Authors: Brenda Hill
She had never noticed how black the night really was. And how loud her footsteps sounded on the concrete sidewalk that fronted the shadowed porches of the bungalow-style homes. The sound raised goose-bumps. It was almost as if she were alone in a vast, open pit.
She picked up her pace. Strange, how familiar surroundings could seem so different at night. Especially after someone had pointed out all the dangers.
Darn that Diana! And Carrie’s prediction. Desolation, for heaven’s sake. No, she wouldn’t think about it. She couldn’t.
A slight wind came up and she heard a rustling sound behind her. She whipped around. Nothing but a crumpled old flier, floating on the wind. Night was no different than day. It was just darker.
She didn’t want to admit she felt uneasy.
But she hurried along until she was almost running the last few feet to her apartment.
Chapter Twelve
During her break the next evening, Tracy sat at the parlor desk working on her budget. It had been a slow day with barely any customers. The old house creaked and groaned and Tracy was glad it was almost time to go home.
She closed her checkbook. No matter how many times she calculated, the numbers didn’t add up to what she needed. There was no way around it; she had to talk to Mr. Madden again.
The grandfather clock chimed eight. Tracy looked up, expecting Karr to make his rounds, but she didn’t see him. That was strange; he was usually right on time.
Rising, she wandered through the front part of the house, but still no Karr. She entered the dining room just as Maria, the night kitchen worker, passed through the butterfly doors. They thumped a few times before closing.
“I ought to push them again, make some noise in here,” Maria said, shivering. “It’s spooky tonight. Something’s in the air. Don’t you feel it?” She looked around, eyes big in her round chocolate face.
Tracy glanced behind her and in the corners as if something sinister were lurking in the shadows.
Suddenly, an earsplitting screeching noise spewed through the house, sounding like a dying woman’s scream.
“Good God!” Tracy looked wildly around. Maria ran for the back door. The static changed to soft background music, and Maria, her hand on the knob, looked up. Tracy followed her gaze to the recessed speakers in the ceiling. She hadn’t noticed when the music started cutting in and out.
Okay, that was enough. She had to stay until nine to close up and she didn’t want to jump at every little sound. Still, her knees shook. Thank goodness she was next to a chair; she slid onto the wooden seat.
“You’re just like Carrie. She’s bad enough, talking about predictions and all that.”
“Don’t you know there’s more to this life than what you see?” Maria, her hand on her chest as if to help her breathe, made her way to the kitchen, only to return a moment later with her handbag, a Diet Coke and two glasses.
“I’m having enough trouble dealing with visible problems,” Tracy said, gulping her drink. “I don’t need to hear something ‘from beyond’.”
“Well, you better not shut your mind to the unknown,” Maria warned her. “Sometimes we all need to listen. And take precautions.”
“Have you seen Karr?” Tracy asked. “He’s supposed to be making rounds.”
“Been too busy cleaning up.” Maria got up to walk to the back door and peek out. “Not here yet.” She dug in her bag and took out a tube of lotion. “I hate what soapy water does to my skin. Don’t know why I don’t quit.”
“Same reason I don’t. Money.”
“Tony says these late hours aren’t worth it.” Maria rubbed lotion onto her hands. “Until he wants a new gadget for his car.”
“You know he’d rather have you home.”
From outside, the sound of their Grand Am’s mufflers roared through the night. “He’s here!” Maria jumped up and ran for the door.
After waving them off and throwing the deadbolt, Tracy reflected on how lucky Maria was to have a husband to pick her up. She’d never admit it to Diana, but she didn’t like walking home so late. But she would get used to it; she had to.
She just entered the stairwell to look for Karr when the phone rang. It was someone asking about tour prices and hours.
At eight-forty, Tracy strolled through the museum turning off lights and pulling shades behind white sheers. She was reaching for the yellow globe in the lobby when a man in jeans and a navy pullover walked through the front door and asked when they closed.
“In five minutes,” Tracy told him, “but we’ll be open at nine in the morning. Here’s a brochure. Come on back, we have some wonderful memorabilia from the eighteen-hundreds.”
“Too bad it’s so late,” he said. “I would have enjoyed a tour.” Tall and heavily tanned, he seemed like someone who belonged in the sun.
“We start at ten, but if you’d like to come early, you can wander at your leisure.”
“Will you be here?” His hazel eyes were warm.
“Not at nine.”
“I hear a Southern accent. Where are you from?”
“Louisiana.”
“Ahh, land of the Southern belles.”
Tracy felt heat rush to her face.
“That’s a mighty pretty blush. I didn’t know women still did that sort of thing.”
Tracy was accustomed to people commenting on her accent, but something about the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. And desirable. It felt good.
She heard a floorboard squeak in the direction of the parlor. She listened, but didn’t hear anything else.
The man offered his hand. “I’m Kevin Boyle. I’m new in town, and I don’t know many people. I wonder if you’d consider—”
“What’s going on here?” Karr’s brusque voice interrupted. “We’re closed.” He sauntered over and stood directly in front of Kevin, hands on his belt.
Astonished, Tracy stared at Karr.
“It’s okay, there’s no problem. He was just leaving,” she told him. Karr usually kept in the background when making his rounds, and had never spoken unless a visitor asked something. She didn’t know what to make of his rude behavior.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Kevin, “please feel free to return in the morning. You’ll be very welcome.”
Karr didn’t move, just stood in front of the man, almost nose to nose like a living, breathing wall.
Kevin opened his mouth as if to say something. Karr’s right hand slid to the butt of his gun.
“Karr!” Before she could say anything, Kevin turned and ran out the door. Tracy rushed to the front steps, but the man had disappeared. She strode back inside, shut the door and threw the dead bolt. She was so angry her hands shook.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“Do what?”
“You were rude to a customer and you know it. It was uncalled for, especially threatening him with your gun. Good God, Karr, what were you thinking?”
Karr rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, well, it was time for him to go. Didn’t look like you were gonna tell him.”
“That’s not your concern.”
“What’s the problem? It’s closing time. I got rid of him, didn’t I?”
Tracy brushed by him and headed for the stairwell. She needed to calm down; she still had to make out the deposit. On her way to the office, she thought about speaking to Mr. Madden about the incident, then decided to let it go. For now.
At the desk, she counted the money, sorted the receipts and entered the figures into the computer, all the time listening for footsteps. She wished Ray worked tonight. He sometimes came in before Maria left and worked until ten, but he had this evening off. Tracy made a mental note to ask Mr. Madden if she could arrange her schedule to coincide with Ray’s.
She thought of asking Diana or Judy to pick her up, but she couldn’t call every night, could she? After all, the switch in hours had been at her request. She couldn’t inconvenience everyone else just because she felt too uneasy to walk home.
A few minutes later Tracy took the green zippered bag out of the safe and filled it with the day’s cash and receipts.
“Well, look who’s still here,” Karr said from close behind her.
Tracy shut the safe and stepped back, but not before she caught a faint whiff of alcohol. Had he been drinking? No, it would be plain stupidity to jeopardize a new job that way, and no matter what else she thought of him, she didn’t think he was stupid.
“You must be ready to leave. How about me taking you home?”
“I don’t think so, Karr. You’re supposed to be working. Besides, someone’s coming for me,” she lied.
“Yeah, I bet he is, all over himself. I saw how that guy looked at you.”
The blood rushed to Tracy’s head. Grabbing her purse, she hurried out of the room, unable to take a deep breath until she got out of the museum.
On her walk home, she kept thinking of the things she should have said.
“Looks like you had a rough night,” Judy remarked, closing the romance novel she was reading when Tracy opened the door.
“Horrible.” Tracy dropped her purse and jacket on the floor, something she rarely did.
“Want me to get Mom?”
“No, I just need to unwind.” Tracy plopped down beside Judy and put her arm around her. “Thanks for caring, though. It means a lot. It’s late, you’d better get home.”
“If you’re sure you’re okay.” Judy gathered her things. “See you tomorrow.”
Tracy closed the door, feeling fortunate to have a babysitter so close. Between Judy and Diana, Tracy was able to work as much as she needed. In return, she kept Diana’s youngest overnight whenever she and Greg went clubbing.
The baby was in his question mark position again. Sleeping soundly. She needed to hold him, needed to feel close to his warmth. Picking him up, she burrowed her nose in his neck. His eyes opened and he gave her a snaggle-tooth grin before sticking his thumb into his mouth.
Tracy hugged him close and talked to him, telling him how much she loved him. She waltzed with him around the room in time to the tune she hummed. When he got a little older, she’d dance with him the way her father had done with her.
One memory was a favorite, one she thought of over and over, especially when she felt alone and frightened. They were at home and it was after supper. Her father had been dancing with her mother, then he turned to Tracy. He bowed deeply, extending an invitation with the sweep of his arms. Giggling, she curtsied and placed her small feet over his. Off they went, waltzing around and around in big open circles. She looked up at him, loving him so much she thought her heart would burst.
But now she had Ritchie to love. She gave him a loud kiss on the cheek and twirled one last time around the room.
When he was asleep again, Tracy got ready for bed, but she felt edgy and couldn’t settle down. She brewed a cup of tea and picked up a paperback novel. But twenty pages later, she had no idea what she’d read. Instead, she kept seeing Karr and hearing his crude remark.
She frowned, setting her cup on the end table. Had she put the moneybag in the safe? Or had she left it out on the desk? Mentally, she retraced her steps, starting from the time she went to Mr. Madden’s office.
She remembered opening the safe for the green bag, placing the money and receipts in it. Then Karr came in. She knew she had closed the safe, but had she placed the moneybag in it?
She couldn’t remember!
Don’t panic, just think. Take a deep breath and go through it again. She went over each step again until she came to putting the money in the safe. Had she or hadn’t she?
She didn’t know.
Okay. If it was still on the desk, then what? Would it cause a problem?
Of course it would. Even if it was safe tonight, Mr. Madden would find out and never trust her again. He just might fire her. It was no small error; it was an entire day’s cash receipts. And that would be the end of all her plans. No, she just couldn’t risk it. There was too much at stake.
But who could she contact about it at this time of night? There was Karr. He could check, and if she left it out, he could put it in the safe for her.
No. She couldn’t and wouldn’t ask him. Mr. Madden would really have cause to fire her, perhaps even bring charges against her if she gave the combination to anyone.
Her tea forgotten, she sat clicking her nails on her teeth, her heart thudding.
There was only one thing she could so. She had to go back and check. Okay, she glanced at her watch, almost midnight. How could she get there?
If it were any other time, she would wake Diana. She wouldn’t mind, they both had occasional work emergencies. But Diana had a cold and Tracy didn’t want to disturb her. She could call a taxi, but she didn’t want to spend the money just to ride to work.
That left walking.
She hurriedly threw on her clothes, hoping Judy was still up, and tiptoed down the stairs and around to Judy’s window. The light was still on. Sighing with relief, Tracy tapped lightly.
Judy pulled back the curtain. “What’s the matter? Something wrong with Ritchie?” When Tracy explained, she said, “I’ll grab my book and be right up.”
Tracy thanked her and cut across the grass to the street, trying to ignore the black night and the crawling sensation of being the only person alive.