Two Days Gone (Ryan DeMarco Mystery #1)(53)

“At Whispers.”

“Did you spend time with him there?”

“A little.”

“A private couch dance?”

“That’s what he paid for but…”

“But what?”

“That’s not what we did. We never did that.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Just talked.”

“In the room where the couch dances are held. You talked.”

“That’s all we ever did, I swear.”

“Okay. And what did you talk about?”

“He was writing a book about a dancer. So he would ask me stuff.”

“What kind of stuff, Danni?”

“Stuff a writer would want to know, I guess. Like how did it feel when I was up on the stage or in the champagne room with a guy. What I thought about when they were watching me. What I thought about when I went home.”

DeMarco nodded. “That’s only three questions though. And he visited Whispers five, six times, am I right?”

“After the first time it really wasn’t like an interview, you know? I mean…we just talked. He was a nice guy, he was very sweet.”

“Are you telling me that there was no physical involvement between the two of you in the champagne room?”

“There wasn’t. I swear. I sat beside him on the love seat. We just talked. That’s all we ever did.”

“And you never saw him outside of Whispers?”

“Just that first time.”

“Tell me about that first time, Danni.”

“I was jogging one morning. I like to jog early when there’s nobody else around.”

“And this was in Erie?”

“No, it was here.”

“I didn’t see a park here in town.”

“There’s the Borough Park, but that’s not where I was. It was on the bike path. It runs alongside the railroad tracks and across the extension canal. All the way into Shadytown.”

“And Shadytown is where?”

“About three miles south of here.”

“And where along this bike path did you meet Thomas Huston?”

“Shadytown is just a tiny, little village. I don’t think it even has a post office. But just off Route 18, there’s this little place beside the canal. I don’t even know if it has a name. It’s just a couple of picnic tables and barbecue grills, but the bike path runs through it for another hundred yards or so. Then it just ends.”

“So you run in one direction, then you turn around and run back.”

She nodded, chewed on her lip, sat with her hands shoved underneath her thighs.

“And Thomas was where along this path?”

“In the park. At the first picnic table.”

“And you came jogging along and…”

“Most of the way, there’s either the railroad tracks or the canal on the one side of the path. On the right side going to Shadytown, on the left coming back.”

“And on the other side there’s what? Route 18?”

“Yeah, but you can’t see it from the path. There’s always trees or heavy brush on that side. Except for the traffic noise, you’d never even know it’s there.”

“And you feel safe running there in the early morning?”

“I carry pepper spray and a whistle.”

DeMarco smiled. Christ, he thought.

She said, “So anyway, just as the bike path enters the little picnic area, that side opens up into a big clearing with the tables and stuff. The first table is like right beside where the brush ends. In fact, when you’re on the path, you can’t even see the table until you’re right beside it, and it’s like maybe three feet from the edge of the path.”

“And that’s where Thomas was sitting.”

“It was so startling, you know. I’ve never seen anybody there in the morning. Then suddenly there’s this guy.”

“So what happened?”

“He scared me. ’Cause he was like… He told me he had heard my footsteps coming. He could hear me breathing, you know? So he was sitting there sort of leaning forward, trying to see around the edge of the brush. But it’s sort of misty, the way it always is in the morning, especially if it’s rained the night before. And I’m on top of him before either one of us knows it. I almost ran into his head.”

She was smiling now, staring at the floor. DeMarco waited.

She said, “He jerked out of the way just in time, and I guess maybe I screamed a little bit, more of a loud gasp, you know? Anyway, I tripped over my own feet and almost ended up in the canal.”

“Then what?”

“He got up to help me. But by then I had my pepper spray out.” Her smiled widened. “He was so funny. He put both hands in the air and sat back down and said, ‘I’m not moving. I’m staying right here. Just tell me if you’re okay.’”

“And were you?”

“Except that I’d twisted my ankle.”

“So how did you get back home?”

“We just stayed like that for maybe fifteen minutes, him on the picnic table, me with my pepper spray out. He told me his name, where he taught, the names of his kids and his wife… He even tossed me his wallet so I could look at the pictures and his ID. So finally…I said okay. I let him drive me back home.”