Forget to Remember

person. Katherine was a blond beauty. She wouldn’t be difficult to spot.
    They went to the homes of the two male directors Ivan had addresses for. Both were in the affluent residential areas of Fairfax County. They parked down the street from the first house. Carol volunteered to go to the door.
    “I look more like a census taker than you do.”
    “What if Michael comes to the door?”
    “We agreed that finding him here is a long shot, but if it should happen, you’ll come running to my rescue.”
    “I’m not Superman.”
    “I want to get a good look at him. I doubt that he’s going to shoot me at his front door.”
    Carol prevailed over Ivan’s reluctance. She rang the doorbell, carrying a clipboard supplied by him, and when a woman answered, she called the woman by her last name and said she was gathering pre-census information for the two thousand ten census.
    Fortunately, the woman didn’t ask to see her badge. Carol asked how many adults and how many children lived in the house. The answer was two adults and three children. The woman was holding one of the children in her arms. Carol was able to get inside the door, and she saw a family picture in the next room that appeared to verify what the woman said. In any case, the man in the picture wasn’t Michael.
    At the second house, nobody was home, although there was a car in the driveway. Carol copied the license plate information. She went to the house next door, gave her spiel, and after the woman had told about her own family, Carol asked how many people lived in the house she had just been to. The answer was a man, a wife, and a child.
    Back in the Jeep, Carol reported to Ivan. “I’m certain Michael doesn’t live here with a wife and child since he’s never been married although, you can check the car ownership if you want to.”
    “I’ll do it just to cover all the bases. I’m sure it will show the car is owned by…” he glanced at his pad “…Stuart Jackson, the director. That won’t tell us anything new. Let’s get some lunch and figure out what we’re going to do next.”
    ***
    According to Ivan’s GPS, Katherine Simpson’s home was on a cul-de-sac at the end of a one-block street. They followed the directions of the imperious female voice, which led them to the subdivision where they cruised slowly along the street in question and spotted the roomy, two-story house with vinyl siding and many windows. The two garage doors were closed, and no cars were in the driveway.
    Ivan shook his head. “We obviously can’t park here. We’d stick out like burqa wearers at a nude beach. The highway is on the other side of that sound-suppression fence. Maybe we can come in from there.”
    Carol could hear the traffic going by on the other side of the fence. The tall wooden structure, painted brown, had been built, as Ivan said, to muffle the sound and also to isolate the residents from the rest of the world.
    They unwound their way along several streets, back to the entrance to the subdivision, and parked where the volume of traffic wouldn’t bring undue attention to the Jeep. They got out, and Ivan retrieved a small backpack from the backseat. He led the way as they walked along a combination bike path and walking path beside the highway. They were now on the other side of the fence. The noise of the almost continuous traffic made it difficult to carry on a conversation.
    Carol followed Ivan to the end of the fence. They went around it and found themselves on a bank, sloping gently downhill and overgrown with bushes and small trees. Ivan stopped behind a short bush and pointed over it.
    “That’s Katherine’s house.”
    It took Carol a few seconds to adjust to the different perspective. They were facing the side and back of the house instead of the front. However, they could see where the driveway was. Anybody coming or going would be visible to them. She was glad she was with Ivan. He was an expert at this sort of thing.
    “What do we do now?”
    Ivan grinned at her. “This is where you find out the private detective business isn’t all fun and games. We wait and see who comes and goes. If our assumption that Michael might be living with Katherine is correct, maybe he’ll show his face.”
    “Or maybe he won’t. We could be here all night.”
    “We won’t stay all night. Listen, if you want to opt out, I’ll take you back to your car and you can go to your motel.”
    “No.” Carol shook her head vigorously. “I want to