Wearing her long brown hair down and wavy with her normal suit replaced by jeans and a t-shirt, Taylor looked at least five years younger, and actually resembled the Townsends’ granddaughter. There was a time in small-town America when such a deception wouldn’t be feasible. However, even with the sense of community, in today’s self-absorbed world, people were willing to accept things at face value. Besides, between Taylor’s research and Phil’s resources, she was well versed on everything the Townsends’ granddaughter should know and had the credentials to prove it.
Since moving to Olivia, Patricia had assumed the alias of Melissa Garrison. Melissa worked in the small law practice of Jefferson Diamond, located in a nondescript storefront on Main Street. Most of Olivia was on Main Street or within a block or two in each direction. Upon entering Diamond’s storefront, Taylor deduced that Mr. Diamond’s office consisted of a reception area with a large wraparound desk and individual office spaces all accessible through doors off the center room. The paneled walls and vinyl chairs were a flashback to the 1970s and a far cry from Patricia’s office at Rawlings corporate headquarters in Iowa City.
After only a few minutes of speaking with the office manager, who’d introduced herself as Ami, Taylor caught her first glance of Patricia. Their suspect barely noticed Taylor as she carried a box of files from one room to the other. Though Patricia didn’t look exactly like her photographs, Taylor recognized her immediately. Her body shape and features were the same, but she’d changed her hair. No longer was it long and brown. Now she sported a short, spikey deep-red style.
Not long into her conversation with Ami, the two struck up a kind of friendship. It wasn’t until Taylor was about to leave and she mentioned staying alone at her grandparents’ home that Ami said, “Oh, you can’t be all by yourself way out there all night. Why don’t you stay in town and have dinner with us?”
Taylor hid her excitement. It was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Patricia. “Well, I’m not sure…”
“Nonsense, we all hang out on Friday nights at the pub on Main. It has pool tables and darts. There’s a dance floor…” Ami scrunched her nose and forehead. “…but no one around here dances. If you want clubs like that you need to drive to Minneapolis.”
“Are you sure I won’t be intruding?” Taylor asked. “I don’t want to get in the way of office talk.”
“Mel?” Ami called toward the back room. “Do we talk shop at the bar?”
Patricia shook her head as she emerged from the doorway, wiping her hands on her black slacks. “Nope. It’s our time to unwind.”
“Do you all go? How many of you work here?”
Patricia replied, “There’s three of us, four if Jefferson goes, but I don’t think Janice thinks too much of that. He’s only gone twice since I’ve been working here.”
“Jefferson? Oh, Mr. Diamond,” Taylor said, playing her part. Speaking of her boss by his first name and mentioning his wife, Taylor wondered if Patricia had set her sights on her new boss as she had her old. If she had, by the look of the law firm, it was a considerable downgrade from Anthony Rawlings. “Well,” Taylor continued, “I need to do a few more things for my grandparents. Can I meet you?”
“Sure,” Ami replied. “We usually go home and change into jeans and meet there about 6:30. We’ll save you a seat.”
Ami’s perkiness was contagious. If Taylor truly had been the granddaughter of the Townsends’, she would enjoy visiting and spending time with her. As it was, Ami’s excessive talking was confirmation of information Taylor already knew—that the law firm closed at 5:00 PM. Since it was nearly 3:00 PM now, Phil had two hours to set up surveillance in Patricia’s rented home.
Stepping out onto the quaint street, Taylor looked at the bars on her phone in disgust as she tried to call Phil. It wasn’t until she was in her car and driving toward Patricia’s rented home that she had enough signal to complete the call. How could these people stand it? Taylor wondered. Then remembering the old-fashioned bulky phone she’d seen on Ami’s desk, she decided that maybe they didn’t use cell phones exclusively—like most of the civilized world.
“It’s her,” Taylor said as Phil answered.
“We knew it was.”