S Is for Silence

“What was she doing?”
    “I didn’t see her. Just the Bel Air. I figured she was having car trouble…like maybe she’d run out of gas…but I didn’t give a shit. I thought, she’s so smart, let her figure it out herself. Later, when I heard she was gone, I should have mentioned it to the cops. At first, I didn’t think it was relevant, and later, I worried it would look like I’d had something to do with it.”
    “‘It’?”
    “Whatever happened to her.”
    “Why you?”
    “For obvious reasons. I’d lost my job because of her and I was pissed off.”
    “Weird. If she’d run out of gas, you’d think the pump jockey would have seen her at the station again.”
    “Well, yeah. I thought maybe somebody else had seen the car, but nobody ever said. It was way out in the boonies, but I still can’t believe I was the only one who spotted it. When the sheriff’s department didn’t come up with anything, I decided to leave it alone.”
    “And you’ve never told anyone?”
    “Kathy,” he said. “This was after we were married. I don’t believe in couples keeping secrets and it bothered me a lot. So one night I’d had too much to drink and I blurted it out. She didn’t think it was a big deal. She told me to forget about it and that’s what I did. The detective had already talked to me a couple of times, same way he was talking to everyone else, but he never asked when I’d seen her last and I didn’t volunteer.”
    “And the car was just sitting there?”
    “Right. Maybe fifteen, twenty yards off the side of the road. I could see it in my headlights, plain as day.”
    “You’re sure it was hers?”
    “Positive. There was only one like it in the county. She’d been driving it around since the minute Foley gave it to her. Absolutely, it was hers.”
    “Had she had a flat tire?”
    “That’s possible. I didn’t see a flat, but it could have been that. Could have been anything.”
    “Was the engine idling or off?”
    “Off and the headlights were off. The road was really rough, and I’d slowed to a stop, intending to turn around. That’s when I saw the car. I rolled down the window and looked out, but everything was still as stone. I actually sat there a couple of minutes, but nothing happened, so I said to hell with it and went back the way I’d come.”
    “Could she have stopped to let the dog out?”
    “I didn’t see the dog. At the time, it didn’t occur to me there was anything creepy going on. Now, I don’t know.”

14
    Winston drove us to the location on New Cut Road where he’d seen Violet’s car. I wanted to take a look at the spot but didn’t intend to press the point since he was due back at work.
    He laughed when I expressed my concern. “Don’t sweat it. Chet won’t fire me. I’m the schmuck who pays his daughter’s bills.”
    He took Highway 166 east out of Cromwell and after three miles, turned right onto New Cut Road, which was laid out on a diagonal that intersected Highway 1 to the south. Before September of 1953, when New Cut was finished, drivers were forced to go miles out of their way when heading from Santa Maria to Silas, Arnaud, or Serena Station. The old Tanner homestead appeared, its Tudor façade jarring now that I saw it again. The acreage across the road had been planted and harvested, leaving a pale haze of wispy stalks interspersed with lush weeds.
    Winston pulled into the Tanner driveway and we got out. I left my shoulder bag in the car but carried the map with me.
    “Somewhere along in here,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “I remember the heavy equipment and big mounds of dirt. The road was being graded, and there was this line of big orange cones and a temporary barricade across the unpaved portion to discourage through traffic, not that there was much. Now that I’m looking at it though, it’s hard to pinpoint the spot.”
    He crossed the road and I followed, watching as he pivoted. He walked backward for a few steps, trying to get his bearings. “I didn’t realize the road ran so close to the Tanner property. I’m almost sure the barrier was off in that direction, like a big detour, but I might be wrong.”
    I said, “Maybe it’s like a house under construction. When all you have is the slab, the rooms seem so small. Then the walls go up and everything suddenly looks much bigger.”
    He smiled. “Right. I never have figured out how that works. You’d think it’d be the other way around.”
    “Any chance you passed her