The Midnight Tour

'That must be neat, having a kid. How old is he?”

'Twelve.”

At that news, he looked stunned. “You’re kidding. Twelve?”

'Sure.”

'So you were, what ... seven when you had him?”

She grinned. “A little older than that.”

'Amazing. So where’s Eric while you’re off modelling for Blazed?”

'He’s usually in school.”

'Not during summer vacation, I hope.”

'No, no. He’s home. My mother comes over to watch him when I have to go out.”

“That’s got to be a major convenience. Great for both of you. It frees you up and she gets to spend time with her grandchild.”

'It’s a pretty good deal,” Sandy said. She tried to hold on to her smile, but it fell. She turned to the shelves of groceries. She was facing a variety of mustards. She didn’t need any mustard but she stared at the jars, anyway, as if trying to decide which to buy.

Shouldn’t have said that stuff about Mom. That’s what did it. Keep her out of it. How to ruin a fine day in one easy lesson.

“Are you okay?” Terry asked.

'Yeah. It’s just ... Eric wasn’t feeling very well when I left this morning. I’m a little worried about him, that’s all. I need to finish the shopping and get home.” She grabbed a sweet-hot mustard off the shelf, bent over her cart and put it in.

“How far away do you live?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then gave him a sharp look.

'Where I live is my business.”

“I just mean, if it’s going to take you a while to get there, why don’t you phone up your mother and make sure Eric’s all right? Put your mind at ease.”

'That’s a good idea,” she said. 'You want to watch the cart? I’ll go find a phone. Be right back.” She hurried toward the front of the store. With a glance back, she saw that Terry was staying put.

Dumb. This is what comes of lying.

The public telephones were just outside the store’s main exit. She glanced back to make sure Terry still wasn’t coming, then stepped outside and pretended to call home. After talking into the mouthpiece for a couple of minutes, she hung up and went back into the store. Terry was exactly where she’d left him.

He minds well, she thought.

“Eric’s fine,” she said.

“Glad to hear it. Feel better now?”

She nodded.

“The phone’s a great invention,” Terry said.

“It can be.”

“So now you can relax and enjoy the shopping.”

“I guess so.”

“And since everything’s fine on the home front, why don’t you stop by at my place after we’re done here?”

“And why would I want to do that?”

He grinned. “It’s a nice cottage. It has a nice view of the ocean. I’m nice. You’re nice. We’ll have a nice time.”

“Unless you get me inside the nice cottage and attack me.”

He suddenly looked at Sandy as if she’d turned into an odd specimen—an amusing, somewhat appalling, compelling creature unlike anything he’d ever seen before. In a solemn voice, he said, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“How do I know?”

He kept gazing at her. “I guess you don’t.”

“For all I know, you might be a very handsome, pleasant serial killer just looking for a chance to get me alone.”

“I’m not.”

“So you say. As if you’d admit it.”

He laughed and shook his head. “If I wanted to jump you, I could’ve done it on the beach. I don’t think Blaze would’ve been much of an obstacle.”

“Somebody might’ve come along,” Sandy pointed out. “You did. At your charming little beach cottage, though, you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us. There’d be complete privacy. You’d have me at your mercy.”

“That sounds like a pretty good deal.”

“Md it might not even be your cottage. Maybe it’s just an abandoned place you happen to know about.”

“Gotcha!” Grinning, he reached into a seat pocket of his shorts and pulled out his wallet. He flapped it open in front of her. On one side was an i.d. card. On the other side was a shiny silver badge.

Chapter Thirty-two

Lunch Trouble

Just as Warren slid Dana’s tray through the window, a crowd of Japanese tourists swarmed into the eating area. All of them seemed to be talking at once. Some went straight to tables. A few scattered and started snapping photos of each other. Several wandered about taping everything in sight with their camcorders. The line behind Dana tripled in length. The line at the other window doubled. Probably half the group headed directly for the gift shop.

Looking in at Warren, Dana said, “Holy smoke.”

“We’re very big with the Japanae,” Warren explained. “We get busloads of them two or three times a week.”

“Must be great for business.”

“Can’t complain,” Warren said. “Only thing is, I was hoping I’d be able to have lunch with you.”

“Yeah, me too.” Trying not to let her disappointment show, she picked up her tray. “Well, maybe I’ll see you later.”

“How about after work?” he blurted.

“Today?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

“Sure!”

“We could go over to my place. I’ll show you the beach and stuff. And I could throw something on the barbie...”

“Hey, that sounds great.”

“Meet you at the ticket office at closing time?”

“You bet,” she said. “See you then.”

Dana found Tuck upstairs near the entrance to Lilly Thorn’s room. “That was quick,” Tuck said.

Dana nodded, grinning.

“What happened?”

“Well, a Japanese tour bus showed up and Warren couldn’t have lunch with me.”

“Ah. And that makes you giddy why?”

“He asked me over to his place! Right after work!”

“Today?”