Traces of the Past by Steve Laracy

Author:Steve Laracy
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Humor, nostalgia, Offbeat, suspense, private detective, private Investigator, desert
ISBN: 9781620060650
Publisher: Milford House Press
Published: 2019-05-31T22:00:00+00:00

> CHAPTER 21

ANNIE WEBSTER

Annie Webster lived in a trailer park outside of town. Leaving Bell City and continuing on Main Street in the opposite direction from which I entered, I traveled about five miles, passing an occasional small house but not much else until arriving at the Shady Acres Trailer Park. If you think this sounds more like a cemetery than a trailer park, the Shady Acres Cemetery was right across the street.

I turned left and located Annie’s double-wide at the back of the park. I knocked on the door and Annie answered within a minute. She was holding a small child and was followed by a shaggy white dog of medium size.

Annie opened the door and talked to me through the screen.

“Can I help you?” she asked uncertainly, the way you do when a stranger shows up at your door. You don’t want to help this person you don’t know, and you have no reason to, but you can’t think of anything better to say.

“My name is Milo Forbes. I’m the new sheriff in Cordoba,” I said. “How are you holding up?”

“All right, I guess,” she said, but the dark circles and numb look in her eyes said otherwise. “Come on in.”

She held the screen door and I followed her into the trailer. She turned and looked at me with some suspicion, and the baby and dog both stared at me with the same wary look.

“I saw you at the fair yesterday. I didn’t know Cordoba had a sheriff,” she said but she didn’t ask for identification.

“I started yesterday. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“You picked a hell of a day to start,” Annie said, half laughing and half crying. “Care for a cup of coffee?”

“If it’s no trouble.”

“I’ve got some brewing. I’ll be right back.”

Annie put the baby in the playpen and headed for the kitchen. She was a slight, pretty girl with short blond hair, darker at the roots. I guessed she was in her mid-twenties, though her weary appearance made her look older. I got the feeling that the numbness of her expression was not wholly caused by Billy’s death but also from trying to survive in a harsh climate in a small town with few prospects.

The trailer was furnished cheaply, but the place was neat and clean. I took a seat at a small dining room table. The baby and the dog were still staring at me when Annie returned with the coffee.

“Milk or sugar?” she asked as she placed the mug in front of me.

“No thanks. Black is fine.”

Before I could say anything, Annie said, “If you’re here about Billy, I don’t know how much I can help you. You saw as much as I did.”

“Just tell me a little bit about Billy.”

“Not much to tell. We both grew up in Chiquita. Got married after high school and moved to Bell City. Billy’s had odd jobs to make a living. He worked at Harry’s garage a little and over at the airport. I work as a waitress and we pretty much just manage—managed—to make ends meet.

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