Through the Heart by Kate Morgenroth

Author:Kate Morgenroth
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.

THE INVESTIGATION

According to Practical Homicide Investigation, the duties of an investigator are as follows: Observe. Describe.

Nora

A Week Without Timothy

He didn’t come back for the whole rest of the week. And Neil took a few days off too, so I was alone in the store. Well, alone with all the customers, but I couldn’t exactly talk to the customers about this.

So I called Tammy, and she came over, and I told her what happened. She just looked at me, shook her head, and said, “I don’t know why you didn’t tell him in the first place.”

It wasn’t exactly the response I was looking for. I was looking for something more sympathetic. Don’t ask me why I thought I was going to get that from Tammy. What I loved about Tammy was that she wasn’t like that. But I somehow forgot, and so I responded by demanding, “Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“You’re not gonna put that on me—no, sir,” Tammy said shaking her head.

I tried again. “Okay, then just tell me what should I do now?”

“You’re not gonna put that one on me either,” she said. And she escaped soon after that. Tammy was not that kind of girlfriend. When it was a problem I had created by myself, she left me to solve it the same way.

I hadn’t told my sister about Timothy, so I couldn’t turn to her. The crazy thing was that the person I probably could have talked to about it most easily was Neil, and I kept waiting for him to come in, but he didn’t. And finally he called and told me that he might not be in for a few days. Neil never took that many days off, so I figured he was avoiding me too. I felt like I had the plague.

What happened was that the time alone gave me a chance to experience what life would be like after Timothy left. Maybe you think I’d know exactly what it was like because I’d been living it before. But that’s not the same at all. Before, I didn’t think I had a choice. This would be after I’d had a chance at something different and turned away.

Except Timothy hadn’t left yet. I knew because I called the motel every day to find out if he was still there. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday—no sign of him, but he was still checked in. I thought about going by his room; believe me I wanted to, but something stopped me.

Saturday, as always, I got up early to drive my mother to Kansas City, and when we got back, she retreated to her room. I tried reading a book. I tried cleaning the house. I tried playing solitaire on the computer. I couldn’t settle into anything. Finally, I gave up. I went upstairs, knocked on my mother’s bedroom door, and told her I was going out for a bit. Then I got in the car and drove to the motel Timothy was staying at, out along the highway.

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