Some Choose Darkness. Charlie Donlea

the appearance, since it was how Thomas often came home after work. Catherine’s husband wore a bandana, which hung loose around his neck. Angela remembered the red marks on his skin and his remarks from the other night about mosquitoes and an allergic reaction and his foreman quitting, which forced Bill to run the crews. Angela hadn’t even been aware that night, preoccupied as she was with her thoughts of the missing women, that she had comprehended Bill Blackwell’s words. Angela’s mind worked that way, absorbing everything around her and storing it all in the deep recesses of her brain. The catalogued information randomly floated from her subconscious until she was aware of its presence. It happened to her often. Her mind would whisper to her that she was aware of something, even if she didn’t quite grasp precisely what it was she understood. Then, later, the stored image or nugget of knowledge would break loose from the anchor in her mind and rise to the surface. But there was something else that caught her attention now. Angela tried not to look, tunneling her vision to the task of organizing her papers so she could leave as quickly as possible.

      “Angela,” Bill said. “How are you? I didn’t know you guys were getting together today.”

      Angela smiled and offered a quick glance at Bill Blackwell. Then the other image that had caught her attention came into focus. She saw another man in the background.

      “This is Leonard Williams,” Bill said as the man walked into the kitchen. “He’s been working up at the Kenosha shop for me. I stopped home for a quick bite to eat before heading out to a job on the west side.”