made her flesh crawl.
Anyway, she had too many midnight runs under her belt to start explaining things to Mom now.
Could be I’m
Nearly there now. I can see the two redwoods, their branches reaching out onto the street.
Where’s Warren?
Not here yet.
Deana felt a twinge of disappointment. It had been
And he’d be really surprised, and pleased, that she’d shown up again.
Tonight, when she saw him, she intended to invite him to dinner. She felt a squirm of excitement at the prospect of him coming to her home. Again.
This time, she wanted to show off a little.
’Cause Mom really knows how to throw a dinner party.
She’d look elegant, chatting to Warren. Charming him, but not
She knows about books, too…
Deana ran on, her mind turning to her wardrobe. Mentally going through all of her clothes, deciding what she’d wear the night of the party.
Maybe her new black dress with the low square neck? She knew it showed off her breasts and her small waist to perfection.
Well, maybe not
Black’s way too formal, anyway. Because we’ll go somewhere
Mom’d be suspicious. A new boyfriend
Allan.
Deana West, you are a
Allan dead only ten, eleven days and you’re out on some midnight tryst? Meeting up with a guy you’ve seen only three times before… And don’t forget. He already came to the house the other day…
Mom doesn’t know about that. She’d be real upset to know I’ve had Warren over and not told her about it. Not that anything
And now you’re drooling on about going out with him
The darling daughter who
What a
THIRTY-EIGHT
Deana sped up.
The wind had gotten worse. It shook the trees, whipping the leaves around in a frenzy.
Deana shivered but kept up her pace.
It was a night when almost
She ran on, her mind full of Warren. Picturing his face when she invited him to dinner. Hoping he’d say yes— after all, he
Dinner or the movies, he’d said.
Remember?
What a hoot, she’d thought at the time.
Sure. He
So here she was, running up Del Mar.
Her heart skipped a beat. She began thinking of the funeral car and how spooky it had looked, crawling along outside Warren’s house, its windows all black and shiny…
She gave a grim smile.
She ran on.
Then, mixed in with the keening wind, she caught a faint whimper. Like a small animal was lost or something.
A hand clawed at her ankle.
Her mouth went dry.
She gasped.
Her knees sagged and she fell—onto a lumpy kind of hump.
The hand slid away.
“Who… What the hell…!”
“Goddamn stupid thing to do put your garbage out on the sidewalk,” she muttered.
“Git offa me…”
Deana started at the weak, whiny voice.
She scrambled to her feet.
“My
Mommy Dearest.
Lying in a heap on the sidewalk.
Clutching Harry, wrapped in a blanket.
The blanket fell open and Harry rolled out, his legs in the air. His eyes jerked around. His mouth hung open, his small red tongue panting against needle-fine teeth.
Harry was in a bad way.
“Help us, please!” Mommy Dearest pleaded. “Had one a’ my derned attacks agin.”
The hag shook her head, her wispy hair floating in the wind. She looked a little confused.
“Should never’a come out t’night,” she muttered.
“Here, let me help,” Deana told her. “Lean on my arm, I’ll take you home. Where d’you live?”
“Back there a ways, dear,” the hag gestured behind her, somewhere up the steep hill.
“Well, hold on to me.” Deana helped Mommy Dearest to her feet. “How about Harry? He looks sick, too. Want me to hold him, too?”
“Don’t y’let him fall, now, will ya?”
“Course not.”
