Read Online Somebody I Used to Know by David Bell - Free Book Online Page B

mind’s eye, sitting at a table, her hand entwined with that of an older man. Handsome. Graying. Distinguished.
    Who the hell was he? And why was he haunting my imagination twenty years later?
    “I’m working,” I said.
    “Are you hungry?” Laurel asked.
    “Kind of. Do you want to go to lunch?”
    “Meet me out front in ten.”
    She hung up.
    *   *   *
    Laurel drove away from downtown, and we headed east toward the interstate, passing restaurants on every block. Seventies music played on the car stereo, and Laurel hummed along with it, her head bobbing slightly. Then she entered an on-ramp.
    “Do I get to know where we’re going?” I asked.
    “I’ve been thinking of you.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Seriously,” she said, turning the music down. “We’ve been friends a long time. I hated to see the way you looked yesterday when we were talking about Marissa and that guy in the bar. I know it hurts, even after all these years.”
    “You were right to tell me.”
    “But I hated to do it.” She reached over and patted my knee. “You’re a good guy. You deserve good things. And I know what you need.”
    “Can you really tell me what I need?” I asked. “I’ve been trying to figure that out for years.”
    “By the way, did you call the lawyer? Mick Brosius?”
    “I did,” I said.
    “What did he say?”
    “He seemed like a nice guy,” I said. “Kind of young. I met with him this morning, and he looked like he should be in high school.”
    She flicked the blinker on and changed lanes. “You’re getting old. What did he tell you?”
    “He said to keep my mouth shut and not speak to the police unless he was there,” I said. “Then he told me not to worry. I always worry when people tell me not to worry.”
    “Just listen to him,” she said. “Do what he says.”
    Traffic was light, the lanes ahead clear. “You said you were thinking of me? And you know what I need?”
    “Yes,” she said. “You need proof. Once and for all you need proof that the part of your life involving Marissa is over. That’s what we’re doing today.”
    “We’re not going to a cemetery to dig her up, are we?” I asked.
    Laurel turned her head a little, giving me a look that said she didn’t share my sense of humor. So I remained quiet. I knew Laurel well enough to know that when she set her mind to something, she finished the task. She would have been an excellent life coach or drill instructor. So she made a dogged investigator, and I just sat back and let her drive me to whatever she had in mind.
    We went two exits and ended up in a modest subdivision six miles from Eastland. The houses looked to be about twenty years old and smaller than the new ones being built even farther out. Laurel’s GPS told her where to turn, and we parked in front of a home with white siding and black shutters. An Ohio State flag fluttered limply in the light breeze. The yard was immaculately cared for, even in late winter. So much so I wondered if someone came out and painted the grass green once a week.
    Laurel turned the car off, but we didn’t get out.
    “Is my lunch inside?” I asked.
    “I still have a lot of contacts with the police, as you know,” she said.
    “I remember your days as a cop.”
    “I got the name of the detective who investigated the fire. He’s retired now, but he agreed to talk to us.”
    “I don’t need to do this.”
    “If you have any questions, you can ask him. He’s sharp.”
    “Look.” I reached over and rested my hand on her arm. “I appreciate this. I really do. You’ve always been a good friend. But I don’t need to do this.” I saw a small coffee splash on my pants leg, and I scratched it off with my fingernail. “I know I said some crazy things yesterday. I implied that Emily might be my child. I don’t really think that. I was sad and feeling sorry for myself. I don’t need to rehash this. Can you just call this old guy and let him get back to his retirement? I’ll buy you