“Oh Sheila,” Elgin snapped, “how could you?”
“Because something needed to be done and obviously you weren’t going to do it,” Sheila replied calmly.
“But a private eye?” Elgin countered, still incredulous at her publisher’s announcement.
“A security professional,” the other woman corrected.
“Well I don’t care what you call it. I will not have some big, dumb rent-a-cop rifling through my life and trailing after me in a Groucho nose and glasses.”
“Surprise,” her friend smiled wickedly, “he’s been investigating this since we found out from the police that panhandler’d been murdered. His company’s also been providing round-the-clock surveillance and security on you and not a Groucho nose anywhere.”
Elgin blinked in disbelief. “Surveillance? Of me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that.” She didn’t sound the least bit convinced.
“Would you like to see the video tapes? I get one every twenty-four hours. And by the way, that guy who gave up the cab for you was a hunk. You should have at least invited him to share.”
Stunned, Elgin dropped into her high back burgundy desk chair. Sheila came to her side and bent over her.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, El,” she soothed, “really, I didn’t. It’s just that you could be in real danger here. Even Mr. Harm thinks there might be a problem. At least something that should be investigated.”
“Mr. Harm?”
“Oh, I forgot. C.A. Harm. He owns Harm’s Way Security. He’s handling this. I checked him out thoroughly and he’s the best there is.”
“But…”
“No ‘buts,’ El,” Sheila cut her off firmly. “I know how you feel about your privacy and I respect that. But face it. Someone’s already invaded that privacy. All Mr. Harm and I are trying to do is find out who and why. And the sooner you start cooperating, the sooner this will all be over and forgotten.”
Elgin exhaled a long, resigned sigh. “Do I have any choice?”
Sheila grinned again. “None. Now get yourself together ‘cause he’s in the living room.”
“I hate this,” Elgin pouted. “And I hate him. And you.”
“I know you do,” Sheila agreed lightly, “and I certainly don’t expect you to be bosom buddies. In fact, I’d settle for you just not clawing his eyes out at this first meeting.”
“No promises,” she sulked, rising from the chair and starting across the room.
They looked, she thought sourly, like Mutt and Jeff as she and Sheila came through the office door and the two men rose from the sofa.
Well, perhaps not two men exactly, she corrected herself silently. More like one tall, fairly nice looking man and a gawky, be-speckled young boy who looked to be about twelve; the only thing missing from his total geek look was a pocket protector.
“Mr. Harm,” Sheila began by way of introduction, “this is Elgin Collier. Ellie, this is C.A. Harm of Harm’s Way Security.”
“Miss Collier,” he said noncommittally, giving her hand a perfunctory shake.
“Mr. Harm,” she replied with an equal lack of emotion.
Oh, Jeez, she grumbled to herself, an alpha male. Strong, assertive type. Like I don’t have enough problems already.
“This is Billy Wendell,” he announced, turning slightly to the young man beside him. “He’s our in-house electronics and technical wizard. He’ll be checking your computer.”
Elgin noted it wasn’t a request, just a statement of fact.
“Checking for what?”
Harm’s mouth turned down ever so slightly, obviously not used to having his word questioned.
But instead of answering, he glanced down at Billy, apparently giving him approval to speak.
Grinning, Billy pushed his thick black glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.
“If you’ve got a stalker,” he explained cheerfully, “he probably came in through your computer. Hacker with…”
“Mr. Harm, Mr. Wendell,” Elgin sliced in sharply, “I’m not a complete technical moron. I’m very familiar with computer bugs and hackers. As a writer, I’m acutely aware of the vulnerability of the Internet and the need to keep prying eyes out of my affairs. I have a very complete security program including anti-virus and firewalls. If there is someone…well, I’m sure he didn’t break into my life through my computer.”
The boyish grin remained unfazed. “I’m sure you’ve probably got good programs,” he agreed, “but hackers are always one step ahead. Not to mention that new worms and Trojan Horses are coming out on the net all the time. A program can’t detect what it doesn’t recognize as harmful. If nothing else, it won’t take very long for me to check you out and if there’s no problem, it’ll be good to know that too.”
“I have a lot of very confidential information on my computer,” Elgin insisted.
“That’s all right,” Billy practically giggled. “I’ve been everywhere. Even the Pentagon computers. Hell, I could tell you what color the Joint Chiefs’ shorts are.”
“What he means,” Harm finished flatly, “is that despite his youthful appearance, Mr. Wendell has a security clearance of the highest level. You can be assured that your confidentiality won’t be breached.”
There was no way around it. She would just have to stand aside and let this techno-geek teen run amok in her personal life.
Bending down, he retrieved a black laptop computer bag.
“If you could show me where your system is?”
Reluctantly, Elgin turned and the four of them moved to her office, Billy plopping down in her chair and critically examining her CPU as he pulled his own laptop from its case and set it on the desk next to her monitor.
“Nice setup,” he commented. “Cable’s way better than DSL.” He plugged a connector wire between his machine and hers and began typing rapidly on his keyboard.
“You’ll need my password,” Elgin told him.
“No I won’t,” he responded gleefully. A few more keystrokes and his computer screen suddenly filled with her e-mail.
“Hey,” she shrieked, “how did you do that?”
“Not hard,” he answered, his eyes never leaving the screen or his fingers the keyboard.
“I demand to know…” she began but stopped when a flashing red highlight suddenly appeared over one of her e-mails.
“There it is,” Billy crowed triumphantly.
“What is that?” Sheila asked, leaning over the boy’s shoulder a little.
“Trojan Horse,” he told her. “This is my own program. It’s designed to ferret out unwanted e-mail hitchhikers. Blue is a virus, yellow a worm and red is a Trojan Horse. Once it activated, whoever planted it had open access to your system.”
“But…but that’s impossible,” Elgin cried even as the screen blinked red. “Look, it’s in the ‘delete’ file. I never even opened it.”
“Didn’t need to,” the young man continued. “Once it was here, it launched by itself.”
“Nine weeks ago,” Harm said almost to himself as he read the e-mail’s date.
“Yep. Just about when you figured. Want me to see how bad it is?”
Harm nodded once and the kid’s fingers flew over the keys again. For several minutes, they watched silently as Billy went methodically through Elgin’s computer. Finally, he looked up.
“Total breach,” he told Harm, his voice now serious. “E-mail, incoming and outgoing, schedule, To-do list, shopping, surfing the net, everything. Even the writing. He’s been sitting right here, keystroke by keystroke.”
Elgin felt suddenly lightheaded and nauseous. As if her home had been broken into. As if she’d been personally violated. Sheila grabbed her arm and got her to a chair just as her knees gave out.
But the two men seem oblivious to everything but the computer monitor.
“Here’s where he got the flower and candy,” Billy remarked as they went through her list of favorite websites.
“And there’s the bra and panty sizes,” Harm noted as a mail order lingerie shop rolled by.
“All her schedules and appointments. He knew everything about her practically before she did.”
“Can you track him?”
Billy frowned. “I can put a trace on the computer but we’ll have to wait until he logs on again.”
“Okay, get everything set up.”
Harm turned, surprised to see Elgin so pale and shaken.
“Billy’s going to be running a few more tests,” he said quietly. “Perhaps we should go back in the living room.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Sheila agreed quickly. “I’ll have Martha get us some fresh coffee. You all right, El?”
Elgin nodded and stood up. Instantly, the room listed to port and she put out her hand to steady herself. Without thinking, Harm’s hand flew out and caught her, feeling her limp weight against him for a moment, a ripple of mini-firecrackers exploding through his body. She shifted herself slightly and leaned on Sheila, sliding out of his grasp but leaving a distinct tingle on his skin.
“So Mr. Harm,” Sheila asked quietly, “what now?”
He took another sip of coffee. Good, he thought idly. Unless his taste buds deceived him, a rich, hearty Colombian served in a mug big enough for a man to get his hand around. He despised weak, watery, flavored coffees served in tiny, fragile China cups.
After they’d settled on the sofa and coffee had been served, there’d been a few minutes to let the shock wear off and the reality set in. Now they had to pick up the pieces.
“Well,” he answered slowly, “Billy’s putting a tap on the computer as we speak. It’ll alert us the next time our friend logs on. With any luck, we should be able to follow the electronic breadcrumbs right back to his lair. Once we’ve pinpointed him, you can swear out a complaint and wherever he is, the local police can handle it.
“We’ll also install a new security program on the computer that will continuously update, looking for viruses, worms and Trojans and automatically send a signal to our central monitoring location if someone tries to break in again. It’s not perfect by any means but it’s definitely an improvement over what’s there right now.”
“How…how long do you think it will be before he…he comes back?” The uncertainty and fear in her voice seemed far removed from the tough, strong image she’d given him at first.
“Hard telling,” he replied carefully, “but probably not long. My guess is that he probably checks in at least once a day to keep tabs on you.”
She flinched a little and shut her eyes tightly. For some inexplicable reason, Harm felt a twinge in his chest.
“Until we catch whoever is doing this,” he continued, “you’ll have to make some adjustments.”
“Adjustments?” Elgin repeated, opening her eyes. “What sort of adjustments?”
“Well, for one thing, you’re going to have to change your schedule. One thing I’ve seen since surveillance started is that you’re very much a creature of habit.”
Something flashed in those dark eyes.
“I lead an ordered life if that’s what you mean,” she shot back coldly. “It’s one of the ways I maintain the discipline I need to write. My busy life makes scheduling imperative.”
“Yes, well, I understand that, Miss Collier,” Harm replied, feeling a little tense himself, “but predictability in this situation makes you vulnerable. Makes it possible for someone to make plans of his own. Plans that may not be as pleasant as yours.”
“I like my life the way it is,” she answered flatly.
“And hopefully, we can track this person, have the police apprehend him and you can have your ordered life back. But until that happens, your personal security is our primary objective. Right now, he knows a great deal about you and we know nothing about him. That gives him a tremendous and potentially catastrophic advantage. By denying him that advantage, we level the playing field.”
“I would think that any change in my routine would alert this person that he’s been discovered and send him into hiding. I’d think it would be far better for me to just keep going as if nothing’s wrong.”
“By now he knows that you’ve received his gifts and that you’re aware, however dimly, of his presence. The fact that he’s spooked you into altering your routine will probably delight him no end. Make him feel powerful and closer to you by exercising his control. It may even make him bolder and bring him out into the open. But he doesn’t know that we’re on to him so he won’t be looking over his shoulder.”
“But I thought you said you could track him from Elgin’s computer,” Sheila commented nervously.
“I said we could try. A lot’s going to depend on how computer savvy this guy is. Picking up a Trojan Horse from the net doesn’t take a lot of technical genius. Hiding your tracks in cyberspace does.”
“You still didn’t tell me what kind of ‘adjustments’ you meant.”
“First of all, you’re going off-line. Completely. Billy’s re-routing your computer to our main monitoring system now. “
“What?” Elgin shrieked, practically dumping her coffee in her lap. “I won’t have that! I mean it. The Internet is one of my most valuable marketing tools and e-mail is a vital link to my readership. I won’t do it. Absolutely not.”
“You don’t have any choice,” he responded coldly. “We’ve got to close the door on him and bolt it from the inside. Until we catch this guy, anyone who tries to contact you or log onto the system is going to get an error message telling them the system’s down. In reality, they’ll be coming right into our central monitoring system where they’ll be identified and if necessary, traced.”
“Now see here…” Elgin began but Harm shook his head.
“And you’ll have to change your schedule. Stop doing the same thing at the same time on the same days. Change the stores and the restaurants you frequent. Be more careful about who knows where you’re going to be and what you’re going to be doing. Except, of course, for Harm’s Way. We’ll have to have a daily schedule of your comings and goings. We’ll have people providing you security, but we’ll also want to be able to check out places where you’re going to be before you get there as well.”
“Well I won’t do it,” Elgin shot back, her voice tense and raised with anger. “I will not be bullied or intimidated by some stalker who may be more imaginary than anything else and I will most certainly not be bullied by you.”
“The stalker isn’t imaginary,” he replied, his own voice requiring an effort to keep under control, “he’s very real and he’s here, whether you like it or not. We were hired to find this guy, stop him and protect you and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“You’re fired, Mr. Harm. You and your geeky little technocrat and your rent-a-cops who’ve been following me are officially off the case. I want you out of my computer, my home and my life. Now.”
He glanced at Sheila and back to Elgin. “You’re not my client, Miss Collier, Miss Forbes is. I’m not fired until she says I am.”
“Well then tell him to go away, Sheila.”
“No Elgin, I won’t,” she replied quietly.
Elgin’s jaw dropped in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘you won’t?’” She could barely get the words out.
“Because he’s right and you’re just being pigheaded and stubborn. There is a stalker out there El, and God only knows what he’s got on his warped mind. You saw where he’s broken into you computer. He knows where you live, where you shop, where you get your hair done. He could be anywhere, anyone. Until this is over, you do what Mr. Harm tells you to.”
“I won’t,” Elgin told her defiantly.
“Oh yes you will.”
“And who’s going to make me?”
“If it comes to it, I will.”
“And how the hell do you propose to do that?” Elgin asked coldly.
“Well, as your oldest and dearest friend, I’d hoped to try and reason some sense into that thick Irish skull of yours. Since that didn’t work, I’ll put on my boss’s hat instead.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that if you’ll check the fine print in your contract, you’ll find there’s a clause that prohibits you from doing anything that would be harmful or detrimental to your health, well-being and your capacity to produce books for Fantasy Publishing. That includes such things as swimming nude with piranhas, drinking battery acid or playing chicken with a stalker.”
“Sheila…”
“Any of which constitutes a material breach of your contract. If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll have you tied up in court so long, your grandchildren will be testifying. And I’ll make sure that not only do you not publish again with Fantasy, but that no one else will touch you with a ten-foot lawyer either.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You, of all people, El, should know I don’t kid about money and you’re screwing with my biggest business asset.”
“But…”
“No ‘buts’ Ellie.”
“Miss Collier,” Harm broke in again, “my motto is, when you’re in harm’s way, you do it Harm’s Way.
“Did you hear that?” Elgin shrieked in Sheila’s face. “The nerve of that…that…”
Sheila sipped her coffee in patient silence. As soon as the door had swung shut behind Harm and the Boy Genius, Elgin had gone into her seething rant. From long experience, she knew the futility of talk until her friend had exhausted her rage.
“When you’re in harm’s way, you do it Harm’s Way,” she mocked acidly. “My God, he made it sound like one of the commandments.”
“He was just voicing a sentiment,” Sheila offered.
“His sentiment,” Elgin shot back. “He sounded as if he expected me to sit down then and there and cross stitch him a sampler of the damn thing! Well you know what? Fuck Mr. C. A. Harm and his pithy little saying and his pissy little geek toad and the horse he rode in on!” For emphasis, a small sofa pillow sailed past Sheila’s head.
“Are you through?”
“No, God damn it! Not by a long shot! If that arrogant, know-it-all gorilla thinks for an instant that I’m going to turn my life inside out for him, not only is he stupider than he looks…a neat trick in itself…but he’s going to be bitterly disappointed in the bargain! I will go where I choose, when I choose. I will not allow some phantom to hang over my life like a childish Boogey Man and I will most definitely not roll over and play dead for some chest thumping, self-delusional alpha male, who by the way should check his calendar to see what millennium this is.”
“You might as well stop this tantrum,” Sheila told her quietly. “I meant what I said about your contract. And Mr. Harm isn’t suggesting you crawl under your bed and hide. He only said you have to change your schedule a little and let them know where you’re going to be.
“This stalker is absolutely real. You saw the whatchamacallit on your e-mail. He knows your whole life. There’s every reason to think he’s been close enough to grab your ass and he may very well have killed a total stranger for you. God only knows what he might be capable of.”
“Sheila…”
“No, I mean it.” She shook her head firmly, put down her cup and came to where her friend stood.
“If nothing else, think about me,” she cajoled. “How the hell do you think I’d feel if you disappeared and they found your body raped and mutilated? Or it was never found at all? How do you think I’d live with myself if I knew that I could have done something and didn’t because of your mule-headed, obstinate Irish temper?”
Elgin’s faced screwed into a defiant pout.
“You’d collect that fat insurance policy you have on me, go to the south of France with some good looking nineteen-year old stud for a month and then come back and re-issue all my books in special limited-edition collectable volumes for which you’d charge twice the price and for which you wouldn’t have to fork out any royalties.”
“Ooooh,” Sheila pretended to agree. “Special limited-edition collectable volumes. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe even hardback if I could get a good deal on the printing.”
“You would, too,” Elgin commented sourly.
“Damn straight.” She grinned wickedly. “God knows just because you’d be dead doesn’t mean I should suffer too.”
“If I did die, I’d come back and haunt you except you’d probably want me to keep ‘ghost writing’ Gillian Shelby.”
Knowing that the storm had passed, Sheila put her arms around her friend and they hugged.
“It’s only for ten more days. I hired Harm’s Way for two weeks and with the tap on your computer, I’m sure they’ll be able to catch this nut in that time. Probably sooner and then we can all get back normal. Surely you can put up with Campbell Harm that long.”
“I suppose,” Elgin conceded grudgingly. “But I’m serious too. In ten more days, he’s outta here. By then, I should be pretty much finished with the re-writes and then three months in the country. Promise?”
“Pinky swear.”
“You’re sure?”
Billy nodded glumly. “I triple checked.”
Harm exhaled a deep, frustrated sigh and threw the stapled pages on his desk. The young man standing in front of his desk shifted his weight nervously.
“And you’re positive this is our boy?”
“Yes sir,” he replied apologetically. “He’s the only one of Ms. Collier’s computer ‘visitors’ who can’t be accounted for legitimately. He’s tried to log on at various times, mostly between two and five a.m. and has been very persistent in his attempts.”
“You think he knows we’re on to him?”
“Hard to say, sir,” he shrugged slightly, “but I’d guess not, just from the fact that he kept trying. Building a ‘blind’ isn’t all that hard. Wouldn’t take a whole lot of smarts or technology. And if I was stalking someone from cyberspace, I sure as heck’d have someplace to hide, just in case.”
“All right, Billy. Thanks for the report. As always, it’s complete and thorough.”
“I just wish I could have been more help.”
“I know you did everything humanly possibly. Did you give your time sheet for this project to Jessica?”
The young man nodded.
“Okay then. You better get on back to the monitoring station. I know this isn’t your only case.”
Alone again, Harm reread the report carefully, frowning as he did so. At last, he set the papers down again and reached for his phone.
“Jessica, please get me Ms. Forbes at Fantasy Publishing. Tell her it’s important.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harm, I still don’t think I understand.” Elgin looked at him; those huge dark eyes filled with questions and he thought, a tinge of alarm.
“I know it’s a little complicated,” he explained patiently, “but the gist is that everyone who tried to log on to your computer, either by e-mail or alternate method, has been identified and tracked. All of them could be accounted for as friends, fans, business, etc. Except one. We believe he’s the stalker. He tried several methods of entry and his times were always between midnight and five a.m.”
“But if you know all this, why weren’t you able to locate him?”
“Because he has what is known as a ‘blind.’ You know, the little camouflage huts that duck hunters use so the ducks won’t see them. He managed to route through another ISP address.”
“Well,” Elgin pressed nervously, “how do you know it’s a ‘blind?’ Maybe it really is his address. Did you check?”
“Yes, Ms. Collier,” Harm replied, slightly annoyed that she thought him stupid or incompetent, “we checked. The ISP account belongs to a convent of nuns in Belgium. They make pottery and candy and have recently moved to the Internet to increase their sales. Apparently our stalker hacked into their system so that he could hide his own address.”
“But can’t you tap into their computer?”
“He’s gone. More than likely, he’s got several of these ‘blinds’ scattered around and probably knows how to build more.”
“So…so he knows you’re on to him?” The tiniest tremor appeared at the edge of her voice.
“We just don’t know. Building a ‘blind’ or even several isn’t that hard. Ours is the most sophisticated, cutting-edge technology available. It’s designed to track without being tracked. I find it difficult to believe that our stalker has either the technology or the expertise to evade it.”
“But he did evade it.”
“He didn’t evade it, Ms. Collier.” She made him hot under the collar again.
“He just covered his tracks. My personal opinion is that he’s either lost interest in the game or been scared off. At any rate, Harm’s Way will continue to monitor the situation and provide personal security for the rest of the agreed upon period. At the end of that time, I’d say that you can call it a day and consider the problem solved.”
Unexpectedly, he smiled. A warm, genuine, very nice smile. Elgin felt her anxiety disappear like vanilla ice cream under a summer sun.
“I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
Relieved both at the thought that the stalker had gone and that she would soon have her life back, Elgin smiled too. At least, that’s what she told herself, hastily trying to squash the unexpected tingle his smile produced.
“Well that’s good,” she murmured. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“I really think I ought to call Mr. Harm,” he repeated anxiously.
“Good heavens, why?” Elgin badgered. “I’ve rearranged my whole life for this foolishness. This is your last day. Tomorrow I have to go back to living the way I did before I ever knew Harm’s Way existed. What difference does it make if I get started a little early?”
“Ms. Collier, I understand that you’re anxious to get back to normal after all that’s happened. But I’m assigned to protect you until my shift ends. And Mr. Harm gave very specific instructions about you not keeping this beauty appointment. At least not today.”
Elgin glared at him. Pete Fowler had been her day escort for the entire two weeks that she’d been under Harm’s Way’s vigilant eye. Nice enough, medium height, medium build, short brown hair, kind brown eyes. Until they’d been formally introduced, she hadn’t even noticed him trailing her.
“Look Pete,” she declared, “I’m going to keep my hair appointment. I have been going to this woman for longer than I care to admit and long after you are gone and Harm’s Way is mercifully forgotten, I will still be going there. If there’s a stalker lurking out there somewhere, he’ll know where to find me next Wednesday at eleven-thirty a.m. so what’s the difference?”
“The difference is, next Wednesday at eleven-thirty a.m., I won’t be responsible for you.”
“Good bye Pete,” she grumbled and pushed past him and started for the cab waiting at the curb. In two long strides he’d caught up with her.
“All right, Ms. Collier,” he grinned, “have it your way. But I still have to call and let Mr. Harm know.”
“Anything you want, Pete, only let’s get going while I still have a hair appointment to keep.”
The Beauty Spot, a small salon in the less impressive side of town, wedged itself between a neighborhood grocery and a dry cleaning shop. Wanda Jacobs, the shop’s owner and principle employee, was a large, motherly woman with perfectly coifed silver hair and friendly blue eyes that seemed to disappear in the laugh lines around her eyes.
She and Elgin had met many years before when the recently widowed Wanda had agreed to do the struggling author’s hair in return for newspaper ads and flyers. Copies of all of them hung on the shop’s walls along with autographed covers of all of Gillian Shelby’s books. Wanda never missed an opportunity to let people know that she’d “discovered” Gillian Shelby.
“You don’t actually have to go in,” Elgin teased, seeing the look of discomfort on Fowler’s face. “There’s a wonderful little coffee shop down on the corner. Breakfast all day long. The homemade waffles with blueberry syrup are to die for. Read the paper and have a second cup of coffee and I should be finished about one.”
“Thanks,” he grinned, obviously relieved that he wouldn’t have to venture into no-man’s land. “I’ll be back at one.”
Inside, Wanda listened on the telephone at the front counter. Seeing Elgin, she immediately smiled, nodded and pointed to an empty chair as she listened intently.
“Uh-uh, Hon,” she replied into the receiver. “Just can’t squeeze you in Friday. Prom season.”
She listened a few moments longer, running her finger down the pages. “Not a chance. I’m booked solid. Why don’t you try Missy’s…”
More silence as the other party spoke. Wanda turned toward Elgin and shrugged helplessly.
“Look,” she cut in firmly, “I can’t do it. You know I would if I could, but I just don’t have any time. You call over to Missy’s and talk to Joan. Tell her I sent you and that it’s an emergency. She’ll do right by you and Olivia. And I promise I’ll call you first thing if I get a cancellation. I’ve got to go now. I’ve got a client under the dryer who’s going to cook if I don’t get her out. Yes. I promise. Okay. Good-bye.”
Wanda put down the phone and sighed as she reached the back of Elgin’s chair.
“Connie Armstrong,” she explained, taking a large pink cape and settling it over Elgin. “Daughter Olivia’s got a date for the prom Saturday night and her mother’s desperate for me to ‘give ‘er the works.’” A hearty chuckle rumbled through her big body. “Child doesn’t need a beautician, she needs a magician.
“Me? I’m tickled pink for her although I can’t imagine any boy being that hard up for a date.
“Don’t get me wrong. She’s sweet as homemade apple pie and bless her heart, with parents who look like Ed and Connie, the girl can’t help being homely as a mud fence. But Lord, she doesn’t have to make things worse by eating like food’s going out of style. Poor thing looks like a hippopotamus after a three-day bender.”
“You’re terrible,” Elgin laughed.
“No, just honest. I guess, though, sometimes it’s a gnat’s whisker between the two. By the way, speaking of truth as we were, who’s that good-looking man I saw you getting out of the cab with? Any good gossip I can spread?”
“Put away your trowel, Wanda dear. Strictly business.”
“That’s how Pat and I started out,” Wanda nodded knowingly. “He delivered genuine Egyptian Henna to that fancy salon I worked at right out of school. We ended up with five kids and twenty-six too short years.”
“Well, for one thing, he’s already got a wife and kids so could we please change the subject?”
“Oh, all right,” Wanda agreed reaching for a comb and her spritz bottle. “How’s the new book coming? Lots of hot sex I hope.”
At one straight up, Pete appeared on the sidewalk outside The Beauty Spot. He seemed relieved once more after Elgin had paid the bill and came out a moment later.
“I don’t see much of a difference,” he remarked, examining her hair from several angles.
“Good. You’re not supposed to. That’s the whole point of spending all this money to have it done once a week. People are supposed to think I’m naturally gorgeous.” Elgin put a hand to head and pretended to strike a pose.
“I can definitely vouch for the gorgeous part. Inside and out.”
Elgin blushed bright red and glanced down at her feet. She and Pete had spent the last ten days together and they’d grown very friendly, discovering a mutual love of horse racing and Italian food.
“Well, thank you,” she smiled shyly. “It’s nice of you to say, even it isn’t true. But don’t let your boss catch you saying something like that or he may fire you for poor eyesight.”
Pete grinned. “Okay, it’ll be just our secret. You want me to hail a cab?”
“No, I called from the salon. I told the dispatcher we’d meet the cab across the street. That way, he won’t have to go ‘round the block to get back to Grant.”
“Speaking of which, that must be him now.” He nodded to his left and Elgin turned to look. A cab pulled around a corner two blocks up.
“We better get over there.”
Gently, he took her elbow and they stepped off the curb.
They’d just reached the yellow line in the middle of the asphalt when she heard it.
The roar of a powerful engine being gunned caught their attention. Following the sound, she turned her head to the right in time to see a huge dark blur careen out of the alley just on the other side of the salon.
Later, in her nightmares, Elgin saw headlights glowing like pale eyes and a wide evil chrome smirk of bumper. But in that split second as it happened, sound and sensation collided and ran together, the pieces knotted in a smashed jumble.
Pete’s frantic cry, “Look out!” Something pushing fiercely in her back and the asphalt biting her hands and knees and head as she fell. A loud “thump” and wind rushing past her. A door slamming and a woman screaming.
Somewhere, the engine faded and with it, the warm spring sunshine, disappearing above her as she tumbled down a dark well. For a moment, her mind tried to rouse her and slow her descent but her body rebelled, suddenly too tired to resist the onrushing night. Closing her eyes and feeling her muscles go limp, Elgin gave up the struggle and surrendered to the blackness.