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Authors: Beverly Connor
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her right now, she thought. There were deep, dark circles under her eyes and scratches on her face where limbs and underbrush had whipped and slapped at her. Her short brown hair was tangled and plastered to her head from the rain. She actually looked worse than she felt.
Diane washed her face, wetting her shirt again after it had almost dried after the drenching rain. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the tangles out and to get her hair to do something besides lie flat. Tammy, apparently, had also taken her comb. She examined herself again in the mirror. She didn’t look great, but she wouldn’t scare children now. She cupped her hand and rinsed her mouth out with tap water.
When she finished, she bought a cup of black coffee, two Milky Way candy bars, a tube of Neosporin, a box of Kleenex, a small bottle of mouthwash, a pocket comb, and a tire gauge.
“Looks like you’ve been out in the rain,” said the clerk, a girl who looked too young to be working at night by herself. “I hate carrying umbrellas too. I’d rather just get wet.”
But an umbrella could make a great weapon in a pinch , Diane thought. “The rain kind of messes with your hair, though,” she said, smiling. She paid for the purchases and walked out to her car.
She scanned the parking lot, particularly the shadowy places, looking for a vehicle that might be waiting for her. Paranoid , she accused herself. But she wasn’t altogether confident that Slick hadn’t followed her. She shivered and got in her SUV, thankful for the people who were coming and going from the store, despite the hour of the night.
First, she rubbed the Neosporin into the scratches on her arm with a tissue, hoping they weren’t going to get infected. After the first aid, she used the mouthwash to rinse the stale taste of twenty-four hours away from a toothbrush from her mouth and return her taste buds to normal. Much better. She ate the candy bars and drank her coffee. The coffee was old and bitter, but the hot liquid felt good going down her throat, and the caffeine would have a welcome kick. Then she combed her hair. That would have to do.
She got out and measured the air in her tires. Just the thought of a flat tire put her stomach in a knot. Shit , she thought, as she checked the last tire. She hadn’t looked, but she’d bet Slick and Tammy had stolen her spare tire. “Of course they did,” she said out loud. “Why wouldn’t they have? I was lucky they hadn’t completely stripped the vehicle.”
She opened the back and looked in the spare-tire compartment. It was there. “I guess I owe them an apology,” she muttered.
Diane got back in the SUV and drove out onto the road, glad to be on her way again. The coffee and sugar were already revving up her system. She felt better.
As she drove, she checked and rechecked her rearview mirror, looking for headlights that came too close, or a truck silhouette she might recognize. But the headlights were always too bright for her to make out anything. And nobody tailgated.
She wanted to call Frank back and talk with him the remaining way to Rosewood. That would make her feel safe, but she would be focused on the conversation and not on the road in front of and behind her.
“Stop it,” she said out loud. “Just stop. What has happened to you? You’ve been through worse and come out better than this.” She pressed the gas pedal and accelerated as fast as she dared on the dark two-lane road, relieved that it was paved, always watching the headlights behind her. There weren’t many cars out on the road between Rendell and Rose counties that time of night. It was a lonely stretch of road. She accelerated again, leaving the headlights behind her.
Diane breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Rosewood city limits sign—and the lampposts that lined the streets. She was so tired of the dark. She looked in the rearview mirror again, still seeing only headlights, not the vehicles behind them. Several
Diane washed her face, wetting her shirt again after it had almost dried after the drenching rain. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the tangles out and to get her hair to do something besides lie flat. Tammy, apparently, had also taken her comb. She examined herself again in the mirror. She didn’t look great, but she wouldn’t scare children now. She cupped her hand and rinsed her mouth out with tap water.
When she finished, she bought a cup of black coffee, two Milky Way candy bars, a tube of Neosporin, a box of Kleenex, a small bottle of mouthwash, a pocket comb, and a tire gauge.
“Looks like you’ve been out in the rain,” said the clerk, a girl who looked too young to be working at night by herself. “I hate carrying umbrellas too. I’d rather just get wet.”
But an umbrella could make a great weapon in a pinch , Diane thought. “The rain kind of messes with your hair, though,” she said, smiling. She paid for the purchases and walked out to her car.
She scanned the parking lot, particularly the shadowy places, looking for a vehicle that might be waiting for her. Paranoid , she accused herself. But she wasn’t altogether confident that Slick hadn’t followed her. She shivered and got in her SUV, thankful for the people who were coming and going from the store, despite the hour of the night.
First, she rubbed the Neosporin into the scratches on her arm with a tissue, hoping they weren’t going to get infected. After the first aid, she used the mouthwash to rinse the stale taste of twenty-four hours away from a toothbrush from her mouth and return her taste buds to normal. Much better. She ate the candy bars and drank her coffee. The coffee was old and bitter, but the hot liquid felt good going down her throat, and the caffeine would have a welcome kick. Then she combed her hair. That would have to do.
She got out and measured the air in her tires. Just the thought of a flat tire put her stomach in a knot. Shit , she thought, as she checked the last tire. She hadn’t looked, but she’d bet Slick and Tammy had stolen her spare tire. “Of course they did,” she said out loud. “Why wouldn’t they have? I was lucky they hadn’t completely stripped the vehicle.”
She opened the back and looked in the spare-tire compartment. It was there. “I guess I owe them an apology,” she muttered.
Diane got back in the SUV and drove out onto the road, glad to be on her way again. The coffee and sugar were already revving up her system. She felt better.
As she drove, she checked and rechecked her rearview mirror, looking for headlights that came too close, or a truck silhouette she might recognize. But the headlights were always too bright for her to make out anything. And nobody tailgated.
She wanted to call Frank back and talk with him the remaining way to Rosewood. That would make her feel safe, but she would be focused on the conversation and not on the road in front of and behind her.
“Stop it,” she said out loud. “Just stop. What has happened to you? You’ve been through worse and come out better than this.” She pressed the gas pedal and accelerated as fast as she dared on the dark two-lane road, relieved that it was paved, always watching the headlights behind her. There weren’t many cars out on the road between Rendell and Rose counties that time of night. It was a lonely stretch of road. She accelerated again, leaving the headlights behind her.
Diane breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Rosewood city limits sign—and the lampposts that lined the streets. She was so tired of the dark. She looked in the rearview mirror again, still seeing only headlights, not the vehicles behind them. Several
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