"You're a very generous tipper," Vicki remarked as she cleared the table.
"I like the service."
"Thank you. Good night."
With a nod, he turned and left the diner.
The Blue Horse was in full swing when Vicki followed Bobbie Sue inside. The lights were low, the music loud, the air thick with the combined smells of perfume and perspiration, lust and alcohol.
They made their way to the bar, where Bobbie Sue ordered a cosmopolitan and Vicki ordered a strawberry margarita. As she sipped her drink, Vicki nodded at several people that she recognized.
"Look, there's Linda Fay," Bobbie Sue said, pointing at a brunette who, unfortunately, had a long face that resembled a horse's. "She always was a homely thing, bless her heart."
Vicki nodded sympathetically. A few minutes later, Bobbie Sue went to dance with Steve Mitchell. Steve was a handsome young man who'd had a crush on Bobbie Sue ever since high school. Unfortunately, Bobbie Sue didn't see him as anything but a good friend.
A moment later, a good-looking guy strolled up to the bar and asked Vicki if she wanted to dance. They were making the usual small talk when Vicki felt a sudden chill. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze drawn to a man standing at the end of the bar. He was tall and slender, with slicked-back blond hair. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and black slacks with a sharp crease.
Her heart skipped a beat when he pushed away from the wall. No, she thought, please don't let him ask me to dance. But even as the thought rose in her mind he was skirting the dance floor, walking toward her.
Her partner let her go with a smile and a murmured, "see you later," and then the stranger was taking her in his arms. He held her tightly, his hands cold on hers. This close, she could see that his eyes were a rusty yellow, like the color of dead leaves.
"So," he said, "do you come here often?"
The sound of his voice sent a shiver of unease down her spine. "No," she lied. "Do you?"
"From time to time." Releasing her hand, he reached out to stroke her hair. "Lovely," he said. "Is it your natural shade?"
She stared at him, remembering that Duncan had asked her that very same question.
"No," she lied. "No, it's dyed."
Lifting a lock of her hair, he sniffed it. "I think not."
"I have to go." She twisted out of his grasp and hurried toward the bar where Bobbie Sue was chatting with Steve.
"Hey, girlfriend," Bobbie Sue said, smiling.
"Bobbie Sue, we need to go. Now."
"Why?"
"Please, Bobbie Sue, take me home."
"Sure, hon." Bobbie Sue kissed Steve's cheek. "Catch ya later, sugar."
"Come on!" Vicki grabbed Bobbie Sue's hand and practically dragged her out of the tavern.
"Vicki, slow down! What's with you?"
"That man in there. The one I was dancing with. The blond… I… He gave me the creeps."
"Is that all?"
"No! I think"— she glanced nervously over her shoulder as Bobbie Sue unlocked the car doors— "I think he might be the murderer."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yes. Quick, get us out of here!"
"Don't tell me twice!" Bobbie Sue gunned the engine to life and drove out of the parking lot, tires squealing.
Vicki looked out the back window, her heart pounding. "Drive around for a few minutes. I want to make sure he's not following us."
"Vicki, you're scaring me."
"Good, cause I'm plenty scared myself!"
Bobbie Sue glanced in the rearview mirror. "Do you see anyone?"
"No." Vicki sank back in her seat, suddenly wishing that Antonio were there. She wouldn't be afraid if he was with her. The thought surprised her but it was true. In spite of everything, she felt safe with Antonio. She glanced over her shoulder again, but there were no lights following from behind.
"So, how's it going with Steve?"
Bobbie Sue shook her head. "It isn't."
"You know he's crazy about you. Do you think it's fair to keep leading him on?"
"I'm not leading him on. He knows how I feel. I mean, he's just as sweet as can be and fun to be with, but it's like dating my brother. I mean, I love him, but I'm not in love with him. It's like you and Arnie. There's just no spark. You know what I mean?"
"Only too well." Vicki glanced out the back window again.
"Sometimes I don't think we'll ever get married. Maybe we should move to greener pastures."
"Yeah, that's what my mother says."
"Is anyone following us?"
"I don't think so."
Bobbie Sue drove around for ten minutes, then headed for the diner. It was closed when they got there, the parking lot dark, when Bobbie Sue pulled up beside Vicki's car.
"Do you want me to follow you home?" Bobbie Sue asked.
Vicki considered that a moment, men shook her head. "I don't think so." She laughed self-consciously. "Maybe I was just overreacting."
"Well, you know what my mama always says, better safe than sorry. Have a good weekend. I'll see you Monday."
"Night, Bobbie Sue."
Vicki unlocked her car and got behind the wheel, quickly locking the door behind her. In spite of what she'd told Bobbie Sue, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her as she pulled out of the parking lot and made her way down the dark, deserted streets toward home. A shiver skittered down her spine when she drove past Sharlene's house. She needed to visit Sharlene's folks, but she just couldn't. What could she say? What kind of comfort could you offer someone whose daughter had died such a horrible death? How did a family ever get past the tragedy and move on?
Vicki slowed as her house came into view. Until now, she had always loved the fact that her house was the last on the block and that the woods started where the street ended.
Now, she felt suddenly vulnerable and alone.
As she had the night before, she opted to park in front of the house instead of in the garage. Shutting off the ignition, she wished she had remembered to leave the porch light on.
Grabbing her handbag, she got out of the car and ran up the stairs to the front door. Her hand was shaking so badly, she couldn't get the key in the lock.
"Here," said a deep, familiar voice, "let me."
"Antonio." She wondered if he heard the relief in her voice.
Taking the key from her hand, he unlocked the door, then handed it to her.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. When she turned to thank him, she saw that he was still outside. "Well, don't just stand there, come on in."
He followed her into the house, his presence putting all her fears to flight.
"What has you so upset this evening?" he asked, though he knew very well why she was upset.
Vicki dropped her handbag on the sofa and ran a hand through her hair. "I… It's probably nothing, but… " She sank down in the chair across from the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. "I went out to the Blue Horse with Bobbie Sue. It's a dive a few miles from town. There was a man there… He, I don't know, he just seemed spooky somehow, and he asked about my hair."
"Go on."
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. "He asked me if it was natural. There was something about the way he said it." She shivered. "I guess I let my imagination get the best of me. Anyway, I made Bobbie Sue drive me back to my car. And even though I didn't see anyone following me home… " Her frown deepened. "I was sure there was someone behind me." The way she had been sure the other night, only to find that it had been Antonio following her. "Maybe he was using some other means of transportation, too," she murmured, remembering what he had said the other night.
"Do not assume that I am like him," Battista said.
"Were you following me?" she asked, hoping he would say yes.
He nodded.
"Who was that man?" she asked. "Who are you? What are you doing in Pear Blossom Creek?"
"He is a murderer," Battista replied calmly. "A man without conscience or rectitude."
"That doesn't tell me who you are."
"Perhaps I shall tell you one day."
"Why not now?"
"You would not believe me."
"Why are you here?" She frowned. "Did you come here to find him?"
"No. The fact that we are both here is mere coincidence."
"So, what is it you do for a living?"
He shrugged. "I have no employment at the moment."
"Really?" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you live around here?"
He resisted the urge to say he did not live at all. "No."
"Well, since you don't work, you can't be on vacation, so what brings you here?"
His gaze moved over her, lingering on her lips. "Fate, perhaps?"
Warmth spread through her, pooling deep within her being. "You're not married or anything, are you?"
"No, my sweet one. I would not be here with you if I were."
She nodded, then covered a yawn with her hand. "Sorry."
He glanced toward the window. "It grows late. I should let you get your rest."
She nodded, but he saw the fear in her eyes, fear of spending the night alone.
"I can stay, if you wish."
"Would you?"
He nodded. "I will keep watch outside."
"No! I mean, shouldn't you stay in here? I mean, wouldn't you rather stay in here? You'll be more comfortable."
"As you wish."
"I'll get you a blanket," she said. "And a pillow, and you can bed down on the sofa. Or you can watch TV for a while if you're not tired… " She closed her mouth. She was babbling, but she couldn't help it. His offer to spend the night had seemed like a godsend at first. But now, she wasn't so sure. Earlier, she had convinced herself she felt safe with him. Now that he was here, she was suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him, of having him spend the night in her house. After all, what did she really know about him?