The sun had long since set, and the street was dark except for the small oasis of light beneath regularly spaced lamps. Once she got out of sight of the people around the hotel, Caitlin removed her sunglasses.
The ocean breeze tossed the crests of the trees, and they swayed dimly against the yellow-gray bellies of scattered clouds. This area of Presidio had been set aside for development when the rest of the old Army post had been converted to a national park. Caitlin didn’t know whose pockets had been lined by that exclusion, but it was obvious that someone’s had. The view from the top of the hill was just too spectacular not to develop.
The developed area ended abruptly, and Caitlin found herself in the park. She walked slowly, paying little attention to where she was going, but she kept to the sidewalk. Trails ran throughout the park, but she was neither dressed for hiking nor in the mood to explore the darker paths that wound between the oleander and beneath the eucalyptus and firs.
Twelve years. Twelve years she and Scott had been married, and for two years before that, they’d been lovers. They had shared common interests, common goals, and ... much love. She had never expected their love to fade, but it had. The love had gone, vanished somewhere in time, but they were still friends. Good friends. This was the loss that bothered her so. Good friends were even harder to find than mates. And they had been such friends. Scott was a great listener. When she was troubled, he would sit with rapt attention until she had unburdened her soul and he understood. Unlike most men, he didn’t automatically offer fixes for what bothered her; rather he empathized and allowed her the space to determine her own solutions.
Fog gradually enveloped her. It came in from the seaward side of the peninsula, rolling in, hugging the ground in its embrace until visibility was less than a hundred feet.
Caitlin became aware of the strap on her case digging into her shoulder. She remembered she’d left her notebook computer in it. Its two pounds seemed more like twenty after a long walk. She should have left it in her room.
Caitlin shifted the thick strap to her other shoulder. After dark, parking was banned in the park, and the street was deserted. Caitlin continued to walk and listened for the sound of a car engine. She didn’t have long to wait.
Turning, she saw the lights of a car coming through the opalescent fog. It moved slowly, cautiously. When it neared, she saw it was a yellow cab. Caitlin stepped to the curve and held up her hand. The taxi slowed and pulled toward her. Wipers dragged noisily against the windshield as they removed the thickening mist. Caitlin shivered. It would be good to be in a warm restaurant.
The cab stopped with its rear door even with her. Caitlin gripped the handle and pulled the door open. The interior light was out. She had one foot inside when she realized the back seat was already occupied.
“Oh, excuse me. I thought this cab was free.”
The man’s voice was pleasantly soft. “That’s all right. I told him to stop for you. I don’t mind sharing.”
“That’s very considerate.”
“Where to lady?” the driver asked.
“Alliotto’s, please.”
Another car appeared in the fog. Its headlights lit the interior of the cab for a few seconds before it passed.
Still half in the door, Caitlin froze.
In those brief seconds the headlights played across the stranger’s face, Caitlin recognized him. It was the man from her room. The one with the gun, except that now a thin bandage covered his nose. Caitlin pushed herself back out of the taxi as the man lunged across the seat after her. His fingers brushed the edge of her skirt, closed on it, and pulled.
She stumbled and caught herself against the door and roof. He lunged closer, trying for a better grip. Caitlin pushed away from the taxi and slammed the door hard on his wrist.
“Ow! Damn bitch!”
Her skirt slipped free of his grasp and Caitlin caught the edge of the door with both hands and slammed it again. Too late, the man had pulled his hand safely inside.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the driver yelled.
“Mind your own business.” The glass muffled the passenger’s voice.
Caitlin moved back from the taxi. Her head twisted from side to side looking for an escape route.
“Yeah? Get outta my cab!”
She could see the driver silhouetted against the dashboard lights, a microphone raised to his lips. “Central, I need–”
Over the noise of the taxi’s engine, Caitlin heard a soft spitting sound and the driver’s head snapped forward against the steering wheel.
Fear burned through her veins like acid. She backed away. Away from the taxi’s bright headlights. Away from the man with the gun. Away from certain death.
Her feet reached the edge of the walk. Unprepared for the sharp drop, she stumbled. She flailed wildly as she fell into the thick oleander. The branches clutched at her, keeping her upright, but impeding her retreat. Caitlin turned, lowered her head, raised an arm to protect her face, and pressed into the undergrowth.
Behind her, she heard the taxi’s door open.
Caitlin didn’t look back. Her fate would match the cabby’s if she didn’t get out of sight soon. She pressed deeper into the brush. The undergrowth clung to her as if it were some vassal of the killer.
Hard-soled shoes pounded the pavement behind her.
The spitting sound came again, and the air buzzed near her.
A startled squeal escaped her lips. She forced the branches back and dropped
