With an Extreme Burning

get off work?”

“I don't think so. Not tonight.”

“Well, call me if you change your mind. And take it easy, okay? Driving, I mean. Bobby Harrell dying is, like, awful enough. I don't want to lose my best friend, too.”

If you lose me, Amy thought, it won't be in a car accident. She waved, drove away slowly. Still paying attention to her driving, but she couldn't keep the thoughts from running around again inside her head.

For the hundredth time: He can't be the one.

Not him.

It was so hard to imagine any of Mom's male friends, anybody they knew, as a stalker. The whole thing was just totally nuts. But Mom believed it, and after all that had happened, she believed it, too. Crazy things went down all the time. People killed people just to steal their car, or for no reason at all. It could happen to them the same as anybody else. It was happening to them.

“Be very careful, Amy,” Mom had warned her. “Promise me that. Until we know who's doing this and why, don't trust anybody. No matter how well you think you know him.”

Not even him. Especially not him, because what if he weren't really attracted to her the way she was to him? What if it were all a trick to win her confidence, get her alone somewhere so he could kill her like he'd killed three people already?

It wasn't. But it could be.

Cool it for now, then. What choice did she have? She didn't want to die. Cool it until they found out who the stalker really was, and then—

Then.

She was downtown now. She turned into Water Street, the narrow alley that bisected the block behind Hallam's Bookshop. There was a little parking area back there for employees; she parked in the space closest to Hallam's back entrance, locked the car, and hurried inside even though there was nobody around in the alley.

Mr. Hallam had her work the front counter until four o'clock. Then UPS brought in several boxes of books, both new and used, and he asked her if she'd mind unpacking them, checking the contents against the packing slips, and shelving the books. She did mind; that was the part of working in a bookstore she disliked, being a box person and stock clerk. But Mr. Hallam didn't like you to argue with him, so she said okay.

She did the used books first. There weren't many of those and they were mostly nonfiction trade paperbacks from a bookseller in the Midwest that Mr. Hallam traded with from time to time. There was a big box from Sunset —new gardening and home improvement books. Easy. She separated them by subject, checked the packing slip, then lifted an armload of titles to take out front.

When she turned around, he was standing there in the stockroom doorway, smiling at her.

Seeing him like that, unexpectedly, startled her; her step faltered and she almost dropped the Sunsets. He jumped forward and steadied the load, his fingers brushing her bare arm and wrist. Most of what the contact made her feel was like before, a kind of tingly excitement, but there was something else, too, this time: fear. His touch made her a little afraid.

“Let me help you with those,” he said.

“No, I can manage. You're not supposed to be back here.”

“Well, you weren't in front. I thought this was where I'd find you. Sure I can't help?”

“It's my job,” she said. She tried to smile at him, but the stretching of her mouth felt crooked and thin. “Um … excuse me, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, and stood aside.

She carried the Sunsets out to the gardening section. It was at the rear of the shop, not far from the stockroom; there was nobody else close by, just Mr. Hallam and one customer up by the register. She put the books down on the floor and began to shelve them.

He came up next to her. Not too close, but still close. She could smell his cologne, the musky heat of his body.

“I finished the Talese book,” he said.

“… What?”

“Thy Neighbor's Wife. That's why I stopped by—to tell you I finished it last night.”

“Oh.”

“Remember when I bought it? Our plans to find someplace quiet where we can talk?”

“I remember.”

“You haven't changed your mind?”

“Well …”

“It's all right if you have. I'll understand.”

Such a terrific smile, so sweet and sexy. How could there be evil behind it? “No, I haven't changed my mind,” she said without quite meeting his eyes. “It's just … you know, everything that's happened. It isn't a good time.”

His smile vanished; he nodded solemnly. “The Harrells.”

“Yeah. Bobby and his dad … I knew them all my life.”

“I know you did.”

“So I think I'd like to wait a while, okay?”

“Of course, Amy. It really was a terrible accident. It's going to take me a while to come to terms with it, too.”

“I guess everybody feels that way.”

“Those propane heaters are so dangerous,” he said. “Your dad doesn't use that kind at his cottage, does he?”

“My dad?”

“He does still have the beach cottage?”

“Oh … sure. He wanted me to spend last weekend with him and his lady up there.”

“Why didn't you?”

“I don't like her. Besides, I had to work.”

“Does he use propane appliances?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, you might want to ask him. I'm sure he's careful, even if he does; contractors don't usually make those kinds of mistakes. Still, it's always a good idea to be safety conscious.”

“Next time we talk,” Amy said. “I'll ask him then.”

“Is he still at the cottage?”

“No, they came back Monday night.”

“Going up again this coming weekend?”

“I don't think so. He never goes two weekends in a row. Megan doesn't really like it there, and she gets bitchy when he goes without her.”

“It must be a nice place,” he said. “Right near a big beach, isn't it?”

“Manchester State Beach.”

“I love the ocean, walking on the beach.”

“Me, too.”

“I had a feeling that was another thing we shared.”

She didn't say anything.

“Maybe you could show it to me sometime, Amy.”

Oh God, she thought. She still couldn't look into his eyes. A day, a night, maybe even a whole weekend together at the Dunes, just the two of them. Walk on the beach, find out all about each other, make love in front of the fire … it put an ache in her chest just thinking about it. She wanted so much to say yes, I'll show you this weekend, I'll tell Mom I'm staying at Kimberley's and then we'll drive up and I'll show you everything. Everything.

Be very careful, Amy.