Phoenix
I left to go find my girl the very next morning. I told the officers in Church what I was doing, but they were given strict instructions to keep their mouths shut. I didn’t want Ember or Coal getting wind of it and following me out to California. We told everyone else, including Ember and Coal, that I would be gone on a run for two to three weeks to discuss a new business opportunity with an old friend.
I rode from sunup to sundown as fast as I could, only stopping for a quick bite to eat and to refuel. At night, I found the closest motel and crashed until morning. It only took me three days to make it to the small coastal town of Rocky Point in northern California. I found a cheap motel and booked a room for the next week.
After washing the road off and getting something to eat, I had to force myself to go to bed. I was tired, but knowing that I was likely in the same town as my Annabelle was making it difficult, to say the least, to fall asleep. I finally managed to get a handle on my excitement and got a few hours of rest.
The next morning, I wasn’t sure where to start. I didn’t want to go straight to Wave and ask for his help. For some reason, I wanted to find her myself. I couldn’t explain it, but it was just something I felt I had to do.
The town really wasn’t that big. It took me less than an hour to circle the whole town and ride up and down every major road. Once I had a feel for the lay of the land, it was time to start searching.
I sat down at a booth in the back of a little cafe on the main street of Rocky Point, aptly named Rocky Point Cafe. With a fresh cup of coffee in front of me and a hearty breakfast on its way, I tried to think of places where I could find her. She had to have a job, but I had no idea what it could be. She could be anything at this point. She’d had plenty of time to go to school and get a college education.
Staring into the cup of coffee held between both of my hands, I wracked my brain trying to come up with job possibilities for Annabelle. My head jerked up when the waitress brought my breakfast plate over and my eyes landed on a very distinct piece of artwork hanging on the wall. “Excuse me, ma’am, do you happen to know where that came from?” I asked, pointing to the picture on the wall.
She smiled and batted her lashes at me. “Yes, I do. That was created by a local artist by the name of Taylor Davis.”
“If I wanted to purchase something by that artist, where could I find more of their work?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what, but something about the art was calling to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
“Taylor works down at the tattoo shop, The Inkwell. They’ve got some of Taylor’s work for sale hanging in the front of the shop or you can have something custom done for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, dismissing her and tucking into my breakfast.
Figuring The Inkwell was as good a place as any to start my search, I decided to go there after breakfast. On my way out, I stopped at the door to look at the picture a little closer. I had never been that drawn to artwork before. I was just about to put the whole thing out of my mind when I saw it. In the corner, by the artist’s signature, was a tiny little phoenix. My phoenix.
Suddenly, I was assaulted by a flood of memories. Annabelle drawing the same little phoenix on my hand during one of our dates. Annabelle doodling the same phoenix all over her notebooks. Me giving her custom made earrings and a matching necklace of the same phoenix. Annabelle drawing a larger, more detailed version of that phoenix on paper and giving it to me for Christmas. Annabelle loved to draw and was damn good at it, too. After seeing it, I had no doubt in my mind the artist known as Taylor Davis was indeed Annabelle Burnett.
The Inkwell was easy enough to find. Luckily, there were several other businesses around and a few of them had benches out front. I took a seat and watched the shop from afar. It wasn’t long before I spotted a petite woman with an odd mixture of black and blonde hair falling well past her shoulders inside the shop. She moved around with a confidence I hadn’t ever seen in Annabelle. Her body and size matched what I imagined Annabelle’s would be, but the hair color was different, though it could have been dyed. If I could get a look at her face, I would know for sure.
The woman disappeared into the back of the shop for long periods of time before reappearing near the front. Each time, she never looked toward the front of the shop. After several hours of trying to catch a glimpse of her face, I decided to go back to my hotel room for a few hours and come back in the evening. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself and I would do just that if I continued to sit on a bench and stare at the woman through the window. My exhaustion was catching up with me, despite my best efforts to ignore it, and I needed to catch up on some rest before I went back and tried to see her face. I could have just walked into the shop and asked to speak to her, but I needed to know it really was her before I went inside. I knew I couldn’t handle it if it turned out the woman in the window wasn’t my Annabelle.