My stomach dropped as a sudden thought popped into my mind. What if the girl from Delphic and Victoria's Secret was Patch's ex? What if she saw me talking to Patch at the arcade and- mistakenly-assumed there was a lot more to our relationship? If she was still attracted to Patch, it made sense that she might be jealous enough to follow me around. A few puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place…
And then Patch said, 'But she's not around.'
'What do you mean she's not around?'
'She's gone. She's never coming back.'
'You mean… she's dead?' I asked.
Patch didn't deny it.
My stomach suddenly felt heavy and twisted. I hadn't expected this. Patch had a girlfriend, and now she was dead.
The door to the ladies' room rattled as someone tried to enter. I'd forgotten I'd locked it. Which made me wonder how Patch got in. Either he had a key, or there was another explanation. An explanation I probably didn't want to think about, such as gliding under the door like air. Like smoke.
'I need to get back to work,' Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. 'Killer skirt. Deadly legs.'
Before I'd formed a single coherent thought, he was through the door.
The older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. 'Honey,' she told me, 'he looks slipper) as soap.'
'Good description,' I mumbled.
She fluffed her short, corkscrew gray hair. 'A girl could lather up in soap like that.'
After I changed back into my clothes, I returned to the booth and slid in beside Vee. Elliot checked his watch and lifted his eyebrows at me.
'Sony1 was gone so long,' I said. 'Did I miss anything?'
'Nope,' said Vee. 'Same old, same old.' She bumped my knee, and the question was implied. Well?
Before I could return the bump, Elliot said, 'You missed the waitress. I ordered you a red burrito.' A creepy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
I saw my chance.
'Actually, I'm not sure I'm up to eating.' I managed a nauseated face that wasn't altogether contrived. 'I think I caught what Jules has.'
'Oh, man,' Vee said. 'Are you okay?'
I shook my head.
'I'll hunt down our waitress and get her to box the food,' Vee suggested, digging in her purse for keys.
'What about me?' said Elliot, sounding only half joking.
'Rain check?' Vee said.
Bingo, I thought.
Chapter 14
I got back to the farmhouse shortly before eight. I turned my key in the lock, grabbed the doorknob, and shoved my hip against the door. I'd called my mom a few hours before dinner; she was at the office, tying up a few loose ends, not sure when she'd be home, and I expected to find the house quiet, dark, and cold.
On the third shove, the door gave way, and I hurled my handbag into the darkness, then wrestled with the key still jammed in the lock. Ever since the night Patch came over, the lock had developed a greedy disposition. I wondered if Dorothea had noticed it earlier in the day.
'Give-me-the-dumb-key,' I said, jiggling it free.
The grandfather clock in the hall ticked on the hour, and eight loud dongs reverberated through the silence. I was walking into the living room to start a fire in the wood-burning stove when there was the rustle of fabric and a low creak from across the room.
I screamed.
'Nora!' my mom said, throwing off a blanket and scrambling into a sitting position on the sofa. 'What in the world's the matter?'
I had one hand splayed across my heart and the other flattened against the wall, supporting me. 'You scared me!'
'I fell asleep. If I'd heard you come in, I would have said something.' She pushed her hair off her face and blinked owlishly. 'What time is it?'
I collapsed into the nearest armchair and tried to recover my normal heart rate. My imagination had conjured up a pair of ruthless eyes behind a ski mask. Now that I was positive he wasn't a figment of my imagination, I had an overwhelming desire to tell my mom everything, from the way he'd jumped on the Neon to his role as Vee's attacker. He was stalking me, and he was violent. We'd get new locks on the doors. And it seemed logical that the police would get involved. I'd feel much safer at night with an officer parked on the curb.
'I was going to wait to bring this up,' my mom said, interrupting my thought process, 'but Fm not sure the perfect moment is ever going to present itself.'
I frowned. 'What's going on?'
She gave a long, troubled sigh. 'I'm thinking about putting the farmhouse up for sale.'
'Why?'
'We've been struggling for a year, and I'm not pulling in as much as I'd hoped. I've considered taking a second job, but honestly I'm not sure there are enough hours in the day.' She laughed without any trace of humor. 'Dorothea's wages are modest, but it's extra money we don't have. The only other thing I can think of is moving into a smaller house. Or an apartment.'
'But this is our house.' All my memories were here. The memory of my dad was here. I couldn't believe she didn't feel the same way. I would do whatever it took to stay.
'I'll give it three more months,' she said. 'But I don't want to get your hopes up.'
Right then I knew I couldn't tell my mom about the guy in the ski mask. She'd quit work tomorrow. She'd get a local job, and there'd be absolutely no choice but to sell the farmhouse.
'Let's talk about something brighter,' Mom said, pushing her mouth into a smile. 'How was dinner?'
'Fine,' I said morosely.
'And Vee? How's she recovering?'
'She can go back to school tomorrow.'
Mom smiled wryly. 'It's a good thing she broke her left arm. Otherwise she wouldn't be able to take notes in class, and I can only imagine how disappointing that would have been for her.'
'Ha, ha,' I said. 'I'm going to make hot chocolate.' I stood and pointed over my shoulder into the kitchen. 'Want some?'
'That actually sounds perfect. I'll start the fire.'
After a quick trip to the kitchen to round up mugs, sugar, and the cocoa canister, I came back to find that Mom had a kettle of water on the wood-burning stove. I perched myself on the arm of the sofa and handed her a mug.
'How did you know you were in love with Dad?' I asked, striving to sound casual. There was always the chance that discussing Dad would bring on a tear fest, something I hoped to avoid.
Mom settled into the sofa and propped her feet up on the coffee table. 'I didn't. Not until we'd been married about a year.'
It wasn't the answered I'd expected. 'Then… why did you marry him?'
'Because I thought I was in love. And when you think you're in love, you're willing to stick it out and make it work until it is love.'
'Were you scared?'
'To marry him?' She laughed. 'That was the exciting part. Shopping for a gown, reserving the chapel, wearing my diamond solitaire.'
