Smiling Madonna - Chapter Thirteen

about me being
perhaps the
real target of
the attack

“Yes, well, it was a very interesting place, very attentive care-taker,” explained George, “but unfortunately he had to help us a lot. A pump off the basement bathroom acted up and a plumber had to come out and deal with it. Then today, as we were packing up, we found the two right tires deflated.”
“That’s… interesting, isn’t it,” offered Travis with no real understanding of how this could happen.
“Yes, it is…”
“How do you imagine it happened?” asked Travis.
“I have no idea,” said George. “The community is divided about what it means. Two of us think it’s nothing to be concerned about – just a coincidence that two tires went flat on our rental vehicle. Two of us think it’s actually something that is part of something related to the murder. We have a case number to give to the Seattle PD.”
Travis agreed that was a good idea and he and George hung up, to go take care of things in their respective areas of responsibility. George first phoned Officer Chang and left a message, then called someone he hadn’t been in touch with for four years.

Tuesday, the day of the morning meeting about scheduling cars and visitations, George had gone to walk George and Kenya at the Simpson house and talked with Sheila briefly.
“George, Travis told me something that is very disturbing,” said Sheila.
“Yes. You mean about me being perhaps the real target of the attack in your… I’m sorry, in your garage.” George choked out the last words, realizing that he was afraid, but also that all this was happening at Sheila’s home. Taking another look at Sheila, George saw the statuesque older woman’s eyes a little more red around the edges, and more tension in her hands which were just beginning to fight arthritis.
“I’m sorry Sheila. I apologize. I think I have been treating this a bit too pastorally – like just another concern and I haven’t connected up what this all means for me, much less for you and your house and your home.”
Sheila and George had been standing outside on concrete path between the empty autumn garden and dog run and the house. The path to the garage broke away fro the one they were on just a couple paces away.
Sheila asked George, “Did you know I’ve had someone over or I have gone out every evening since the murder?”
“No, I hadn’t realized that,” answered George quietly.
“I find I have used my coupons at many places over the intervening month and I have a vacancy this Wednesday. Would there be any chance I could come by for a meal that evening? I know it is typically your community night, but I wonder if I might impose on you this week.”
“I will have to ask the other men, but I think that this week we could do something. You are not everyone by any means! I’ll ask this morning and get back to you later today. Is that alright?” said George.

At the meeting, all four men were requesting a car on the Thursday. When they realized this they each both argued for their priority and began trying to figure out alternative methods. George was one of the first to say he really needed to use a car, since he had an appointment on Mercer Island in the morning. Eventually, the biggest fight was between Jack and Stephen over who needed to come pick the other up from one thing to go to the next, which in Seattle, is partly about parking and partly about cross town travel. Both grown men agreed to make it happen smoothly. Tim agreed to take the bus over to the university district if George could pick him up at 1:30 to make his downtown meeting at 2pm.
Later that day, George was on his way over to the bank to withdraw some money for the community purse. When he drove by the Green Café for a cup of coffee he realized he had forgotten his wallet at the house. Turning the truck around at the first opportunity, George saw a blue Toyota slow down and pull over to let him complete his u-turn at a four-way stop near Stone Way. Passing again by the Green Café, he realized that the blue Toyota was behind him again, going back the exact opposite direction they had each been traveling moments before.
The cool air blowing from the air vent in the truck felt suddenly cold as it blew over George’s neck and lip. Not really noticing, he turned the fan to low, and drove slowly back towards the house. There are really three ways to get back to the community house from this point. One passes Sheila Simpson’s house, the other goes around near the church, and another goes on the main road around the lake, then cuts back a little.
George second guessed himself several times, then he chose the third option. If someone was following him they would reveal it clearly by going the third way. It was not the way he normally went for all kinds of reasons. He drove on, reaching over to the radio, to turn off the Kate Bush song that had been in heavy rotation lately.
Slowing down at the corner, to get a better look at the blue car in the rear view mirror, George thought he saw someone inside that he vaguely recognized, but couldn’t place. The blue car made the same turn and then at the first street made a left turn again.
Was the car following him? Or was it a coincidence, maybe him turning around jogged someone else’s memory. Perhaps they had forgotten something as well. It could have happened that way.

band names: dip llama