Subj: What Could Have Been part 3/?
Date: 12/22/99 10:38:59 PM Central Standard Time
From: Kim D
The next thing Vicki did was to stop at the morgue to inquire about the dead man. “Yes, we had a murder victim come in during the night,” she was told after she inquired about recent deaths.
“What can you tell me about it?” Vicki asked.
“We were able to identify him as Grant Hindricks. He died of two puncture wounds to the neck. He was found in the woods to the west of the old Collins house.”
“Grant Hindricks,” she repeated. “That name doesn’t sound familiar. Where is he from?”
“New York. I have an address here if you would like it.” The man that she was talking to copied down an address for her, which she gratefully took.
“Do you know who found him?”
“His wife phone in the murder, but no one has found any trace of her, or even knows who she is.”
“Thank you,” she said as she turned to leave. “You’ve helped me a great deal.”
That afternoon she cought a train to New York. The train ride gave her plenty of time to think. Her thoughts drifted back to Barnabas and the kiss. It had been so unexpected that she hadn’t had time to think about resisting. It had held more passion and brought out more emotion in her than any she had had before. She inventively thought of Peter. She still missed him, but even he had not been able to bring out such a response in her. She fell asleep like that, thinking of Barnabas.
The next day found her in New York standing in the
living room of the small apartment which belonged to Grant Hindricks. The landlord
had been willing to let her in when he found out that Grant was dead. Vicki
moved from room to room of the small apartment. She first noticed the left over
take out food in the kitchen and the single toothbrush in the bathroom. He didn’t
live like someone who was married, she thought. She entered the bedroom and
opened the closet doors. Men’s clothes.
Nothing here looked as though it could belong a woman. Had he been separated
from his wife? On the top shelf of the closet sat two shoeboxes. She lifted
the first one down, and opened it to reveal pictures. Most of the pictures looked
several years old. Someone had carefully labeled most of them across the back.
They were all relatives, aunts and uncles, a brother, and a few pictures of
his parents. She replaced the first shoebox and lifted the second one down.
She took the lid off the second box and found a small spiral notebook. She lifted
it out and screamed at what she found beneath it. It was a face of woman bloody
and brused as she lay dead. Beneath it lay more pictures; they were photos of
a crime scene. She turned to the first page of the spiral notebook. It was dated
for a month ago. On the first page Grant appeared to have wrote a reminder to
himself. It read “Call 555-4862. Joe has a lead. She won’t get away from me.”
She turned the page and found that it was dated for last week. It only had a
list of towns on it. “Laharbra, Maryland Wittacer, Vermont Collinsport, Maine”
She made her way back to the living room and sat down at a desk, not sure what she was looking for. She picked up a stack of mail from the top of the desk and sorted through it, bills and a letter from a man in Boston. She opened the first drawer of the desk and found pictures. They were all of an unknown man and the woman from the crime scene photos. Neither of them looked familiar. This couldn’t be Grant’s wife, could it? She was the supposed to be one who had called the police about his death. As she looked deeper in the drawer she found a newspaper clipping. As she picked it up a name seemed to stand out. It looked familiar. Then it occurred to her that although the name was a little different, that this was someone she knows.
She was so absorbed in her findings that she didn’t notice the door quietly open and close or the soft footsteps behind her. Then she felt a sudden pain in the back of her head.