Don't Look Behind You (14 page)

“We?” I couldn't believe I had heard her correctly. “Did you say
we
?”

“I've been thinking about it ever since you called,” Lorelei said. “I decided that if you came, I was going to go back with you. It wasn't an easy decision, because my roots are here—my friends, my activities, my memories of life with your grandfather. Still, such things are not as important as family. Your father's a sweet little boy who never grew up, and your mother lives in a world made of dreams and books. It's my duty to be on call when the two of them need me.”

“But you don't even know where we're living now,” I said. “It's a little hick town in Florida called Grove City. They don't have a symphony there or a country club or anything. As far as I know, they don't even have a restaurant except for a McDonald's and the Cabbage Palm Grill.”

“Then I won't bother taking my cocktail dresses,” Lorelei said. “I can't pack a suitcase one-handed, so you're going to have to help me. We need to load the car and leave here immediately. The farther we get from Norwood tonight, the better.”

There was one final question I felt compelled to ask her, despite the fact that I already knew the answer.

“Did the man who broke your arm have very dark eyes?”

“That's an understatement,” said Lorelei. “They were pools of ink.”

CHAPTER 15

We were ready to leave in less than an hour.
Lorelei directed while I did the packing. First I laid her matching luggage open on her bed; then I made a tour of the house with her, collecting items as she selected them, and carrying them back to the bedroom to load into the suitcases.

I was surprised at some of the things she chose to take with her. She stuck to her word about not taking her cocktail dresses, but she did take an ermine stole and the contents of her jewelry box, a raw silk suit, and eight pairs of high-heeled shoes. The rest of her choices were sentimental: a doll with a porcelain face that dated back to her childhood, a family Bible, and a large assortment of photographs. One of the pictures was a small framed snapshot of Lorelei and my Grandpa Clyde on their honeymoon, smiling at each other on the balcony of a French hotel. They were dressed in old-fashioned clothing, but their faces were youthful and radiant, and they looked like stars in some old black-and-white movie. Another photo we packed was of my grandfather in his later years when his hair was sparse and his face was creased with smile lines. It brought back a jolting memory of Jim Peterson, and I determinedly shoved that vision out of my consciousness.

“That should do it,” said Lorelei when the second suitcase had finally been closed and the buckles secured. “I can manage fine without the other things.”

“But what about all your beautiful clothes?!” I protested. “At least, let's try to pack the most expensive outfits.”

“There's not enough room,” Lorelei said matter-of-factly. “Remember, we're driving my car, not your mom's SUV. We need to take the boxes I've stored for your parents, and as much as I shudder to think of it, we also have to allow enough space for Porky.”

Lorelei's Porsche was parked in front of her condo. I loaded the trunk with the boxes from the hall closet and carried the suitcases out to put in the backseat. As I trudged back and forth with my cargo, Porky glued himself to my heels in quivering terror that he was going to be left behind again. On my third trip out to the car, he managed to slide in ahead of the luggage and wedge his stout body into the small slot of space between my overnight bag and one of Lorelei's suitcases. Heaving a sigh of relief, he made himself a nest there, so delighted to be coming with us that he didn't seem to care how uncomfortable he was.

After I had finished loading the car, I waited in the hallway while Lorelei made one last trip through the condo, checking windows and turning out lights. When she came back, she was carrying my tennis racket.

“Jodi brought this over after school let out,” she said. “She told me this is the racket you like to use for tournaments.”

“I can't play tournament tennis now,” I said. “Dad's afraid I might get my picture in the paper.”

“Really?” Lorelei said. “I hadn't thought about that, but I suppose it makes sense. It won't take up much space, so let's take it anyway. If nothing else, we can use it for keeping that dog in line.”

To my amazement, my grandmother didn't look back.

When we reached the car, I automatically started to get in on the passenger's side, but Lorelei surprised me by motioning me into the driver's seat.

“You do the driving,” she said. “I'll act as navigator. I'm not accustomed to one-handed driving like you kids are, and the last thing we need right now is to be in an accident.”

Three months earlier, in another lifetime, I would have been ecstatic at being allowed to drive Lorelei's Porsche. Ironically, now I didn't feel happy at all. I had returned home expecting my grandmother to put my life back in order in the bossy, capable manner I remembered from childhood. Having her hand me the keys to her cherished sports car indicated a role reversal I wasn't ready for.

When we pulled up to the gate, Pat stepped out of the guardhouse, glancing with obvious surprise at the overloaded car.

“You going on a trip, Mrs. Gilbert?” he asked Lorelei.

“A little vacation on my doctor's orders,” she told him. “New England is so beautiful in the summertime, and my granddaughter flew in today so she could drive me up there.”

“I'll keep a close watch on your place while you're gone,” Pat said. “I want you to know, we've really upped the security. I'll never forgive myself for letting that man in here. I should have suspected something and checked his credentials.”

“I'm sure you would have found them in order,” said Lorelei. “You had no way of knowing he wasn't who he said he was.”

Pat pressed the switch to lift the gate, and as we pulled away I could see him in the rearview mirror, gazing after us with a puzzled expression on his face.

“He thinks we're crazy for leaving at night,” I said.

“He probably does, but that can't be helped,” said Lorelei. “I hope, if he's asked, he'll say we were headed for New England.” She glanced at her watch. “We're doing well with our time, it's only eight thirty. We should be able to make it as far as the state border tonight. There's a road map in the glove compartment, and I'll chart a route for us. We'll have to make this trip without using my credit cards, so before we leave we'd better stop at an ATM.”

It was while I was sitting in the car, waiting for Lorelei to withdraw money from the ATM, that I was hit with a feeling that somebody was watching us. There was no particular reason for my rush of nervousness. Still, I felt an indefinable pressure between my shoulder blades as though a beam of cold, harsh light were being focused there. I turned in my seat to look back through the car's rear window, and of course I didn't see a hollow-eyed vampire. Except for our car, positioned in front of the money machine, the well-lit parking lot at Norwood Savings and Loan was empty.

I told myself I was simply being paranoid. There was no reason to think anybody would be tailing us. There hadn't been time for word to get out that I was back in town, and Lorelei had already been interrogated and discarded. Still, I was greatly relieved when my grandmother came back to the car and we were able to submerge ourselves in the Friday night traffic.

Lorelei's prediction that we would make it to North Carolina that night was wishful thinking. We had been on the road for only three hours when the stress of the day caught up with me and I had to admit I couldn't keep going much longer. In Petersburg, Virginia, we stopped at a motel with a lighted “Vacancy” sign, and I waited in the car with Porky while Lorelei went in to register. Behind the office window a sleepy-looking desk clerk blinked in surprise when Lorelei paid him in cash. He handed her two keys, and she gave one back to him and asked a question that required a one-word answer. Then she came out to tell me that we would be staying in room 129 and the motel coffee shop opened at seven in the morning.

I drove the Porsche around to the rear of the motel, where I unloaded my overnight bag and the smaller of Lorelei's two suitcases. Released from his cramped quarters in the backseat, Porky headed straight for some bushes at the corner of the building. Then he came bounding back and broke into a frenzy of high-pitched barking at a black Camaro that had pulled into a parking space several units down from ours.

“We can't have this,” Lorelei said. “Pets aren't allowed here. You're going to have to shut that dog in the car.”

“He'll be all right once we get him inside,” I promised.

“No, he won't,” Lorelei said. “I know how he behaves. Every time somebody walks past the door, he'll start barking. Put him back in the car, and move it away from here. If it's parked at the back of the lot, he won't disturb people.”

I moved the car as she asked, with an apology to Porky, who looked so dejected I could hardly stand to leave him. Then I went back to the room to rejoin Lorelei. Once we were secured for the night, exhaustion overwhelmed us, and we didn't even bother to turn on the television. Lorelei declined first use of the bathroom on the grounds that bathing with a cast on was such an ordeal that she didn't want to have to face it until morning. I was too grubby to go to bed without a shower, and the water felt so good I stayed under it for ages. When I finally returned to the bedroom, I found my grandmother, still fully dressed, stretched out asleep on one of the beds.

I stood for a moment, gazing down at her, shocked at how much she had aged since the last time I'd seen her. The bulk of the cast accentuated her fragility, and her fine-boned face, slack with sleep and without the benefit of makeup, showed lines and shadows that were usually concealed by cosmetics. Most startling of all, to me at least, was the fact that her honey blond hair was coming in at the roots a stony gray.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I removed her shoes and placed them on the floor by her unopened suitcase. The room was turning cool from the air-conditioning. I tried to pull up the covers, but she was on top of them, so I took the spread off the second bed and laid it over her, experiencing once again the uncomfortable feeling that she had become the child, and I, the adult. When I clicked off the overhead light and got into my own bed, I expected to sleep like the dead straight through until morning. Expected to, but didn't, for the moment the room went dark, I came abruptly awake, shot through with the same odd chill that I had experienced in the parking lot at the bank. It was late enough so there were no sounds from adjoining rooms to disturb me, but I had the feeling that someone was awake and aware, reaching out with his mind to touch me in the darkness.

Sliding out from under the sheet, I got out of bed and groped my way across the room to the door. When I placed my hand in its center, I knew instinctively that somebody on the far side was doing so also. Inches away, separated from me by nothing more than a wooden panel, someone was standing on the doorsill, trying to make a decision about what to do next. The drapes across the window were double thick, so he could not know for certain that our lights were off. Still, enough time had passed since we had entered the room for it to be reasonable to assume we were asleep.

I was suddenly acutely aware of how noisy our room was. Lorelei had started to snore, a sharp, rasping sound that overpowered the monotonous hum of the air conditioner, and the thud of my heartbeat crashed like a drum in my ears, so loud that I was sure it could be heard for miles.

Then I heard the most frightening sound of all, the scrape of something metallic being cautiously slipped into the keyhole. My mind flew back to the sight of Lorelei in the office, refusing the second key that was being offered her. The desk clerk had obviously realized there were two in our party. Ifsomeone had gone to him later and identified himself as Lorelei's companion, the clerk would not have thought twice about giving him the duplicate.

All this flashed through my mind in the fraction of a second it took for my hand to hit the deadbolt. The bolt slid into place with a sound like a gunshot, and without pausing, I leapt to the window and jerked aside the curtains. The security light by our door illuminated the section of pavement in front of the motel unit, but beyond that on either side lay pools of darkness.

From what I could see, the sidewalk appeared to be empty. In the room behind me, Lorelei continued to snore, undisturbed by my sudden burst of activity. Had anything actually happened, or had I imagined it? Was there a figure out there crouched in the darkness, or was I inventing terrors that had no substance? When I strained my eyes and stared hard into one of the shadow pockets, I could almost believe I could see a shift in the blackness as though there were somebody there who was changing position.

I let the curtain fall back into place, and in the deluge of heavier darkness the lighted dial on the telephone on the table between the beds glowed softly. I crossed the room to the phone and dialed the office. After a dozen rings, I hung up the receiver. I could only suppose the Vacancy sign was now off and the weary clerk had finally retired for the night. By this time I was too charged with adrenaline to sleep. I gotback into bed and lay there, rigidly alert, with my earsattuned for the slightest rustle at the door. Hours passed,while dawn crept closer and closer, and my mind churned with visions of vampire faces at the window and bloodstained talons picking surreptitiously atdoor locks. It wasn't until I heard people beginning to stir in the units on either side of our own that I was finally able to relax enough to doze off for a while.

I awoke several hours later to the sound of water running in the bathroom and opened my eyes to find that the bed across from me was empty. Dragging myself out of bed, I pulled on my clothes and opened the door of our room to a blue and gold morning and the realization that it was much later than it ought to be. Except for the black Camaro that Porky had reacted to so violently, the cars on our side of the lot had all departed, and two girls in shorts were pushing a housekeeping cart along the sidewalk and dashing into rooms with clean towels and sheets.

I shut the door behind me and walked around the side of the building to the office. When I entered, I found that the clerk from the night before had been replaced by a plump young woman with frizzy hair.

“Good morning!” she chirped in greeting. “What can I do for you?”

“My grandmother and I are in room one twenty-nine,” I told her. “We're getting ready to leave and can only find one room key. Neither of us can remember how many we had. Is there a second key we ought to be looking for?”

“I don't know,” said the girl. “I just came on duty this morning. I'll check and see if any of the duplicates are missing.”

She turned to inspect a board of pegs on the wall.

“No, as far as I can tell, they're all here.”

“Good,” I said. “Then we don't have to do a room search.” The relief in my voice was far from manufactured. After leaving the office I stopped by the car to get Porky, who immediately made a dash for his favorite bushes. Then I took him back to the room, where Lorelei, now bathed and dressed, was putting on lipstick.