Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

“Yes, of course. They’re still working that case.”

“I saw the guy do it.”

Frank’s eyes widened. “No shit?”

“No shit. I not only saw him dump off her body but I got a good look at his car, too.”

“That’s great news. But tell me, why in the holy hell have you waited this long to tell anybody?”

“Hell, Frank. I can’t tell you that. All I can say is that it certainly hasn’t been pleasant not coming forward with this before now, but unfortunately there are some, uh, complications that have made me hesitant to do so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t tell you. Let’s just say that there have been some personal reasons not to, and now that I have, I’ll probably regret it.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t see how reporting that you eye-witnessed a crime in progress can be anything but a good thing. I’m sure the victim will attest to that after they nail the guy.”

“Can’t we just drop the reasons why and go from there, Frank? I really just want to do my civic duty because it has gotten on my conscience. The rest is irrelevant to the case, anyway. Believe me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll back off. But if you change your mind, I’ll be all ears, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. So where should I go from here?”

“Well, if you really don’t want to get involved, I’d just go ahead and call the police, anonymously, and tell them whatever it is you want to tell them. Describe the vehicle-make, model, year, color. As for the suspect’s appearance, give them a clear description-approximate height, weight, build and so on. Tell them what you saw; be as thorough as you can. They will be forever grateful to you, I’m sure. They don’t have squat on this case from what I’ve heard. Your info will no doubt give them the break they’ve been hoping for.”

“That’s great to hear. I feel better already,” Tom said.

“Have you told Peg any of this?”

Damn! Tom thought. Why can’t Frank just let it go?

“No, of course not. Why else would I be meeting you covertly like this?”

Frank grinned knowingly. “Aha! Now I’m starting to get the picture.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tom, it’s more than obvious what’s happening here. And I don’t know why you’re so worried talking to me of all people about it. The reason you don’t want anyone to know about your witnessing this incident is because you were somewhere where you weren’t supposed to be! Am I right?”

Screw it. “You got me there, Frank.”

Frank chuckled. “Gotta admit, I didn’t know you had it in you! Peg’s no slouch and you guys seem to be really tight for an old married couple. This gal must really be something special.”

“She is, or I should say, was. So now that the cat’s out of the bag, can we just move on and never mention this again?”

“Mum’s the word.”

“Good. Well, I’m going down to the school and catch up on some work I put off before the break. Thanks for everything, friend.”

“No problem. And don’t worry about any of this-things always have a way of working themselves out.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Tom killed the last of his coffee and stood up. The two left and Tom thanked Frank again for his advice before heading to campus.

Alone in his office, Tom debated whether or not to call Tracy and tell her that she wouldn’t have to talk to the police after all. He could at least spare her that inconvenience-not that she would have followed through with it, anyway.

He picked up the phone and punched the first four numbers to her apartment then promptly hung up.

What am I doing, here? he thought. All he would do is stir everything up again. Tracy had decided to let him off the hook for getting her knocked up and told him to go fly a kite. Why couldn’t he just be content with that and be thankful that he could still have his life?

Could this have come out any better, you nitwit?

With a smug grin on his face, Tom decided to make a call after all, but not to Tracy. He opened his cell phone, pressed “send” and scrolled down to his home number. Kelli answered.

“Hi, kiddo. Is your mother around?”

“Hi Daddy. Guess what I did,” his daughter said.

“What?”

“I cleaned up my room all by myself!”

“That’s awesome, sweetie! I’ll bet your mom is very proud of you.”

“She is-she’s gonna let me have my own birthday party next month!”

“That’s really great, Kelli.”

“Well, I’ll go get Mom now,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“Yes, dear, what is it?” Peg said.

“Just letting you know that I’m on my way home. You want me to pick up anything on the way?”

“Yes, now that you mention it. We’re almost out of milk and if you want any beer tonight, you’d better pick some up as well.”

“Christ, I’m glad you remembered the beer! Anything else?’

“That should do it for now. I’m going to go to the store tomorrow and will get the rest of what we need.”

“Okay. I’ll swing by the market and be home in about fifteen minutes or so.”

“See you then.”

Tom cranked up the volume on the Accord’s CD player. As he listened to New Year’s Day by U2, he was reminded of the party that he and Peg were going to on New Year’s Eve. One of Peg’s friends was having a fairly good-sized get-together at their house and he was dreading the very prospect of it. He would be much more content drinking beer at home and watching the ball drop in Time’s Square with Dick Clark than facing an evening of socializing with a bunch of yuppie Bush lovers. Peg sure knew how to pick ‘em, he thought.

Five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket. He avoided parking anywhere near where he had parked the day before, still reeling from the fact that he had almost lost his life in this very place. He found a spot near the entrance, shut the car off, got out and entered the store.

After he’d picked up the milk and a twelve pack of Michelob Ultra, he got into the express line. As he placed his items on the counter, he took one look at the cashier and did a double-take.

The young girl looked oddly familiar. She was about eighteen or so, had brown hair and was quite pretty. He glanced at her name tag, which had Erin written in black Sharpie on it Erin, he thought. Why did he feel like he knew this girl?

“Sir?” she said, staring at him expectantly.

Tom wondered how long he’d been staring at her.

“Oh, sorry! Yes,” he stammered, still trying to place the girl in his mind.

“Paper or plastic?” she asked as she scanned the milk.

“Um, neither, really. I’ll just carry them.”

“That will be $13.79, sir.”

Tom fumbled for his wallet and got out his credit card. He swiped it through the machine. Erin handed him a receipt and he signed it then returned it to her.

“Thanks, have a nice day,” Erin told him as she handed him another receipt.

“Uh, thank you. Can I ask you something, Erin?”

“Sure.”

“Have we ever met?”

She smiled sweetly. “No. But I think I’ve seen you here before. In fact, I believe I waited on you yesterday afternoon.”

Tom thought back to the day before, gazed at Erin and recalled that she had indeed been the one who had waited on him.

“Oh, yeah, you did! Well, thanks for waiting on me again,” he said stupidly.

Erin giggled. “No problem.”

“Goodbye, Erin.”

“Bye.”

Tom placed the beer and milk back into his grocery cart and headed for the exit. Once he reached Peg’s car, he opened the trunk and unloaded the cart, his thoughts still on the checkout girl.

He knew the girl better than that, he thought. In fact, he knew her quite well…