Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [124]
He had been sitting at the dining room table, working on chapter five of the book, in which Matthew Stock confronts Paul at the hotel where he is staying, when the knock came. The sound startled Martin out of his fictional world, causing him to wonder who might be at the door. It was two-thirty in the afternoon and Laura was working. The two had spoken less than an hour ago by phone and had planned to dine out this evening, the first time (other than doctor appointments) that Martin would leave his house since the accident. His visit to the doctor yesterday had been good. His leg was healing nicely and his ribs were nearly pain-free. The two had decided that it was time to celebrate.
Martin rose from his chair, grabbed his crutches, and made his way over to the front door. As he reached for the knob, the person on the other side of the door knocked again.
“I’m here,” he called, turning the knob and swinging open the door.
He should have recognized her immediately, but the possibility that she might one day be standing on his front stoop had never entered his mind. She looked different than Martin remembered, with purple and yellow bruising under one eye and a swollen, bruised jaw. She was wearing a sling over her left arm and looked as though she had been through hell, and yet she was smiling.
It was the smile that Martin finally recognized, for he had only seen this woman smiling. Had only seen her in photographs. Standing on tropical beaches and in exotic locales.
“It’s you,” Sophie Pearl whispered in a soft voice, her eyes moving from the immobilizer on his leg to the healing gash in his forehead. “I can’t believe it. I found you.”
“Me?” Martin stammered, feeling his entire body begin to shake. His instinct was to slam the door, turn and run, but he knew that it was too late for anything like that. Besides, he doubted that he could manage the maneuver. He was trapped in a state of frozen trembling.
“It’s okay, Martin,” she said, causing his terror to spike to new levels.
She knows my name, he thought. Oh my God. She knows my name.
“Listen,” she said. “I’m not here to get you in any trouble. I’d like …”
“How? How did you know?” Martin interrupted, still trapped in place by a nervous system on overload.
“Can I come in?” she asked. “Please? It wasn’t easy finding you, but I had to meet you.”
“How?” Martin asked again, not because he wanted the answer anymore but because it was the only word he could manage to say.
Sophie Pearl sighed and reached into her jacket pocket with her unencumbered hand. A moment later her hand emerged from the pocket grasping a small, rectangular piece of plastic.
Martin recognized it immediately.
Attached to his keychain were several small plastic cards from the various businesses that he frequented. Grocery stores, pharmacies, retail outlets, and even gas stations distributed these cards to consumers in order to build customer loyalty. Whenever Martin made a purchase from one of these establishments, the cashier would scan the bar code on the back of the card and as a result, Martin would receive a discount, a coupon, or a sale price on items that he purchased. In between Sophie Pearl’s thumb and forefinger was an orange card for the Stop & Shop supermarket, its top left corner broken off.
“How?” Martin stammered again, this time with genuine curiosity.
“I found it in my backyard,” she explained. “Underneath one of the garage windows.” She paused a moment, seeming to wait for Martin’s response, but when none came, she leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “Please, Martin, can I come in? I won’t be long. I promise.”
Martin was still processing the idea that Sophie Pearl had found his Stop & Shop frequent-shopper card in her backyard. He understood how it had ended up there almost immediately. After spotting Clive Darrow’s truck inside the Pearls’ garage, he had fallen, landing in the grass below the window. Since his keys were stuffed in his pocket (a place they never would have been during a regular visit to a client’s home), it was