once Sara goes missing. It’s going to be bad enough having the cops question me because someone sees me running with her. I don’t need Kimmy offering up chapter and verse on me too.
So off I go running at the crack of dawn.
By the time I get dressed and ready to go, I’m wide awake, but just to make sure I can keep up with her, I down a cup of coffee like I’m a college frat boy slamming shots. Hopefully, the caffeine will get into my bloodstream fast enough so I have the energy for this.
Standing in my kitchen, I glance up at the clock and see it’s nearly seven. Time to go meet destiny.
I lock my front door and take off down the street, instantly hating the very idea of running. My feet are already killing me, and I haven’t even made it a full block. That’s what I get for wearing brand new running shoes. I’m in decent shape without doing any of this nonsense, but every inch of me feels like it’s being shifted with every time my feet hit the ground. Worst of all, these running shorts the guy at the sporting goods store swore would be great make me feel like I’m completely exposed to the world.
Putting all that out of my head, I focus on my ultimate goal as I run toward the end of the street to head toward where Sara lives. On my way, I see Caroline come out on her porch with a cup of coffee. Dressed in a pair of light blue shorts and a white T-shirt, she looks so comfortable, and I’m instantly jealous.
She gives me a strange look when I wave as I pass by. Probably didn’t think I was a runner. Or maybe she knows I’m not and wonders what the hell I’m doing out at this time of the morning dressed in this ridiculous clothes.
Add that to the reasons why I’m going to kill Sara. If she didn’t deserve it before this morning, she certainly deserves what’s coming to her now.
By the time I reach the corner of my street, my thighs feel like they’re burning from the inside out. I can only imagine what this would feel like if I was truly out of shape. As it is, I’m merely out of practice since I haven’t exercised in ages.
I glance back and see Caroline watching me intently. Interesting. I wonder why she’s so fixated on me this morning.
Unfortunately, I can’t find out since I need to locate Sara. I look at my watch and see it’s five after seven. Assuming she’s still doing her morning run now that Jared had to move out of his house, she should be around here somewhere.
By the time I reach her street just under a minute later, I’m right on time to see her just leaving her house. White with grey shutters, it doesn’t look as impressive as any of the homes on Park Circle. Not that Meadow Circle, her cul-de-sac, isn’t nice, but there’s a noticeable drop in luxury between the two areas.
She wears a pair of black running shorts and a white tank top that hugs her body. Her face isn’t much to look at normally, but this morning I don’t think she has a stitch of makeup on her, so she seems downright pasty. With her dirty blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail on the top of her head, she reminds me of one of those workout women my mother used to watch when I was little. They always wore some brightly colored headbands too, unlike Sara today.
Her purple and orange sneakers stand out and remind me of something a young child might color. They’re garish and ugly, but I bet she’s more comfortable in them than I am in my running shoes. For a moment, envy fills my mind, but I push that emotion away, forcing myself to focus on my task at hand this morning.
Sara sees me and waves in that ridiculous way she waved to everyone at the party. She looks like some kind of nervous thing unable to control the movement of her hand when she does that. I bet she thinks it looks cute.
It doesn’t. It just looks spastic, like a cheerleader who’s had too much sugar for the day.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were a runner!” she calls out in a chipper voice.