The Next Week (or, What Happened Between Chapter 2 & Chapter 3)

 

I drove home, puzzled.  I took the cooler into the kitchen. I sat at the table and ate half of a sandwich. I put the rest of the sandwiches in the refrigerator. I sat back down and set my head down to think, and fell asleep at the dining table. I think I cried in my sleep, because I woke up wiping my nose on my sleeve.

 

 I noticed the time, and stood up to fix a lunch for myself for work the next day. I found there were already one and a half hoagie sandwiches in the fridge. I felt both the victory of not needing to make a lunch for the next day and the disappointment over my missing friend.

 

“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“Where did you go, when you and Dorothy went for a drive on Saturday?”

“Did Dorothy ever say any thing to you or give you any thing? Any thing that would help us find out where she might have gone?” 

 

I wasn’t able to remember any more than looking at the country side, noticing the trees and some landscaping. I wasn’t sure if we did go for a drive, or if we were going to go for a drive. I assumed the former, since every one who asked me, was assuming that we did.  Every one asked me the same questions, and then asked them again.

 

The manager of the home called me on Monday. I spoke to him after I got home from work.

 

On Tuesday a police detective called me and asked for an interview. I spoke to him after I got off of work. 

 

On Wednesday a private detective hired by Toby and Katy called and asked if we could talk “over a cup of coffee”. We did so after I got off of work. I had tea, not coffee.

Toby and Katy themselves sent a letter. It came to me on Thursday. They asked me the same questions. I replied to them in a letter with the same answers I’d given every one else.

 

 I told each of them the same thing, each time; we went for a drive in the country side. I pointed out the trees and landscaping. Dorothy didn’t give me any thing. She smiled, but never spoke.

 

On Friday I went to the post office and mailed the letter to Toby and Katy. A small package had come in the mail for me. The handwriting was Dorothy’s. I waited until I got home to open it. Inside was an envelope and a key; Dorothy’s key to the Rabbit.