Friday morning arrived, and Donovan headed off to work.
While he drove his CR-V north on U.S. 1, he drove past the Harbor Buick dealership and spotted that Buick Special.
“I have to admit, she is gorgeous,” he said while he drove down the road with the thoughts of that old classic Buick on his mind.
He put the thoughts about that car out of his mind while he drove drover closer to the Florida Today newspaper office.
An hour had passed, and Donovan was on his third cup of coffee in his cubicle.
He had spent the past thirty minutes surfing the Internet for crime stories of interest. He was searching for stories that might get him out of his writer’s block.
He was about to stop searching he found a link that was of interest. The link was titled “1962 Buick Special Found at the bottom of Lake Haney in Tennessee.”
Donovan clicked on the link not knowing that once this webpage appeared, it would change his life forever in sixteen days.
He took another drink of coffee while the contents of that webpage appeared on his computer monitor.
“Law officials in the town of Haneyville, Tennessee were surprised when two fishermen spotted a car at the bottom of the Lake Haney yesterday,” he read the article then paused while he took another drink of coffee.
“After the car was brought out of the water, it was learned that it was a nineteen sixty-two Buick Special,” he read then took another drink of coffee.
“Hey Donovan,” Hank said the second he entered the cubicle.
“Good morning, Hank,” Donovan said.
“What ya reading?”
“Some article about an old car found in the bottom of some lake in Tennessee,” replied Hank.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. The title piqued my interest for some reason.”
“Whatever. Anyway, a good article about the police conference yesterday.”
“Thanks,” Donovan said and tried to sneak a peek of that article on his monitor.
“I’m having a staff meeting in ten,” Hank said then he turned around and walked out of the cubicle.
Donovan immediately returned to his eyes to his computer monitor.
“Haneyville Deputy Kent Riley stated that it’s believed that this Buick belonged to eighteen-year-old Tiffany Carlson. Tiffany Carlson went missing on August twenty-first nineteen seventy along with her boyfriend eighteen-year-old Howie Anderson,” he read from the computer monitor.
Donovan got really curious with that article while he stared at it and drank some more coffee. Then he clicked on the slideshow.
The first picture that showed up was the 1962 Buick Special that was pulled out of the lake. It was parked in a clearing area near the sandy bank of the lake. It was full of rust holes and had a layer of mud that covered its red paint job. He clicked for the next photo.
A picture of Tiffany’s high school senior picture appeared on the monitor. He spotted the mole on her upper lip.
Donovan looked at her picture. His eyes widened. There was something about Tiffany that piqued his interest. It was as if he met Tiffany. He shrugged off that feeling then clicked for the next photo.
A picture of Howie’s high school picture appeared on the monitor.
Donovan’s eyes widen some more while he stared at Howie’s picture. He had this strange and robust déjà vu feeling that he met Howie in the past.
He hit the previous button and went back to Tiffany’s picture. He stared at her for a few seconds while he had that same feeling he met Tiffany before in the past.
He hit the next button and went back to Howie’s picture. He stared at her for a few seconds then he got a sudden sharp pain in his chest. The pain disappeared, and he thought he had heartburn.
His desk phone rang. He picked up the receiver while he stared at Howie’s picture.
“Hank said you’re late for his meeting,” a female’s voice said from the phone.
“Okay,” Donovan said while he still stared at Howie’s picture.
He hung up the phone then got up from his desk and headed out of his office.
Donovan walked through the maze of cubicles and arrived in a small conference room.
Hank and the eyes of eight other coworkers were staring at him while they sat around a table.
“Now that Mister Kirby is finally here, we can begin the meeting,” Hank said and looked irritated with Donovan.
Donovan sat down, and Hank started his meeting.
After Hank’s meeting, Donovan rushed back to his cubicle and sat down at his desk.
He immediately opened up that link for the Buick Special found in the Lake Haney.
Donovan spent the next hour sitting at his desk reading that article over and over again. He somehow felt connected with the story and could not get it out of his mind.
While he read that article over again, he would glance at the picture of him, and Lindsey then glanced at the picture of Tiffany.
“I wish I got the chance to know you,” he said while he stared at the picture of Tiffany on his computer monitor.
Then after a few seconds of staring at Tiffany’s picture, he got an idea. He got up from his desk and rushed out of his cubicle.
He almost knocked Hank down the second he rushed down his cubicle aisle.
“Slow down,” Hank scolded Donovan.
“Sorry,” Donovan replied while he rushed away like he was on a mission.
“Where you going?”
“Out to lunch.”
“Be back in thirty, I have an assignment for you.”
“Okay,” Donovan said then he turned right down another aisle and made a beeline to the elevators.
Ten minutes later, Donovan pulled his CR-V into the Harbor Buick dealership.
He parked his CR-V and got out.
Donovan rushed over to that Buick Special still parked in the grass near the road.
He walked around it checking it out again.
“You’re back,” Larry, the salesman’s voice called out from behind Donovan.
Donovan looked at Larry. “I’ll take her.”
Larry looked a little surprised and was not sure he heard correctly. “Did you say you’d take her?”
Donovan nodded in agreement while he glanced back at the Special. “Yep, I want to buy her.”
“Great, let’s go inside and seal the deal,” replied Larry with a smile.
Donovan and Larry walked off and headed to the showroom.
“Do you have a trade?”
“My CR-V,” Donovan replied and pointed at his parked Honda.
“Super,” said Larry and while they continued their walk to the front entrance of the showroom.
An hour had passed, and Donovan drove out of the Harbor Buick dealership the proud owner of that restored 1962 Buick Special.
He headed back north on U.S. 1 to his office.
Donovan arrived back at the office and headed back to his cubicle.
“You’re late,” Hank yelled out from behind Donovan.
Donovan turned around and saw that Hank was pissed. Then he realized that he missed another meeting. “I’m sorry.”
“Where were you?”
“Out buying a car.”
“Buying a car? Couldn’t that wait until after work?”
“No,” Donovan replied then he turned around and headed back to his cubicle.
“You’re on thin ice, Mister Kirby,” yelled out Hank while Donovan went inside his cubicle.
Donovan sat down at his desk and could care less if Hank was pissed. He still had that article about that Buick being found in the Lake Haney on his mind.
He did a search on Tiffany Carlson and Howie Anderson.
The only item of interest that appeared in the search results was that link about the story finding Tiffany’s Buick in the bottom of the Lake Haney.
Donovan was disappointed while he stared at his computer monitor.
The end of the workday finally arrived, and Donovan headed home in his Buick Special.
He parked it in his garage then went inside for some dinner.
Later that night, Donovan was inside his garage and wiped down his Buick Special. This was his new pride and joy.
He opened up the driver’s door and sat in the seat.
He ran his fingers around the steering wheel and thought about that Internet article about Tiffany’s Buick.
He looked back at the backseat and recalled his dream the other night where he felt up the breast of that brown-haired girl. He smiled.
Elsewhere in Lexington, Kentucky, Jodi Lauder was a beautiful woman with shoulder-length brunette hair and soft brown eyes and a small mole on her right upper lip.
Jodi was a single woman who just turned thirty years old. She also worked as a reporter for the Lexington Herald-Leader newspaper. Just like Donovan, she also reported on local crimes in her city.
Jodi lived in a one-bedroom apartment. She just finished dinner and decided to surf the Internet for some stories for work.
Then Jodi stumbled upon the link about the discovery of Tiffany’s 1962 Buick Special in the Lake Haney.
There was something about that “1962 Buick Special Found t the Bottom of Lake Haney in Tennessee” link that piqued her curiosity.
She clicked on that link and waited for the contents to download.
When it finally appeared, she read the article with extreme interest.
After Jodi read the article, she looked at the slideshow.
She stared at the high school picture of Tiffany and Howie. She also had this strange déjà vu feeling that she new both teenagers. But she could not think of how she knew them.
Jodi looked back at the picture of Tiffany and saw the mole on her lip. Jodi touched the mole on her lip and thought that was a strange coincidence.
Jodi reread the article and become intrigued by the story.
Later that night, Jodi got ready for bed.
While her head was on her pillow and she stared at the ceiling, all she could think about was that article about Tiffany and Howie being missing since 1970.
Ten minutes had passed, and Jodi was fast asleep. She started to have a dream…
In her dream, Jodi was driving a 1962 Buick Special with red interior.
A hand with a joint came into her view. She grabbed the joint and took a drag.
She glanced over to her right and saw a young man with long blonde hair, a black tee-shirt, and bell-bottom blue jeans.
She smiled while she handed the guy the joint.
“I love you,” the blonde-haired guy told Jodi when he took the joint.
“I,” Jodi said.
Jodi woke up from her dream before she could finish her sentence. She looked around her bedroom as that dream felt so real. But she never smoked pot in her life.
She closed her eyes and went back to sleep within minutes.