could see it was full of more feathers and something else, old bones and a scrap of fur, maybe a dead animal that a car had flattened on the road up to the hill. Disgusting.
I’d crossed paths with a nut.
He was also clutching something red.
Luna’s collar and leash.
Fear swept through me. I wasn’t going to argue with a wacko in a deserted place. The collar wasn’t worth it. I was going to get the hell out of there as fast as I could. I inched back and was about to slide off the embankment into the brambles when the man looked up.
It was John Savenue. He stared at me. He looked the same, blond hair and good-looking face, the same cold taunting eyes.
It took all my strength to break away from his stare, scramble down the embankment, and run through the underbrush toward the car. My legs wouldn’t move fast enough. The mud was too thick. It sucked at my boots. Maybe he had a weapon like the hunter on the island and at any moment I would hear a thock that would take off half my head. I slipped in the mud, wrenched my boot out with both hands, and struggled across the soggy ground.
The field was too long. I wasn’t going to make it.
I stumbled over the stone wall by the woods, banged my knee, ducked under the low branches, and looked back. John Savenue had climbed down the embankment. He’d thrown the canvas bag full of dead stuff over his shoulder and was lurching over the ground.
He was coming after me and closing the gap.
I made it to the road. No remote door opener for the classic car. With a gasp, I struggled uphill, reached the Camaro, dug in my pocket for the keys, dropped them on the pavement like an idiot, and scooped them up with the key ring dripping wet and plastered with leaves.
The key wouldn’t fit. It was upside down.
John Savenue reached the road. He was racing up the hill now. Shaking, I managed to climb into the car and slam and lock the doors seconds before he caught up with me.
The storm pummeled the car. He stood right outside my window with his dead eyes and mocking smile while the rain ran down his slicker. “You have something that belongs to me,” he said through the glass.
“ I don’t have anything of yours,” I yelled and tried to start the ignition.
“ Oh, yes, you do.”
“ No, I don’t, and you have my dog’s collar.”
He dangled the leash and collar in the air with a six-fingered hand. “Here, you little bitch. Just step out of the car and take them.”
I slammed my boot on the gas and took off up the hill. The road twisted. My heart was pounding so fast I thought I might black out. The bastard didn’t have a car, at least not nearby, but I kept my eyes glued to the rearview mirror until I reached the Emmitsburg Road, half-expecting to see him flying after me like a ghoul.
* * *
Still looking over my shoulder, I sped into Professor Wu’s driveway, put the Camaro in the garage, and left the Prius out. Once I made it into the house, I checked the doors and changed into dry jeans and a black sweater.
Picking up bones and feathers and dead animals in the rain. An absolute psycho.
Out of nowhere the doorbell rang. My blood froze. I crept to a window that overlooked the front of the house and held my breath. Mike. I’d forgotten all about him. Shaking my head, I spread some of the medicine I’d just bought over my ugly wrists and hid my hands in a pair of gloves.
“ Hey, Amy,” he said when I opened the door. He had two tall cups of coffee and a bag of pastries. Turkish coffee, my favorite, from July Thunder. “I picked up some coffee for us and some cranberry scones.”
“ Smells wonderful. What do I owe you?”
He shook his head. “This is on me.”
“ That’s a nice present.”
“ No, I have something else for you.”
“ Let me get my purse then. You paid last time.”
“ No, no, this is on me.”
“ Well, okay, but no more,” I told him. We took the scones and coffee into the living room. The storm made the house so
I’d crossed paths with a nut.
He was also clutching something red.
Luna’s collar and leash.
Fear swept through me. I wasn’t going to argue with a wacko in a deserted place. The collar wasn’t worth it. I was going to get the hell out of there as fast as I could. I inched back and was about to slide off the embankment into the brambles when the man looked up.
It was John Savenue. He stared at me. He looked the same, blond hair and good-looking face, the same cold taunting eyes.
It took all my strength to break away from his stare, scramble down the embankment, and run through the underbrush toward the car. My legs wouldn’t move fast enough. The mud was too thick. It sucked at my boots. Maybe he had a weapon like the hunter on the island and at any moment I would hear a thock that would take off half my head. I slipped in the mud, wrenched my boot out with both hands, and struggled across the soggy ground.
The field was too long. I wasn’t going to make it.
I stumbled over the stone wall by the woods, banged my knee, ducked under the low branches, and looked back. John Savenue had climbed down the embankment. He’d thrown the canvas bag full of dead stuff over his shoulder and was lurching over the ground.
He was coming after me and closing the gap.
I made it to the road. No remote door opener for the classic car. With a gasp, I struggled uphill, reached the Camaro, dug in my pocket for the keys, dropped them on the pavement like an idiot, and scooped them up with the key ring dripping wet and plastered with leaves.
The key wouldn’t fit. It was upside down.
John Savenue reached the road. He was racing up the hill now. Shaking, I managed to climb into the car and slam and lock the doors seconds before he caught up with me.
The storm pummeled the car. He stood right outside my window with his dead eyes and mocking smile while the rain ran down his slicker. “You have something that belongs to me,” he said through the glass.
“ I don’t have anything of yours,” I yelled and tried to start the ignition.
“ Oh, yes, you do.”
“ No, I don’t, and you have my dog’s collar.”
He dangled the leash and collar in the air with a six-fingered hand. “Here, you little bitch. Just step out of the car and take them.”
I slammed my boot on the gas and took off up the hill. The road twisted. My heart was pounding so fast I thought I might black out. The bastard didn’t have a car, at least not nearby, but I kept my eyes glued to the rearview mirror until I reached the Emmitsburg Road, half-expecting to see him flying after me like a ghoul.
* * *
Still looking over my shoulder, I sped into Professor Wu’s driveway, put the Camaro in the garage, and left the Prius out. Once I made it into the house, I checked the doors and changed into dry jeans and a black sweater.
Picking up bones and feathers and dead animals in the rain. An absolute psycho.
Out of nowhere the doorbell rang. My blood froze. I crept to a window that overlooked the front of the house and held my breath. Mike. I’d forgotten all about him. Shaking my head, I spread some of the medicine I’d just bought over my ugly wrists and hid my hands in a pair of gloves.
“ Hey, Amy,” he said when I opened the door. He had two tall cups of coffee and a bag of pastries. Turkish coffee, my favorite, from July Thunder. “I picked up some coffee for us and some cranberry scones.”
“ Smells wonderful. What do I owe you?”
He shook his head. “This is on me.”
“ That’s a nice present.”
“ No, I have something else for you.”
“ Let me get my purse then. You paid last time.”
“ No, no, this is on me.”
“ Well, okay, but no more,” I told him. We took the scones and coffee into the living room. The storm made the house so
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