When Darkness Falls(66)

On the return drive to Redondo Beach, Haley ran through what she would say to Devon. But she couldn’t think of anything new, of anything she hadn’t already tried. She still worried that she’d find Lydia waiting for her, rather than Devon. But she had a plan, one she prayed would work, to be sure only Devon was in the house. It would take some luck and some help from a friend. If it didn’t work, Haley would need to drive around for another hour or two, circling the house, to check any vehicles outside it.

? ? ?

Lydia woke around two A.M. and leaped out of bed. It was time. She’d deliberately refrained from hunting after she’d left Devon, determined to enjoy every second of the night before her, which meant being hungry. Of course, Devon might get to Haley first, but she doubted it. His love for Haley, and his guilt over being caught this evening, would make him at least try to adhere to her desire that he not arrive until early morning. In the meantime, while he was struggling with his instincts and his love, Lydia would already be there.





Chapter Thirty-Two


Joe and Diana’s driveway was empty of cars. Haley cruised the streets for half a mile around the house and didn’t see Lydia’s Camry or anything that looked like a rental car, though it was hard to tell about the latter at night because she couldn’t see plates. On the seat next to Haley was a paper bag with three cloves of garlic. The rosary hung around her neck and under her shirt.

She parked on the street, tucked her keys into her inside jacket pocket, and left her purse in the car. She hesitated near the house she’d parked in front of. It would have been perfect, as it had a large picture window, through which she could watch for Devon. But Haley didn’t know the people who lived there. She walked on, heading instead for a large stucco house a little ways down the block. It didn’t offer as good a view, but Haley had met the owner, Wendy Gibson, at parties Joe and Diana had given.

A gray sedan was parked in the driveway, and a light was on upstairs. With a shaking hand, Haley rang the doorbell. If this didn’t work, she’d try the home of another neighbor she’d met. After that, her only option was to drive around until five-thirty. She’d feel much safer in someone’s home.

The door opened a few inches. Through the crack, Haley saw Wendy. She had faint smudges of mascara under her eyes and wore a dark blue cotton robe.

“Sorry I woke you,” Haley said. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Joe and Diana’s friend, Haley Black.”

“Haley?”

“We met at a few of their yard parties. I was playing music with my partner, Brian, a tall blond-haired guy.”

“They know so many musicians,” Wendy said. “But you do look familiar. What are you doing here?”

Haley fought the urge to look back over her shoulder for Devon or Lydia. She hadn’t heard any cars come down the street.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m in a little trouble. I locked my keys—including my key to the house—and purse in my rental car, and the agency’s not open until morning. I can’t get in the house. You don’t have a spare, do you?” she said, praying Wendy didn’t have one. If she did, why would Joe and Diana have taken the trouble of hiding one in the garage?

“No, sorry. I thought they kept a spare—”

“In the nuts and bolts can,” Haley said. “That’s the one I was using.” She hoped knowing where the key was would help vouch for her actually being a friend, as Wendy obviously didn’t remember her very well.

“Do you want me to call Triple A?”

“I really could use a place to sleep until early morning when I’ll call the rental agency. But right now, I’m exhausted.”

“Well—”

“I’m only here because my husband’s ill. He’s in the hospital, and Joe and Diana were nice enough to let me stay at their place.” Haley stumbled a little over her words in her anxiousness to convince Wendy to let her in. “I can’t afford a hotel, with all the medical bills. My husband’s a musician, so no insurance. Joe and Diana are helping me out.”

Wendy opened the door wider, despite that, to Haley’s own ears, her rambling sounded forced and false.

“I’ll be out of your hair before you’re out of bed in the morning, I promise. I know it’s an imposition.”

Wendy turned on the porch light and looked Haley over. “I do remember you. You played with Brian Janis, the banjo player. He was a great guy. How’s he doing?”

The way Wendy said it, Haley knew Brian had slept with her. Had probably told her he and Haley were not dating, were only music partners, a line she’d learned later he used whenever he thought he could get away with it. He usually added that Haley had a bit of thing for him and had a jealous streak, which kept the women from asking Haley anything.

“He’s doing great. He’s playing at a festival out in Oregon.”

“You’re not playing together anymore?”

“We had a falling out.”

Haley shivered, and it wasn’t only so Wendy would feel sorry for her. The desert wind had sharpened, and the night air had taken on a chill.

“You must be freezing,” Wendy said. “I’m sorry. Come inside. It’s so hard to know who to trust these days.”

“Thank you.”