Unlovely (47 page)

"Thank you so much!" the
stranger said, some measure of anxiety melting from her face. "But don't
worry about taking your keys. We'll just take my car. I'm probably blocking
yours in anyway."

Susan looked over the woman's shoulder
at the small car parked in the driveway. "No, let's take mine. I can pull
right around you." She saw her visitor open her mouth in protest, but she
cut her off. "I have an SUV. I'm not sure you could fit a really big dog
in your back seat. Plus, I've got blankets and stuff in the back that I use for
Guinness and Scotch. No point in ruining your upholstery."

Susan saw the crestfallen expression on
the woman's emaciated face and felt bad for her. "Listen, you couldn't
help it. It was an accident. It's not like you hit him on purpose, and you did
the right thing coming here for help. We'll do what we can for him."

The stranger gave a weak smile and
leaned against the door frame as Susan sat on the bottom stair to put on her
shoes.

"Was it by any chance a black dog with
a big white mark on its chest?"

"Yeah," came the mumbled
answer. "Yes, that sounds right."

"I was afraid of that. I keep
telling the
Richardsons
that they need to keep an eye
on Diesel.  I bet it's him.  To be honest, it was just a matter of
time until he got hit. That dog has no sense."

"I don't know your name," Susan said, putting
on her coat and shutting the door behind her.

"Oh, that's right. I'm Melanie.
Melanie Hanson," Claudia said, offering her gloved hand.

"Nice to meet you. Terrible
circumstances, of course. I'm Susan Adams."

Claudia nodded as they shook hands.
"Nice to meet you, Suzanne."

"It's Susan," the other
repeated, a little louder. "No problem. I get called Suzanne all the
time."

They headed around the corner of the
house through damp grass.

"You're so great to come out here
with me. Thank you so much. I can't tell you how terrible I feel about
this."

They arrived at the carport, where Susan
paused before unlocking the door. "Look, I know this is upsetting, but try
to forgive yourself. You're being really responsible and doing all you can to
help the poor thing. We'll get Diesel to the vet straight away. Maybe it's not
too bad."

They climbed into the car, buckled up
(the click sounding very loud to Claudia's ears) and started backing down the
driveway. Susan maneuvered adroitly around the small sedan (with its new
passenger-side window) sitting in the driveway. The SUV smelled like dogs. Very
unpleasant. Claudia was disgruntled.

Of course the dog story had been a ruse.
There was no injured dog. The "accident" had been an excuse to get
Susan into Claudia's car. Then Claudia had planned to drive someplace where
they could have a long, quiet talk in neutral territory, someplace where Susan
could think rationally.

It had been a straightforward plan,
nothing fancy: find Susan alone, talk reason to her and make her see the light.
The first part had been a snap. It had been easy to predict Mark would be away
this weekend: a conference for teachers of Slavic languages was held in a Sheraton
in D.C. at this time every year, and Mark wouldn't miss it. Further, Claudia
knew he would go alone, because those language conferences were beyond boring
for any spouse who wasn't a linguist. Susan would be flying solo for the
weekend.

Claudia had left
Mapleville
early that morning to be sure to arrive at Susan's door before she had a chance
to go anywhere. Sipping tea from her thermos and nibbling on homemade trail mix
from a bag in her pocket, Claudia had barely noticed the glorious weather as
she'd rehearsed what she would say to Susan. It was best to be direct: Claudia
would lay out the facts, Susan would be made to understand them, and when she
did, although it would be difficult, she would surely step aside. Of course,
some initial resistance to the idea of divorcing Mark could be anticipated.
Susan might batten down the proverbial hatches, but Claudia could be very
persistent.

Thinking it through carefully, Claudia
had decided that it was imperative to get Susan out of her comfort zone. They
had to be away from the cozy home Susan had contrived, away from the furniture
and artifacts of their life together, away from the dogs and Mark's clothes in
the closet, all of those things offering, through their homey familiarity, a
silent counter-argument to anything Claudia might say, perhaps muddling things
up and making it difficult for Susan to see things rationally. No less
important, a little Internet research revealed that Susan could have Claudia
legally removed from the house if the conversation became heated. Who knew how
crazy Susan might be? She might just call the cops, and that would be
disastrous.

If Claudia could have sufficient time to
have a real woman to woman discussion with Susan, if she could help her to view
this whole love triangle objectively, then Susan might just be smart and classy
enough to back out of it. That had been the hope, at least.

And now here they were, driving in
Susan's car, off to retrieve an injured dog that didn't exist. This was a
tricky turn of events. Now she had to figure out how to save the situation.

"So, which way do I go? Left or
right?" Susan asked when they'd reached the foot of the drive.

"Away from the highway,"
Claudia said. "About half a mile, right around the bend."

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as
Susan turned, and they made their slow way up the road.

Four tenths of a mile later, Claudia
said, "Stop the car."

"Here?" Susan answered,
slowing down to a crawl and looking back and forth. "I don't see
anything."

"I know. He's not here. But this is
the spot where I hit him. I know it is."

Susan inched along as she scrutinized
the road side. "I don't see anything, Melanie. Where was he when you left
him?"

"I was heading back toward you, so
he was in the other lane, a little off to the side."

Susan stopped the car and turned to
Claudia. "Well, he's obviously not here now. Maybe you figured the
distance wrong and it was actually a little farther up ahead. Should we keep
going a ways?"

Claudia appeared perplexed and shook her
head, frowning. "I don't know. I guess so, but I could swear it was right
here. I remember the way that tree twists, right there to the left of that
clump of bushes."

"How about we go on a bit, just in
case?" Claudia nodded her consent, and they started off again.

They drove on in silence, Susan
searching the side of the road, Claudia pretending to do so while she worked
out what to do next. They reached an intersection, and having seen no sign of
Diesel, Susan pulled off to the side of the road.

"So what now?" she asked.
"I don't see him."

"I don't know. I don't get it. I'm
baffled."

"You're sure you hit him?"

Claudia was affronted. How dare this
woman doubt her veracity? "Of course I'm sure. I hit him. You don't
mistake hitting a dog."

"No, of course you don't,"
Susan agreed quickly. "It's just odd not to see hide nor hair of
him."

They sat without speaking, looking out
the windshield as if they expected Diesel to come limping around the corner at
any moment. Susan was nonplussed. Claudia was torn about how to proceed. She
had never intended to hunt for an injured dog and now she found herself on a
preposterous search and rescue mission. And worse, there was every possibility
that Susan would call this whole thing a waste of time, give up and go home.
Nothing would have been accomplished and they wouldn't have resolved a thing
about Mark. The whole plan was going downhill fast.

Finally Susan spoke up again. "You
know, it's possible he crawled back into the woods."

Claudia turned a hopeful face to Susan.
This could buy some time. "Really? You think he was able to drag himself
off the road?"

"Maybe," Susan answered.
"I guess it's possible. How badly was he hurt?"

"He looked bad enough to me that he
wouldn't be able to go any distance, but you know, maybe he was able to get
into the woods."

"That could be it, or maybe someone
else already happened along and found him."

"Yes, maybe he's at the vet's right
now," Claudia muttered thoughtfully. "But is it likely? Do you think
that's what happened?"

"I don't know. It's possible,"
Susan shrugged. "On the other hand, he might be right off the road where
no one can see him."

Claudia sat up straight in her seat.
"Well, if it's even slightly possible he's suffering somewhere, I really
want to get to him, don't you? Don't you think we should look again?"

"Okay," Susan said, nodding
her head decisively. "Okay. Let's go back to where you think you hit him
and take a look."

Susan turned the car around and they
rolled slowly back to the spot near the twisted tree, again paying close
attention to the berm, just in case they'd missed a sign of Diesel on their
first drive-by. When they arrived at their destination, they split to opposite
sides of the road.

"I don't see anything. You say you
hit him over here?" Susan called across as she scuffed at the gravel with
her feet. "There's no blood or hair, not even any drag marks. I don't get
it."

"I can't explain it," Claudia
said, shaking her head and walking across the road to where Susan was standing.
"Should we go into the woods a little?"

Susan crossed her arms and sighed. The
whole thing was odd. No dog, no sign of a dog. She did some rapid calculations:
by the time Melanie had hit the dog, had gotten back in her car and driven to
Susan's house, only five minutes could have passed, tops. Another few minutes
for the events at the house. They hadn't passed any other cars. Where could a
seriously injured dog have gone in the course of roughly ten or fifteen
minutes? Strange.

Susan looked at Melanie out of the
corner of her eye. Was it possible that she had imagined the entire incident?
She was definitely weird, not just in her appearance, but in her mannerisms as
well. She'd been acting so distraught in the car, but now look at her: just
standing there, staring into the woods, holding one glove under her left
armpit, pulling something out of her pocket with her right hand and popping it
into her mouth. She didn't look anxious. She seemed to be lost in thought.

"Are you eating?" Susan asked,
watching the hand reach back into the pocket of the pea coat.

"Just a little snack," Claudia
answered, taking quick offense at what she perceived to be a judgmental tone.
"I didn't get to have breakfast, remember? I was supposed to be meeting a
friend." Claudia immediately checked herself. It wasn't wise to respond so
defensively. "Do you want some?"

"No. I don't feel like eating at
the moment."

Claudia swallowed the nuts and raisins
she was chewing and returned what remained in her hand to her pocket. She put
her glove back on and moved into the woods. Susan reluctantly followed, wishing
Mark were there with them.

"I don't think he would have gotten
far, from the way you described the accident," Susan called after
Claudia's back. "If we don't find him within a dozen yards or so, I don't
think we're going to find him at all."

Claudia ignored her and kept walking,
shuffling through the leaves that lay ankle-deep in some spots, stepping over
fallen saplings, moving deeper into the trees and calling Diesel's name. Susan
felt she had no choice but to follow and emulate. After plunging in far enough
that the road was no longer visible, Susan stopped.

"Look, Melanie," she called.
"How far are you planning to go?"

Claudia quit her forward progression and
turned around. "I'll go as far as I need to. He shouldn't just suffer out
here alone." She turned back and continued walking, her eyes sweeping back
and forth over the ground. It was dim in the woods and far chillier than it had
been in the sunshine out on the open road.

Less than a minute later, stepping
carefully around a thorny bush in her path, Susan spoke up again. "Stop.
Hey, Melanie, stop! I just realized I've been a dope."

Claudia turned around to listen.

"We're pretty sure it's Diesel,
right?" Susan continued. "A big black dog, furry, big white mark on
his chest?"

"Yes, that sounds exactly like
him."

"Okay then, let's just head back to
the house. Anyone who would have been driving down our road this early, besides
you, of course, would have known Diesel to see him, and would have known he
belongs to the
Richardsons
. We can just call the
Richardsons
and ask if they've got Diesel at home, or if
someone let them know he's been hurt. If they've got him, we can stop looking.
If they don't, we can get them down here to help us search. He would respond to
their voices even if he's too scared to respond to ours."

Claudia didn't like this proposal at
all. More people. This was getting entirely out of hand. She began to have a
sinking feeling in her stomach that there was no way to save her plan.