Walking After Midnight (13 page)

They reached the intersection that led out of town. Just past the traffic light Summer saw a small white sign identifying the road: 266. She knew where she was!

„Hang a right.“

She glanced both ways down the dark, deserted strip of highway – and turned left. Just in time she remembered to depress the clutch. The Chevy lurched, but kept going.

„Hey, I said hang a right.“

„No.“

„What do you mean, no?“

„I’m going home.“

„What?“

„You heard me.“

„You’re going
home}“

„That’s right.“

„You mean to Murfreesboro?“

„That’s right.“

„You’ve gotta be out of your effing mind!“

„I’m going home.“ Summer set her jaw, clamped her hands around the wheel, and refused to look at him.

„Do you have a death wish or are you just plain stupid? Murfreesboro is where the bad guys are, remember?“

„It’s where the bad guys
were.
They’re probably spread out all over this part of Tennessee by now, looking for us. Anyway, they’re looking for the van. You said so yourself. They won’t recognize this car if they drive right past us.“

„Cut the crap, Rosencrans, and turn around.“

„It’s
McAfee,“
Summer growled. „And I’m going home! I refuse to be a part of this any longer! Whatever you’re involved in, it has nothing to do with me. I was doing my job, minding my own business, when you kidnapped me.
I
had nothing to do with murdering that man back there at Harmon Brothers. J had nothing to do with stealing the van. Or the bodies. Or this car.
I’ve
never been involved in anything illegal in my life. The police aren’t after
me.
Nobody has any reason to want to kill
me.“

„Oh, yeah?“ His voice was ominously quiet. „What about me?“

„What?“ She glanced at him then.

„Maybe I do. Maybe you’ve just given me a reason. Maybe if you don’t do what I tell you, I’ll wrap my fingers around your neck and squeeze the life out of you with my bare hands. Did you ever think of that?“

She returned her attention to the road. „If you want to, go ahead.“

There was a pause. Summer could feel his gaze on her. She had called his bluff, and he didn’t much like it. She, however, felt perfectly confident in doing so. Whatever Steve Calhoun was, whatever scandal he might have been involved in, whatever crimes he might have committed, he was not a murderer. Or at least, she amended, remembering the van’s original driver with a tiny inner shiver, he wasn’t going to murder
her.
She was as sure of that as she was of her own name.

„What makes you think I won’t do it?“

„I told you, if you want to, go ahead.“

There was another pause. „Look, Rosencrans…“

„McAfee!“

„Whatever. Maybe I won’t kill you, but whoever’s after me will. They’ll be able to find you, in Murfreesboro. Didn’t you leave your purse in that funeral home? I bet it had your address in it, didn’t it? On your driver’s license? Sure it did. They’ll find it, and they’ll come calling. Looking for me.“

„So I’ll tell them you kidnapped me, used me to get you out of town, then let me go. I’ll tell them I don’t have any idea where you are. And it’ll be the truth. I won’t know. I don’t want to know.“

„They’ll kill you anyway. Trust me, Rosencrans. They’ll come after you, and they’ll kill you.“

„Then I’ll get out of town!“ She was so agitated that she let that Rosencrans pass. „My mother’s spending a few weeks with my sister and her kids in California. I’ll go to them. I’ll catch the first plane out. I’ll go home and change and pack a few clothes, and head straight for the airport. In Knoxville, not Nashville.“

„And just how will you get to the airport? You don’t have a car anymore, remember?“

„I’ll call a cab! I’ll take a bus! I’ll
get
there, believe me!“

„You think they won’t come after you in California?“

„No! I think they won’t! I’ll go to the police, if I have to! At this point, I’m still an honest citizen! They’ll protect me. I’ll go to the police in California. That’s what I’ll do.“

„If you go back home, you may not live to get to California.“

„That’s what you say. Why should I listen to you? Nobody wants to kill me. They want to kill
you.
I don’t know why. I don’t want to know why. I even hope you get out of this with a whole skin, really I do. But I don’t want any part of it. I’m going home.“

„I don’t suppose it makes any difference to you that I can’t see to drive? How’m I supposed to manage until my vision gets back to normal?“

This blatant attempt to tap in to her store of pity didn’t work.

„I don’t want to sound callous, Frankenstein, but that’s your problem.“ Summer hesitated, her sympathy zone touched in spite of herself. „If you want, you can hide out at my house. For a day or two. Just until you can see.“

„Yeah, right. That’s the first place they’ll look.“

„Then park the car and catch a bus. Or a train. Or a plane. Do what you want. I don’t care. I’m going home.“

For a few minutes he said nothing more. Summer decided that he had given up arguing and felt herself begin to relax. She was really tired. What time was it, four, four-thirty? Her body longed for bed. Talk about a hard day!

„You keep any money at your house?“

His words, spoken out of the blue, made her start. She glanced over at him suspiciously. „Why?“

„I was thinking maybe you could float me a loan. I’ll need gas money.“

„I keep a little money in a cup in one of my kitchen cabinets. Not much, maybe thirty dollars. You can have that.“

„Thanks. I’ll pay you back.“

His unspoken rider was
If I get out of this alive.
Summer heard it as clearly as if he had said the words aloud. Guilt raised its bothersome head once more. She glanced at him, but he was staring straight ahead, out through the windshield.

„I’ve got a bank card.“

„Yeah?“

„I can withdraw up to two hundred dollars at a time. You can have that money, too.“

„Sure it wasn’t in your purse?“

„I keep my credit cards in a safer place than that.“

„Oh, yeah? Where?“

„In the freezer. Frozen into a tray of ice. That way I have to melt the ice before I use the cards. Sort of a built-in braking system, so I won’t be tempted to spend what I don’t have.“

„Smart, Rosencrans. Money’s tight, huh?“

Summer shrugged. „I get by.“

„Anything you lend me, I’ll see you get it back. I promise. Unless…“ His voice trailed off.

„Unless you’re dead, right?“ she finished dryly. He was laying it on thick, and she knew he was doing it deliberately, but still the thought of him dead was beginning to bother her. Just as he intended, she was sure.

„In the morning I’ll call my lawyer and have you written into my will.“

„Funny.“

He laughed. „Okay, so you won’t get it back if I’m dead. Otherwise, you will. Trust me.“

„I do.“ Summer was surprised to find that it was the truth. She knew that if she made him a loan, he would pay her back unless death kept him from doing so. He might be a kidnapping, car-stealing, scandal-ridden murderer, but she’d bet her life savings that he wasn’t the kind of sleazeball who welshed on his debts.

„I appreciate that.“

„You should.“

Summer turned onto Route 231, which led straight into Murfreesboro. Her house was no more than fifteen minutes away.

„You sure you don’t want me to take you to Sammy? He’s not involved in anything dishonest. I’d stake my life on it,“ she said.

- „Maybe you’d stake yours, but I’m not willing to stake mine. Thanks anyway.“

A red pickup rumbled past, headed in the opposite direction. Its headlights kept Summer from getting a glimpse of the driver – but whoever was hunting them wouldn’t be driving a pickup truck. Would they?

She was getting as paranoid as Frankenstein himself.

The car topped a rise, and the lights of Murfreesboro were suddenly before them. Not that there were many at that hour: a still-open Sav-a-Stop, a fire station, a couple of streedamps, a traffic signal. As the Chevy approached the intersection where Summer needed to turn right, a police car pulled up at the light directly opposite.

Beside her, Frankenstein tensed.
Summer tensed, too. For the first time in her life she wondered, was the officer in the car friend or foe?

She didn’t like the uncertainty.

The traffic light changed, and the police car drove past them without pausing. Summer let out her breath and turned right. Being hunted was not a pleasant experience.

She was glad it was almost over.

Her house was located in Albemarle Estates, a small residential development about a mile off the main highway. It was nothing special as houses went – a modest two-bedroom brick ranch on a street of similarly modest two-and three-bedroom brick ranches – but she had qualified for the mortgage herself, come up with the down payment herself, made the monthly payments herself. That was something she was inordinately proud of, and her pride carried over to the house. It was the best-kept one on the block, its trim a pristine cream, its concrete porch and walk bordered by meticulously neat flower beds. Built in the postwar boom of the early fifties, it had a mature willow tree in the front yard and a profusion of well-cared-for bushes nestled up against the foundation.

The door to the one-car garage was shut, just the way she had left it. The front porch light was on, just the way she had left it. The curtains were drawn, the interior dark. Everything was quiet, still, peaceful. Just the way it was supposed to be.

The Chevy’s engine suddenly sounded inordinately loud as they cruised along the sleeping street.

„Do me a favor, okay?“ Frankenstein said as she indicated with a gesture which house was hers. „Pull around the corner before you stop, and we’ll walk back. Just in case.“

The way he said „just in case“ had such a chilling effect on Summer’s nerves that she did as he asked. A house with a
FOR SALE
sign in the front yard stood empty just beyond the turn. Summer pulled into its driveway, shifted carefully into neutral – she was getting pretty good, the gears didn’t make a sound – then reached down to turn off the ignition.

Frankenstein watched her surprised fumble. „We don’t have a key, remember? Anyway, we need to leave the engine running. Just in case.“

„Would you stop saying that?“

„What?“

„ ‘Just in case.’ You’re giving me the willies. Do you really think someone’s in my house?“

Frankenstein didn’t answer for a minute. „No,“ he said finally, opening his door. „I don’t think they’re here – yet. I actually think you’ve got about twenty-four hours before they give up chasing us across the hinterlands and show up here. But I’ve been wrong before. And this isn’t the kind of mistake you get to make twice.“

So much for reassurance. Leaving the motor running, Summer slid out of the car.

13

„Why do I keep getting the feeling that I’m making a big mistake here?“

Frankenstein’s muttered question seemed addressed more to himself than to Summer. With her hurrying to keep up, he moved quickly along the sidewalk, hands jammed in the front pockets of his cutoffs, shoulders hunched in what Summer assumed was an effort to ward off the predawn chill. The moon was low in the east, casting a cold, pale light over the slumbering subdivision. A brisk breeze swirled cicada shells out of their path. Somewhere in the distance a frustrated tomcat yowled. Otherwise, the night was absolutely silent except for the whirring of the cicadas, which was so omnipresent, Summer didn’t even register it anymore.

„You won’t get very far with no money for gas.“

„That’s what I keep telling myself. Know what myself keeps answering? You won’t get very far dead, either.“ He slowed his pace with three houses still to go and stopped altogether in the lee of a large lilac at the far edge of Summer’s next-door neighbor’s yard. „Does everything look right? No lights on or off that shouldn’t be? No curtains askew? Anything at all out of the ordinary?“

„Everything looks just like I left it.“

„All right. Give me your key and wait here.“

Until that instant the appalling truth had not occurred to Summer.

„I don’t have a key,“ she said in a small voice.

He glanced at her. She suspected his expression would have been the epitome of disgust if she’d only been able to read it. As it was, his facial swelling obscured everything except the resignation in his voice.

„The key’s in your purse, right?“

„Right.“

„Why am I not surprised, I wonder. Why do you women have these love affairs with purses, anyway? What’s wrong with a plain old pocket? At least you’re not always leaving them behind.“