The Sun Down Motel

She spotted his car, parked in the small lot of a strip mall that had a portrait studio, a hair salon, and a closed-up dentist’s office. She zipped her coat up against the wind, dug her hands deep into the pockets, and kept walking, her eyes ahead and a small frown on her face as if she were thinking about something far away.

She couldn’t see him; she didn’t know where he’d gone. Then, with a jolt that almost startled her, she saw him only twenty feet away, ringing the doorbell of the house she was passing. The hedge had hidden him from view. His back was to her, and for a second she couldn’t help but stare at him as she walked. His body turned, and she realized he could see her reflection in the glass of the storm door. She ducked her head and darted past before he could turn and see her in full.

It was close. She quickly walked around a corner, then another. There was a bus stop with a bench and three people already waiting. Viv tugged the hat down on her forehead, sat on the bench, pulled her notebook from her purse, opened it to the blank pages in the middle, and stared at it as if reading. She kept her face relaxed even when she saw the traveling salesman come around the corner at the edge of her eye.

He paused at the head of the street and stood there, looking at the bus stop. Looking at her. He wanted to know why she had stared at him in shock as she’d walked past him, wanted to know who she was. Viv didn’t look up and she didn’t tense as he watched her. She kept her face blankly intent on her notebook and her breathing even. She knew he was hesitating, not certain he wanted to approach her at a crowded bus stop in the middle of the day.

He was still undecided when the bus pulled up. Her face still blank with boredom, Viv closed her notebook, stood in line with the others, and got on. She paid her quarter in fare and took a seat as the bus pulled away from the curb. She didn’t risk a look at him through the window.

Sloppy. He’s too smart for that. Be more careful next time.

She waited two stops—one seemed risky—and got off, circling back on foot to the place where she had seen him. This time she didn’t walk the street directly but circled behind a row of houses, where she found a walking path. She stood at the edge of the path, took out her notebook—it was useful for all sorts of things, it turned out—and fished a pencil out of her purse. She stood and faced the trees, the pencil moving over her page, so anyone out for a walk would see a pretty girl sketching a nature scene.

But in the wedge of space between two houses, she could see him. He was on the other side of the street, standing on a front porch, talking to the woman who had answered the door. Their conversation was swift and uneventful. The woman closed the door and Simon Hess pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He took out a pencil—the fact that he was now in Vivian’s own pose was not lost on her—and made a note, then looked at the page intently. He turned the page sideways and back again, and Viv realized he was looking at a map. He had a map of the neighborhood and was making sure he hit every house.

She watched as he moved to another door, and then another. A traveling salesman doing what he was hired to do, cover a neighborhood knocking on doors. After each door he took out his map and pencil and made another mark. Viv edged along the walking path, her own paper and pencil in hand, keeping him in view. He wasn’t being careful. He wasn’t looking around to see if he was being watched. He’d seen her get on the bus, and she knew she had caught the hunter in a rare slip-up. His guard was down. He hadn’t matched the girl waiting for the bus with the footprints in his garden weeks ago. She was watching him unseen.

I’ve never seen him do anything except go to work and back. You’re barking up the wrong tree, honey.

Part of her knew that anyone would think her crazy. He’s just a salesman going about his job! But he wasn’t. She knew that.

His head turned, and Viv took a step back, out of view. A man with a dog on a leash walked by, and she took her pencil to paper, sketching the trees. The man gave her a smile as he passed. “Nice day,” he said.

Viv smiled back. “Yes, it is.”

That made him smile more—men loved it when a girl smiled back at them, answered them as if whatever they’d said was the most wonderful thing. She even saw his step slow as he considered stopping and talking to her.

Move on, she thought. Move on.

The salesman could be walking away. Changing neighborhoods, maybe. Or getting back in his car.

The man’s foot paused, and then the dog pulled on his leash, barking at a squirrel. The moment broke.

“Good luck with your drawing,” the man said, following the dog and walking away.

“Thank you!” Viv said cheerfully, as if delighted he would say so. When he was a safe distance away she moved position again, looking for the salesman.

He had moved down the sidewalk and was standing with his map and pencil again. But he wasn’t looking at the map. He was standing very still, his chin raised just enough to look ahead. His gaze was fixed on something, unmoving.

Viv changed position again, trying to see what he was looking at. It was a typical quiet suburban street; a car passed in one direction, then another in the other direction. A woman stood on a driveway, bundled into a winter coat, helping her toddler onto a tricycle. An elderly man with a newspaper under his arm crossed at the end of the street.

The traveling salesman was unmoving, and something about his gaze was hard, cold. Viv moved again, trying to see.

A girl was standing on the curb several houses ahead, where the street curved, holding the handlebars of her bike. She looked about sixteen, tall and slim, wearing dark jeans and a waist-length hooded coat zipped tight. Her dark blond hair was pulled back into a careless ponytail and she wore chocolate brown mittens. She was unaware of the man looking at her. As Viv watched, the girl swung one leg over the seat of the bike and put her foot on the pedal. She adjusted her balance and pushed off in a graceful motion, putting her other foot on the pedal and powering up. She biked away, her legs pumping, her body pushed forward. After a few moments, she was gone.

Simon Hess watched her, standing on the sidewalk with his map in his hand. It flapped softly in the cold wind. The hem of his long wool coat flapped, too, the gust of November wind rolling up the street and the sidewalks.

At last, as if in slow motion, he folded the map and put it in his pocket, along with the pencil. He blinked his eyes as if waking up. Then he turned and walked toward his car.

He’s hunting, Viv thought.

She ran to her car to follow him.

* * *

• • •

An hour later, she gave up in despair. She couldn’t find the salesman’s car or the girl on the bike. She’d tried going in the direction she’d seen them go, but nothing. She’d tried the side streets to no avail. She’d ended up in downtown Plainsview, a main street with a grocery store, a diner, a hardware store, and a broken-down arcade. Simon Hess and his car were nowhere to be seen, and so was the girl.