When Darkness Falls(8)

They stood in the vestibule, between two sets of glass doors. A few snowflakes sprinkled Devon’s hair, but it looked unruffled in contrast to how tangled and wet hers was. “No shit. Let’s go where it’s warmer.”

Heat blasted from a metal duct to the right of the escalators leading down to the terminal. Haley shook out her scarf and mittens, which had gotten soaked in the few minutes she’d been outside. Her fingers felt icy. Devon wore a sweatshirt under his leather jacket. He must have had the hood up to keep his hair dry, though the hood didn’t look damp either.

“What are you doing here?” Haley said.

“I was going to surprise you at the clinic, but you were already getting into the car, so I followed you over here.”

“Where’s your car?”

Haley couldn’t imagine he’d left the car on the street where it would be obscured by the snow and likely to be smashed into. But there couldn’t have been time for him to take it to his parking garage and walk or run back here.

“Huh? I was—” He paused, his eyes turning upward the way they did when he was on stage and forgot the words to a song. “—in a cab. The car’s snowed in and I didn’t feel like shoveling.”

Haley unbuttoned her coat. Her heartbeat had finally gone back to normal. “You really, really scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to.” Devon kissed her again. Haley moved closer, enjoying the warmth of his body, the anticipation of the next time they could be alone. “Forgive me?” he said.

“If you buy me a hot chocolate.”

“Come home with me and I’ll make you some.”

“And we’ll get no sleep, and I’ll have to go to work in the same clothes tomorrow,” Haley said.

“And? OK, I’ll get you some here.”

They stepped onto the escalator. There was a Corner Bakery on the station’s mid-level.

“Isn’t it your night to tend bar?” Haley said.

“Al and I traded. I missed you. Sure you won’t come back with me?”

“Tomorrow,” she said.

The warmth and dark sweetness of the hot chocolate and his lips stayed with her as she rode the train home and as she walked four blocks through the snow to her apartment. Its emptiness didn’t bother her quite so much tonight.

? ? ?

His eyes snapped open. He could still feel the woman’s breasts, soft beneath his hands, taste her skin, smell her perfume and sweat.

His heartbeat slowed after a few minutes, and his breathing grew less labored. He rolled onto his side, plumped his pillow under his head. It was damp, almost soaked. It must have been a worse dream than he’d thought to have sweated so much.

He flipped the pillow, lay down again, and drifted into sleep.

Everything shifted. He smelled soap, and he was five years old and in the bathtub, shivering because the water had cooled. His parents were screaming at one another. They’d forgotten him in the tub….

? ? ?

Haley read about a second murder three days later, this time of a twenty-something stockbroker in Lincoln Park. The body had been found after the snowdrifts melted, and the date of death was unclear. Haley wondered if that assailant had been out during the winter storm after all. She started carrying pepper spray with her, and she stayed more vigilant than usual when she walked alone. When she sang with the wedding band on the few jobs they got during early December, she used a car from the car sharing service. She never drank, careful to stay alert both for the drive and the walk from the car’s parking space to her apartment five blocks away. Having a cop for a dad had always made her more aware of threats than most people, and now she was more so.

But most of her thoughts were reserved for Devon. And his proposal.





Chapter Four


Once every other week, Haley had dinner with her mother and tried not to talk about anything personal. Because that only got her one of two responses—a total lack of interest or criticism. She saved any good news, or troubles, to share with her friends. She usually tried to meet one of them after seeing her mother to take the edge off. But she hadn’t been able to do that this time. Kari was working late at the lighting store where she and Haley had met as coworkers, and Haley hadn’t yet reconnected with her and Brian’s friends. She wasn’t sure she was going to.

Her mother set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table and sat across from Haley. As they ate, Doris related the latest news from the village senior center. Haley had been a late baby, born when her mom was in her forties.

“How’s the new job?”

Haley cut into her chicken breast, struggling with the dull knife. Her mother still used the same set of dinnerware she’d had since Haley was a kid. “I like it.”

“They should pay you more.”

“Non-profits never pay much. And the band adds some income.”

Haley was enjoying singing again. It gave her a feeling of support to be in front of the crowd with four other musicians, instead of only her and Brian. At the same time, she liked being the center of attention for a change rather than the harmony singer and rhythm guitar player. They didn’t get a lot of work, as most people didn’t hire live bands anymore for weddings, but when they did, she had fun and got paid. And got to feel like a musician again.

“I don’t know why you didn’t apply for the opening at the bank.”