Sole Witness (21 page)

Let’s see her dodge a Camry.

*          *          *

The window-lined walls of the
beach house closed in around Lori. The birds-eye view of the swaying palm trees
constricted her lungs until she could hardly breathe. She had to get out of
there. Break free of this suffocating box on stilts.

Davis would be angry, of course,
and she didn’t want to anger Davis.

But then again, she’d left
yesterday, hadn’t she? Nothing bad had come of it. No bullets, no sirens, no
killer.

She could leave again and nothing
would happen. It’s not like she’d be gone long. Just a little jog, that’s all
she needed. A little run, with solid ground beneath her feet.

Or sand. She’d settle for sand in
a second. Anything but this place.

Lori turned off the TV and stood.
A book wouldn’t be amiss, either. She wasn’t into cop fiction, and daytime talk
shows destroyed her brain cells by the second.

There was that convenience store
down the street, right? A mile and a half round trip, max. She’d be back in no
time. Quicker than yesterday, even, since she wouldn’t be waiting around for a
sandwich.

Although, a sandwich wouldn’t be
a bad idea either.

Next thing Lori knew, she was out
the door, down the steps, and running from the house as though the devil
himself were on her heels. She reached the water’s edge and stopped, glancing
behind her.

A grapefruit tree stood in
Davis’s backyard. Lori hated grapefruit.

No wonder she had to get out of
there. The feng shui was all wrong in that place.

Well, that and the whole house-on-stilts
thing. Plus, she’d long since stopped feeling hidden and begun to feel
forgotten. Lost. Frustrated. Angry.

Keeping the house to her left and
the Gulf to her right, Lori sprinted through the sand. The hot sun drifted
above her, casting her shadow below her feet.

Seagulls clamored to the sky,
eager to get out of her way as she raced along the sand.

The water looked calm. Peaceful.

The sparsely planted houses just
looked desolate. Lonely. A solitary passenger in a small red car cruised the
center of the street, riding the brakes. No doubt the driver was lost. Why
anyone would want to live like this was beyond her.

A few minutes later, Lori glanced
at the road again, surprised to see the red sedan keeping pace with her.
Probably hoping she’d be able to offer help with directions. Too bad the only
landmarks Lori knew around here were the café and the convenience store.

Plus, she couldn’t take the
chance of the driver recognizing her and blabbing her location all over the
news.

Davis would kill her.

Facing forward as if she hadn’t
noticed the car, Lori concentrated on her legs and her breathing, and making
long, even strides.

Running exercised her muscles.
Helped work off stress. She had plenty of stress.

When she got to the café, she
realized she hadn’t eaten in hours. Lori slipped inside and ordered lunch.
Might as well eat in, rather than take out. She hadn’t made it to the
convenience store yet and didn’t want her food to get cold.

Lori paid with cash, making sure
she tipped well. No other customers had appeared while she ate. Hard to believe
that these little beachside venues made any money at all.

When she stepped out of the café,
the red car had gone. Driver either gave up or figured out where he was going,
she guessed. Lori felt bad that she hadn’t stopped to help, but she didn’t want
to take too many chances.

She pushed open the door to the
convenience store and a cluster of bells jangled overhead.

The interior was small and the
aisles tight, but at least it wasn’t on stilts.

Thank heaven for small favors.

Medicines and toiletries crammed
the first aisle. Snacks and drinks overflowed the second. Lori sighed. Three
weeks until Easter and they were out of Cadbury eggs? Crime against nature. The
books were at the back of the store on a small round rack.

Bestsellers, yes. Recent, no.

She found one she hadn’t yet read
and knocked the dust off the top. At least this would give her something more
constructive to do this afternoon.

When Lori headed to the counter
to pay, the headline on a black and white newspaper caught her eye. Alien
Spacecraft Terrorizes Town, Impregnating Women. And below, in a separate
column: Giant Yeti Returns To Vegas.

The Weekly World News had to be
the most ridiculous publication on the market. Back in high school, Davis had
loved it. Especially the Bigfoot articles.

Why, she had no idea.

On impulse, she added the
newspaper to her purchase. He might be angry she left the house, but he’d never
be able to resist an article about a Sasquatch playing slots.

If the clerk recognized her, he
made no mention. He also declined to comment on her choice of reading material,
and Lori was back outside in record time.

She’d just stepped off the
sidewalk to cross the street when a car sped by from out of nowhere, nearly
clipping her.

Jerk. Lori turned to flip the
bird. He could have killed her!

Her hand faltered before the
fingers got into position. Another red car.

Or was it the same one? What the
hell?

Wasting no more time, Lori
sprinted across the street to the beach. Cars weren’t allowed on the sand at
this section of the Gulf Coast, so she should be safe from idiot drivers.
Besides, the car was long gone by now.

She’d barely jogged for thirty
seconds before the squeal of a U-turn pierced the air and the little red car
came back into view.

Lori snapped her head forward and
squinted for Davis’s beach house. How far away was it? She couldn’t tell from
here. All the houses on stilts looked the same from underneath.

The red car kept pace with her,
weaving every now and then as if the driver seriously considered darting
between the houses, chasing her on the beach, and slamming her body into the
water.

For once, Lori felt her
overactive imagination wasn’t too far off.

Of all the things to be right
about. Great.

Lori sucked in a deep breath, bent her knees, leaned
forward… and ran.

A peal of laughter ripped through the Camry’s
interior as Amber matched her speed to that of the scaredy-cat model.

Oh, sure, at first she’d tried to play like she
hadn’t seen Amber following her. And Amber’d very nearly had her splattered on
the windshield like a massive lovebug when she’d caught her outside that dumpy
convenience store.

None of that compared to the now priceless look on
Little Fashionista’s face.

If Amber were one for scrapbooks, she’d totally save
this Kodak moment for the grandkids.

Lori Summers ran along the beach as if she could
somehow outrun a
car
, for Christ’s sake. What an idiot.

If Amber wanted to, she could curb this baby right
onto the sand and mow her straight into the water. Clearly, Summers considered
that a very real possibility.

But how stupid would that be?

Sure, splatting Summers into the Gulf of Mexico
would release endorphins at an orgasmic level. But then what would Amber do
with a car full of mud, sinking slowly into the sand as the interior filled
with water?

Amber was not stupid. She was a huntress.

Air conditioner blasting, she kept her eye on her
target. Easy enough to do with all the houses up on freaking stilts.

What a moronic place to hide out.

What an even stupider place to go for an afternoon
run.

Braking, Amber squinted at Lori. Apparently the
little model just remembered about the fabulous invention known as the cell
phone and was frantically fumbling at her side.

Crap. She couldn’t stay long enough to kill her if
that retarded fashion slave was already calling the cops.

Her target sagged against the wooden beam of one
little beach house, dropping her bags to the sand at her feet. She shot a
terrified look at the attached wooden stairs, and then turned her panicked
stare back to Amber.

What was up those stairs, the boogie monster? Did
she have some other killer waiting on her, too?

All Amber wanted was to kill her first. She hadn’t
known there’d be a waiting list.

Summers finally got her phone free from her
waistband. She flipped it open and started dialing madly, keeping her desperate
gaze fixed on Amber’s car.

Moron. She wasn’t going to drive up after her.

Amber shrugged and twiddled her fingers in a little
toodle-oo as she drove off.

No sense sticking around for the cops. They could be
just around the corner for all she knew. Little Miss Afternoon Jog wasn’t going
anywhere anytime soon. Amber’d just come back in the morning and finish her off
then.

What better way to start the day?

*          *          *

Davis took his first bite of lunch—soggy ham
sandwich from the vending machine down the hall—when the phone rang. Not the
direct line to his desk. His cell phone. And according to the familiar number
on the screen, he was calling himself.

Mouth valiantly chewing the tasteless white bread
concoction, Davis answered.

“Hello?”

The panic in her voice slammed his heart into his
ribs. “I need you.”

He’d known it was Lori before he’d answered, but he
wasn’t sure which sliced into his guts worse: the shakiness in her voice or the
three little words she spoke.

“Where are you?” he asked, then winced. Stupid
question. Obviously she was at home.

Her erratic breathing seemed overloud. “Someone is
after me.”

“I know.” Davis frowned. “We’re working as fast as
we can.”

“No, I mean here. Now. Well, not exactly here and
not just now—more like a minute ago. Half a minute.”

“What? In my house?” He could’ve kicked himself when
a dozen pairs of curious eyes glanced up from their desks.

“Not inside. Outside. Can you just come over?”

She was making no sense. Davis had no clue what she
was talking about, but if she needed him home then home he’d be.

“My place is outside of Isla Concha. Not part of
this jurisdiction. But I know the guys out there. Let me give them a call.
There’ll be a hundred squad cars out there before you can say–”

“No.”

“No?” What the hell did ‘no’ mean? “Are you safe?”

Her soft voice breathed into his ear. “I think so.
Yeah.”

“That’s all I need to hear. Don’t move. I’m on my
way.”

Davis stood and slid an arm across his desk, swiping
his cellophaned lunch into the trashcan. Carver rose, concern lining her forehead,
but he waved her back into her seat.

“Stay. I’ll be right back. Or not.” When her brows
raised, he added, “I’ll call if I need you, don’t worry.”

Dodging civilians, cops and forensic techs, Davis
sprinted through the station and burst outside.

What could have happened to rattle Lori like that?

Heart twitching an erratic beat, Davis jumped in his
car and pealed out onto the road, barreling home with his thoughts racing as
fast as the engine.

Minutes stretched like months as the miles flew
past. By the time he leaped up the stairs, his suit clung to him, soaked with
sweat. He threw open the door and strode through the house calling her name.

Lori stood in the hallway, shrouded in a forest
green terrycloth towel.

Dark blonde hair clung to her scalp, poking up in
random tufts. Her arms wrapped around her middle, keeping the towel flush
against her damp, just-bathed body.

While he’d been in agony, fearing the worst, she’d
been home safe and sound, enjoying a late afternoon bubble bath?

“What’s going on?” he demanded, his voice harsher
than intended.

She flinched.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

Davis crossed his arms. “Well, I’m here now. There
better be a damn good reason for it.”

“Someone was following me. I think. I couldn’t see
them clearly. They’re gone now.”

“Lori, this house is on stilts. The door was locked
and deadbolted when I left. It’s not like someone could climb in through an
open window.”

She shook her head, sending water droplets flying.
“Not in here. Out there.”

“How could someone follow you out there? It’s not
like you were running around outside like an idiot.”

Lori’s gaze unfocused and a blush colored her
cheeks.

“You’re kidding.”

He closed the distance between them in two strides.
His hands tightened around her slender shoulders and he gave her an angry
shake. She
left
?