She Tries To Forget Ch. 03

Passion in James County XVI

Martin Flannigan, Ann Wallin's next door neighbor, was standing at his kitchen counter making coffee when he saw the big blonde man leaving Ann's house. "Looks like Ann had another, ah, guest, again last night," he thought and shook his head sadly. "What's going on with that girl? What makes a pretty woman like her act like that?"

Martin, a tall, bulky graying man of fifty-five, had been Ann's neighbor for about a year. He moved to Jamestown at the invitation of his old friend, Alex Martin, the sheriff of James County, to head up an arson task force Alex had assembled. Martin was an arson investigator in a police department in a large city where Alex had once been a detective and was facing forced retirement due to his age at the time his friend called.

After he got the coffee brewing, Martin went outside and put the container that held his household trash out on the front sidewalk for pickup. He looked at his neighbor's house. As usual, Ann hadn't put her trash out. He walked around to the rear of her house, got the large, wheeled container, and rolled it out to the front sidewalk. Putting his neighbor's trash out on collection day had become a habit for him.

Martin was a widower. His wife died in a car crash two days before their tenth anniversary, some fifteen years earlier. They had two children, a son and a daughter. Both of his kids had followed in his law-enforcement footsteps. Martin, Jr., now twenty-four, was a trooper with the State Patrol. Melissa, twenty-three, was a detective with the sheriff's department in neighboring Lincoln County, and was attending night school, working on her law degree. Martin, with good reason, was proud of his kids. "I guess I didn't do too bad as a single dad," he thought as he walked back into his house.

Once more, he stood in his kitchen, looking out the window at Ann Wallin's house, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I wonder what Ann's story is," he mused. He'd spoken with his attractive neighbor quite often since he moved in, and found her to be a soft-spoken, intelligent woman. He knew she lived alone, and she didn't wear a wedding ring, which probably meant she was either divorced or widowed. He had a feeling she'd been married at least once. "Why does a woman as attractive and intelligent as she seems to be drag home a loser every night?" he wondered.

Martin wasn't judging Ann, he'd been a cop too long, and had seen and heard too many things to make judgments about people. He had gotten to know Ann and his instincts told him she was a nice person. He always trusted his instincts.

The phone rang and Martin picked it up. "Flannigan," he said.

"Hey, Ash Man," a feminine voice said, "How are you doing?"

Martin laughed. "About as well as some hick sheriff's department gumshoe, why?" he replied to his daughter. Once, ages ago, he'd come home from a fire scene covered with ashes. His wife Marie commented that he looked like the ash man. The kids had picked up the nickname and continued to use it.

"You ready for some good news?" his daughter asked.

"What?" he asked, "You've decided to bag being a cop and get a real job?"

"Not yet," Melissa said, "besides, this is even better."

"You got a dog?" Martin said, "or maybe a new car?"

"Dad!" his daughter said, sounding exasperated, "Bill asked me to marry him last night."

"Well, now," Martin said, "I guess that is good news." Bill was Bill Wilson, a State Patrol sergeant his daughter had been dating for three years and living with for one. Martin liked him and had hoped Melissa and he would eventually get married. "When's the big day?"

"What, you're assuming I said I would marry him?" his daughter teased.

"Damn right that's what I'm assuming," Martin said, "I didn't raise no foolish daughter."

Melissa laughed. "No, I guess you didn't," she chuckled. "We've decided to do it in June. The twenty-fifth."

Martin's heart skipped a beat and his eyes felt wet. "Honey, I...I love you," he said, "that's really nice." June twenty-fifth was the day he'd married Marie, Melissa's mother.

"I figured it turned out pretty well for you and Mom," Melissa said, "so it ought to be a lucky day for Bill and me, too."

"Honey, I love you," Martin said. "And I'm really happy for you."

"I love you, too, Dad," Melissa said. "Look, I gotta go. You coming up Saturday for dinner like always?"

"Of course," Martin replied. "You want me to bring anything?"

"Just your appetite," his daughter replied.

No sooner had his phone conversation with his daughter ended than the phone rang again. Martin picked it up.

"Hey, Ash Man," a male voice said, "you hear the news?"

"Yes, son, I just got off the phone with your sister," he said. "When are you going to call and tell me something like that?" His son had been dating a fellow trooper named Jennifer for almost a year, and Martin expected them to decide on marriage any time now.

"Actually, Dad, Jennifer and I have been talking about it," his son said. "Do you think Melissa would be angry if we had a double wedding?"

"You'd have to ask her about that," Martin said. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't have any problem with that. Combining the weddings will cut down on expenses, you know."

Martin, Jr., laughed. "Yeah, sure, I'll remember to tell Melissa that when I discuss it with her," he said, "I'm sure that will help convince her. Hey, Dad, I gotta get out and among 'em, I just called to be sure you were OK. See you at Melissa's Saturday?"

"Of course," Martin said. "Be careful, son."

"You, too, Ash Man," his son said.

After his ritual morning phone calls from the kids were finished, Martin got ready for work. Once he was dressed, he went back to the kitchen and got himself one last cup of coffee. As he stood at his sink drinking it, he saw Ann Wallin come out of her house, dressed for work. She looked at the trash container sitting at the curb and turned and waved at his house. Martin, not sure whether she could see him or not, waved back. Ann got in her little car and drove off.

"What's driving her?" Martin mused as he sipped his coffee. "What could be making her act the way she does?" He paused. "You know, Flannigan," he scolded himself, "What your neighbor does, and why, is none of your damn business." He finished his coffee, rinsed the cup out and put it in the dishwasher, then he put his jacket on and headed off to the office. He had a particularly convoluted case he and his team were close to solving, and his thoughts turned to that as he backed his car out of the garage.