Silent Fall

on. Hopefully she’s home. Are you still up for it?"
    "Absolutely." Catherine felt a tingle of excitement at the challenge ahead of her.
    "Make sure you push as much as you can. Ask her about Erica’s male friends, her finances, visitors to her house, and her family. Don’t let her sidestep the questions."
    "I won’t."
    "What exactly are you going to say?"
    "I’ll figure that out when she answers the door." She could see by Dylan’s disgruntled face that he wasn’t happy with her answer.
    "You have to have a plan of attack," he said. "Maybe I should do it."
    "I can handle it. Trust me."
    "All right," he said slowly. "I guess I’ll wait down at the corner at the Java Hut."
    "Order me some tea and maybe some for yourself. You are way too wound up." She gave him a gentle push.
    "You and your damn tea," he grumbled as he stomped off, looking decidedly younger and sprier than his clothing suggested. So much for staying in character.
    Deciding it was time to change her look, Catherine pulled off her scarf and her coat, tossing them over one arm as she knocked on Joanna’s door. She wanted to look more like a peer of Erica’s than her maiden aunt.
    A moment later a striking blonde with long legs and big boobs opened the door. She was dressed in a jean miniskirt and a bright red tank top that showed off her cleavage. Dylan would have died and gone to heaven, Catherine thought. He was really going to be sorry he’d given her this job.
    "Yes?" the woman asked.
    "Are you Joanna?"
    "Who wants to know?"
    "I’m Catherine, a friend of Erica’s," she replied. "I went to high school with her, and I came up from Bakersfield to visit her, but she’s not answering the door, and I’ve been waiting over an hour. I was wondering if you know where she is. She mentioned you were one of her friends."
    "Yes," Joanna said, her wary expression softening somewhat. "But I don’t know where she is or why she’d have you meet her tonight. She told me she was going out of town when I ran into her the other day. She said she needed a break before the trial starts in a couple of weeks."
    "Right, the trial," Catherine echoed. "Erica told me she’s been really stressed about that, but she never mentioned leaving town. Do you know where she would have gone? I’d really like to find her. I’m very concerned about her. She hasn’t been herself lately. You don’t have a key to her place, do you?"
    Joanna stiffened. "I can’t let you in. I don’t know you."
    "Of course you don’t," Catherine said with a reassuring smile, realizing she’d moved a bit too fast. "Maybe you could go in and just see if she left any brochures out or reservation confirmations on a notepad or anything like that." She paused, trying to sound like a worried friend. "I guess I could go to the police and ask them. Maybe they could get the key from you."
    She could see by the sudden light that passed through Joanna’s eyes that the last thing she wanted was the police at her door.
    "No, don’t do that," Joanna said. "I guess I could check her place. Hang on a second." She walked over to a table in her entryway and took some keys out of a drawer. She pulled her own door shut and then led Catherine to Erica’s condo.
    Catherine would have preferred to go in alone, but at least she was getting in. That was something. She felt a jolt of adrenaline as Joanna opened the door. With any luck Catherine could find a clue to Erica’s whereabouts. Her optimism faded as she took in the state of the apartment, the upturned laundry basket on the living room couch, the open door to the hall closet revealing empty hangers. She had the feeling Erica had packed up and left in a hurry.
    She walked over to the couch and picked up a white jean jacket that had been left behind. An image flashed in her head, taking her back into the past.
    She dug through the laundry basket, slipping her hand into the pocket of every pair of pants, every coat. It was gone. Panic ran through her. She couldn’t have lost it. Then relief washed away the fear as her fingers closed around the cool metal. She pulled out the key. Attached to the ring was a small piece of paper and the numbers 374. Scribbled in ink were the directions: right after the bridge, left on Falcon, pink flowers in the window box. She would be safe there. No one would find her. She would be free to start again.
    Catherine blinked as