Manhunt. Volume 14, Number 1, February/March, 1966

“No,” he answered shortly. “I never really knew her.” He turned on one heel and strode off.

Cal was kind of strange at times, but most of the time he was easy to get along with and very easy to talk with. He was a bachelor and seemed quite contented with his singleness. Almost everyone in the county knew Cal and liked him. Maybe it was that slow Virginia drawl of his that set you to liking him as soon as he opened his mouth. Cal had drifted into town soon after the end of the war. Six months later he’d become one of Tom Rinehart’s deputies and had been on the force ever since. Cal came from Petersburg, Virginia, and could tell the story of the Civil War battles of that city better than any eye-witness could have done.

The coroner and his men came just as I was making my last exposure. I didn’t want to watch them take her out of there so I took off for town. Anyway I had a ten o’clock appointment to get back to and it was half-past nine then.

Much to my surprise I found my sometime fiancee waiting outside my studio when I returned. Anita Taggert is a tall, cool blonde with a lot of big ideas which I don’t quite measure up to. We were in high school together and like all kids that age I suppose we had more than our share of big ideas. Anita was bent on a career as a topflight fashion model and I was sure I was headed for a career as a magazine photographer along with such as Robert Capa, Werner Bischoff, and others.

Then Korea came along before we left high school. When we graduated Anita and I became engaged and then like a lot of other young kids we parted. I headed for Korea via the U.S. Army and the Signal School at Fort Monmouth where I learned to handle a camera the Army way. Anita headed for New York and her modeling career. I guess it must have been Korea that changed things for me; or maybe I never was cut out for the big dreams I’d wanted. But anyway somewhere along the way I lost my taste for my big ideas. When I came home and announced my intention to settle in the old hometown and concentrate on family portraits, Anita pleaded with me to change my mind. When I stood firm she promptly broke our engagement and took the next plane back to New York. She still dropped in to see me on the infrequent occasions when she made a visit home, hoping to change my mind, I’m sure, although she didn’t press the issue.

I couldn’t help feeling a little smug as I got out of my new station wagon. Anita was staring at the wagon as though she’d never seen one before.

“What did you do, Matt,” she asked. “Inherit some money from one of your grateful clients?”

I grinned at her. “Business has grown a bit since your last visit.”

“It must have.”

She turned away from the wagon and looked me over. I saw her disapproval when she looked at my clothing. Tramping around in a barn and a silo isn’t compatible with the wear of highly polished shoes and gray flannel suits. So, instead, I wore a pair of heavy work shoes and a suit of suntans with a leather jacket to cut the chill of early fall. I was certain it had been a long time since Anita had been this close to a man dressed as I was.

While she was looking me over I gave her a quick appraisal. I supposed she wore the latest fashions, but, anyway, her clothes became her for she was beautiful, as always, in a cool sophisticated way.

“I’d love to talk to you, Hon,” I said, “But right now I’ve got a rush job on my hands and a customer due in ten minutes for a sitting.” I flashed a smile at her to take the sting out of what must have sounded to her like a polite brush-off. “And as you can see I’ll have to make myself presentable.”

“I wasn’t aware that you went to so much trouble for your clients, Matt.”

“Well, this one’s kind of special. Charles Henry Lane. You remember. Prominent young businessman and son of one of our oldest families. I think I quoted our DAILY NEWS correctly.”

Anita smiled softly. “Hum. Perhaps you aren’t a total loss after all, Matt.”

I knew what she was leading up to so I quickly changed the subject. “How long are you stopping in this humble wayside town?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks!” I exclaimed. “What is this?” Anita rarely stayed longer than a couple of days.

“I’m on vacation. Two whole weeks.”

“And you’re spending it here?”

“Why, yes, Matt. I thought it would do me good to get away from the city for a while.”

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself. We have plenty of clean fresh air. Wholesome milk to build strong bones and teeth, and quiet to soothe ruffled nerves. By the way, aren’t you a little thin?”

She ignored me and walked toward the door. “You don’t have much time to dress to receive Charles Henry Lane, Matt. Call me when you’re free. See you later.”

With a wave she was gone. I watched her disappear up the street and suddenly I felt an old, but not unfamiliar, sensation somewhere in the region of my heart. Quickly I willed it away and, glancing at my watch, dashed for the back room.