wasn't something she wanted to hear.
At the corner gas station, I stopped to grab a coffee and a couple of magazines. My mom loves trashy magazines, but I only buy them to give me something to do if no one comes in to an open house. One of them had a picture of some poor missing woman on the cover. I looked at her smiling face and thought: She used to be just a girl living her life, and now everyone thinks they know all about her.
The open house was a little slow. I guess most people were taking advantage of the good weather--like I should have been. About ten minutes before it ended I started packing up my stuff. When I went outside to put some flyers in my trunk, a newer tan-colored van pulled in and parked right behind my car. An older guy, maybe mid-forties, walked toward me with a smile on his face.
'Shoot, you're packing up. Serves me right--saving the best for last. Would it be a huge inconvenience if I had a quick look around?'
For a second I considered telling him it was too late. A part of me just wanted to go home, and I still had to get some stuff from the grocery store, but as I hesitated he put his hands on his hips, stepped back a couple of feet, and surveyed the front of the house.
'Wow!'
I looked him over. His khakis were perfectly pressed, and I liked that. Fluffing my clothes in the dryer is my version of ironing. His running shoes were glaringly white, and he was wearing a baseball hat with the logo of a local golf course on the brim. His lightweight beige coat sported the same logo over his heart. If he belonged to the club, he had money behind him. Open houses usually attract neighbors or people out on Sunday drives, but when I glanced at his van I could see our real estate magazine sitting on the dash. What the hell, a few more minutes wouldn't kill me.
I gave him a big smile and said, 'Of course I don't mind, that's what I'm here for. My name's Annie O'Sullivan.'
I held out my hand, and as he came toward me to shake it, he stumbled on the flagstone path. To stop himself from falling to his knees, he braced his hands on the ground, ass up. I reached for him but he jumped to his feet in seconds, laughing and brushing the dirt from his hands.
'Oh, my God--I'm so sorry. Are you okay?'
Large blue eyes set in an open face were bright with amusement. Laugh lines radiated from the corners, leaked into flushed cheeks, and were commas to a wide grin of straight white teeth. It was one of the most genuine smiles I'd seen in a long time, and a face you just had to smile back at.
He bowed theatrically and said, 'I certainly know how to make an entrance, don't I? Allow me to introduce myself, I'm David.'
I dropped into a quick curtsy and said, 'Nice to make your acquaintance, David.'
We both laughed, and he said, 'I really do appreciate this, and I promise I won't take up too much of your time.'
'Don't worry about it--look around as long as you want.'
'That's very kind of you, but I'm sure you can't wait to go and enjoy the weather. I'll make it quick.'
Man, was it ever nice to meet a prospective buyer who treated a Realtor with consideration. Usually they act like they're doing us a favor.
I took him inside and chatted him up about the house, which was your typical West Coast style with vaulted ceilings, cedar siding, and a killer ocean view. He made such enthusiastic comments as he trailed behind me, it was like I was seeing the house for the first time too, and I found myself eager to point out features.
'The ad said the house is only two years old but it didn't mention the builder,' he said.
'They're a local firm, Corbett Construction. It's still under warranty for a couple more years--which goes with the house, of course.'
'That's great, you can never be too careful with some of these builders. You just can't trust people these days.'
'When did you say you wanted to move by?'
'I didn't, but I'm flexible. When I find what I'm looking for I'll know.' I glanced back at him and he smiled.
'If you need a mortgage broker, I can give you some names.'
'Thanks, but I'll be buying with cash.' Better and better. 'Does it have a fenced backyard?' he said. 'I have a dog.'
'Oh, I love dogs--what kind?'
'A golden retriever, purebred, and he needs a lot of room to move around.'
'I totally understand, I have a golden too, and she's a handful if she doesn't get enough exercise.' I opened the sliding glass door to show him the cedar fencing. 'So what's your dog's name?'
In the second that I waited for him to answer, I realized he was too close behind me. Something hard pressed into my lower back.
I tried to turn around, but he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back so fast and so painfully I thought a piece of my scalp would tear off. My heart slammed against my rib cage, and blood roared in my head. I willed my legs to kick out, run--to do something, anything--but I couldn't make them move.
'Yes, Annie, that's a gun, so please listen carefully. I'm going to let go of your hair and you're going to remain calm while we take a walk out to my van. And I want you to keep that pretty smile on your face while we do that, okay?'
'I--I can't--'
Voice low and calm against my ear, he said, 'Take a deep breath, Annie.'
I sucked in a lungful.
'Let it out nice and easy.'
I exhaled slowly.
'Again.' The room came back into focus.
'Good girl.' He released my hair.
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I could feel the gun grinding into my spine as he used it to push me forward. He urged me out the front door and down the steps, humming a little melody. While we walked to his van, he whispered into my ear.
'Relax, Annie. Just pay attention to what I tell you and we won't have any problems. Don't forget to keep smiling.' As we moved farther from the house I looked around--somebody had to be seeing this--but no one was in sight. I'd never noticed how many trees surrounded the house or that both of the neighboring homes faced away.
'I'm so glad the sun came out for us. It's a lovely day for a drive, don't you agree?'
He's got a gun and he's talking about
'Annie, I asked you a question.'
'Yes.'
'Yes what, Annie?'
'It's a nice day for a drive.' Like two neighbors having a conversation over the fence. I kept thinking, this guy can't be doing this in broad daylight. It's an open house, for God's sake, I have a sign at the end of the driveway, and a car is going to pull up any minute.
We were at the van.
'Open the door, Annie.' I didn't move. He pressed the gun to my lower back. I opened the door.
'Now get in.' The gun pressed harder. I got in and he closed the door.
As he began to walk away, I yanked the door handle and pushed the automatic lock repeatedly, but something was wrong. I rammed my shoulder into the door.
He crossed in front of the van.
I pounded the locks, the power window button, tugged at the handle. His door opened and I turned around. In his hand was a keyless entry remote.
He held it up and smiled.
As he backed down the driveway and I watched the house get smaller, I couldn't believe what was happening. He wasn't real. None of this was real. At the end of the driveway he paused for a second, checking for traffic. My lawn sign advertising the open house was missing. I glanced into the back of the van and there it was,
