All the Dark Places(78)

“That’s good. Rest is vital.”

“How’s the case coming along?” Scott asks. “The cops find anything new?”

I shake my head. “Not that they’ve told me.”

“They talked to all of us. Did you know that?” Cal says, eyes narrowing. He leans against the counter.

“About what?”

“Last summer. The night of the Fourth when that woman was killed.”

“Huh.”

Scott sips his beer. “You still need that window replaced?”

“Yes. At some point. I’ll let you know.”

Kim walks in, with Willow behind her. “Juice, Mommy,” Willow says.

“Yes, sweetie. I’ll get it.” While Kim pours Willow’s drink, Josh comes in.

“Time for cake?” he asks, his eyes glancing at the clock. Kim nods and starts getting out the plates and flatware.

It all seems reminiscent of Jay’s party, and it’s hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago. So much has changed.

Josh carries the cake into the dining room, and we all gather around and sing. Kim bends over, eyes shining, and blows out the candles. I wonder if she made a wish. I would have.

The afternoon bleeds into evening, and I’ve had a little too much wine while dodging everyone who tried to maneuver me into an uncomfortable conversation.

I give Kim a hug. “I have to get going. I need to walk Sadie.”

She whispers, “Call me any time if you need to talk.”

“I will.” I scurry outside and take a deep breath, hoping the cold air sobers me up. I’m glad to be out of there and on my way back to my house and my dog.

*

Sadie and I hurry down the sidewalk. It’s dark, and I don’t want to be out here too long. At least the media hasn’t realized I’m back yet, but that will probably change. Corrine said they were camped in front of her building for a couple days after I left, until they figured out that I wasn’t there or at least wasn’t coming out. The traffic is light. It’s dinnertime, and most people are home or out at a restaurant. We approach the gas station, and I stand still for a couple of minutes. Maybe I ought to go in and pick up some snacks for the night. My pantry is just about bare. Two young men exit the building and glance in my direction. They’re muffled up in coats and gloves, hats pulled low. They light cigarettes, smoke tendrils wafting into the night, and jump into a pickup truck.

I hesitate a moment longer, then Sadie and I go inside the store. It’s warm and a little busy. I wend my way to the snack aisle and select a bag of Oreos and a couple of giant-size Milky Way bars. Might as well go whole hog while I’m at it. I pay for my treats, and Sadie and I head outside.

I hear a woman shriek behind me, and I freeze, but she’s laughing, I realize. Sadie and I start back down the sidewalk, away from the lights of the gas station. There’s an alley, then a vacant commercial building, before the houses start up.

It’s full dark, and there are places between the streetlights, lengths of sidewalk completely in the shadow. I hurry Sadie along when I hear footsteps behind me. I pick up the pace, but the person behind me matches my stride. My heart drums loudly, and I walk more quickly. He’s too close. I hear his heavy breath. Then a strong arm circles my waist and a gloved hand crushes my mouth. I try to scream, but my breath is trapped, my heart racing. Is he my caller or someone else? I drop Sadie’s leash and struggle to pull away. I kick, but his grip only tightens, and he’s pulling me into the alley.

No, no, no! I won’t let anyone hurt me. Not again. I make a sound like a rabid animal and reach back and tear at the man’s face, but my gloves shield my fingernails. He rips my jacket away, and I take a step to run, but then I feel a sharp jab in my arm. Cold waves surge through my veins, and I know I’m sinking. I stagger a step or two, but he pulls me close against his chest. I slip through his grasp and tumble face-first to the ground, unable to right myself, unable to move. I taste dirt. Just like before.





CHAPTER 60


Rita


I WAS IN COURT YESTERDAY AND ANXIOUS TO GET BACK TO THE STATION and get back to work on the Bradley case. Unfortunately, I got tangled up in one thing after another, as sometimes happens, and Friday was a bust. So I came in this morning, hoping to make up for my unfruitful day yesterday.

Joe came in after noon and worked in the conference room for a while. We all feel a sense of urgency over the Robb-Bradley case, but a certain malaise too—looking at each other for something, anything that’ll move the investigation along. Nothing much has happened all day, and I collect my things to go home.

Joe pops his head in my office. “Want to go for a drink, Rita? Saturday night, after all.”

“Sounds good. Let me clean up my desk first.” I’ve got papers everywhere, my notebook open. Joe walks in and peruses my work, runs a finger over a sketch of Mrs. Bradley.

“What’s with all the drawings?”

“I like to doodle. Helps me think.” Seems to me he asked me that the last time we worked together.

Noise comes from the squad room, and we head out in the hall to investigate. Chase is leading a man toward the interview rooms. Joe and I follow.

Chase meets us in the hall, having deposited the man inside. “Who’s that?” I ask.

“I found him lurking around Mrs. Bradley’s house.”