V Is for Vengeance

name and said I’d call that night, but she said no.”
    “And when the police notified you they’d found her, what else did they say?”
    He shook his head. “Not much. I could see they were trying to be kind, but they were real tight-lipped, like I wasn’t entitled. Granted, we weren’t married, but I was engaged to the woman, and they treated me like a stranger walking in off the street. They wouldn’t have given me the time of day if I hadn’t filed a police report on Saturday.”
    “You filed a missing-person’s report the day before?”
    “It wasn’t anything official because they didn’t take me all that seriously. I expressed my concern and they took down the information, but it’s not like they put out any kind of bulletin. They said under the circumstances, they had no reason to.”
    “Is that how they knew to get in touch with you after she was found?”
    “Sure. Otherwise, I’d still be in the dark and going out of my mind. Thankfully, some bright soul put the name on the report together with the information in her purse. Her driver’s license showed a previous address, little place she rented in San Luis Obispo. The police detective contacted the north county sheriff’s department and asked ’em to send a deputy to the house. Of course, the place was all buttoned up because she’d moved in with me. She’d left most of her stuff behind except for the bare necessities. She was holding off on the change of address until we were married and then she’d take care of everything at once—you know, name change, new address, and such.”
    San Luis Obispo, an hour and a half north, is variously referred to as San Luis, S.L.O., or SLO-town. “Your daughter didn’t seem to realize you were getting married.”
    “We were keeping it under wraps. She was worried the girls would be upset so we hadn’t said anything about it.”
    “What made you file the report in the first place?”
    “I had to do something and that was the only thing I could think of. Audrey was punctual. That was her nature. Saturday morning, she went off to get her hair done as usual. I wanted her to cancel, but she started getting upset again so I backed down.
    “We had a date at one and she said she’d be home by then. She didn’t show up, which for her was unthinkable. Even five minutes late, she’d call and say where she was. She wouldn’t leave me hanging. Never in a million years.”
    “You had a date to do what?”
    “We were going out with this real estate agent friend of hers to look at houses. That’s another reason I can’t believe she’d, you know, do herself in. She was excited. She’d found some listings in the paper and Felicia, her agent friend, set up appointments to show us five or six properties. One fifteen, one thirty—no sign of Audrey and no call, so I let Felicia get on with her day, figuring she had better things to do. By three, I was down at the police station, talking to the guy at the desk.”
    “Did you think she was sick, she’d been in an accident, or what?”
    “I just knew it was bad.”
    I shifted the subject. “How long had you known her?”
    He waved as though fanning gnats away from his face. “You talked to Sabrina. She said she ran into you at the funeral home so I know where you’re going with this. The answer is seven months, give or take, which might seem hasty to some. I’m still in the house my wife and I bought back in 1953. Audrey was okay with it, but once we started getting serious, I felt like we should have a place of our own. My girls thought I was out of my mind.”
    “What sort of work did she do?”
    He shrugged. “She was in sales just like me so she traveled a lot. Maybe two and a half, three weeks out of every month. She’d put over three hundred thousand miles on her 1987 Honda. She was always on the road, which was a bit of a sore point with me. I was hoping she’d settle down. I figured a house of her own might be encouragement.”
    “What kind of sales?”
    “I’m not sure. She didn’t talk about her job. I got the impression it was soft goods. You know, clothing or something of the sort.”
    I was thinking for “soft goods” we could substitute the notion of teddies and silk pajamas, but I kept my mouth shut. “What company?”
    “No idea. She worked on commission so she was more like an independent contractor than a nine-to-five type.”
    “What about you?”
    “My job? I was a John Deere factory rep. I took early retirement.