“You didn’t tell him, did you?” His grip was so tight that it hurt.
“Let me go.” She tried not to sound panicked, but her heart was racing.
“I told you to give him my message. Maybe he didn’t need it. Maybe you’re the problem.”
“Let me go,” she said, trying to back away.
“I’m not kidding, lady,” he said. “I am really tired of all of this, and I’m giving him one more chance to quit.”
“I’m giving you one more chance to let me go before I scream for help,” she said as forcefully as she could.
He looked at his hand as if it had operated without his permission. Then he released her.
She ran for the restaurant, dodging traffic as she hurried across the street. Once, she glanced over her shoulder, but he wasn’t following her. He was just watching.
When she got inside, she stopped and stared out the window. Hands touched her shoulder, and she jumped. She turned to see the maître d’ trying to help her remove her coat.
“Are you all right, miss?” he asked. “You want me to call the police?”
She looked out the window again. Muffler Man was gone.
“No,” she said. “I’ll be all right.”
But she was lying. She wouldn’t be all right. Her arm ached, and she was scared.
This time, she would have to tell Rick.
“The minute it happened,” Rick said, “you should have called me.”
“I had an important lunch.” Ada ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t called him because she didn’t want him to interfere with her life, her work, any more than he already had. She had waited until she had finished for the day, and even then, she had driven home instead of picking up the phone.
They were in the bedroom. Rick stood in front of the window, looking down. Their neighbor’s house was empty. Usually no one arrived home until seven.
“Was he following you?”
“I don’t know,” she said, and she didn’t. She had no idea why Muffler Man had been in that parking lot.
“Well, is he stalking you? You said this happened before.”
“Here,” she said. “He came here. He was looking for you.”
“So he said.” Rick leaned his forehead against the glass. His biceps bunched as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“I believe him,” Ada said.
“You’d believe anyone.”
Ada flinched. Did Rick really think so little of her, or was he lashing out in his anger at their neighbor?
“He said you had to stop—”
“I know what he said.” Rick moved away from the window. “I’m not doing anything. I’ve even stopped complaining. Maybe he thinks he can harass us like he thinks I’m harassing them.”
Rick paced to the bed, to the door, then to the window again, looking out as if he were checking to see if the neighbors had come home in the few seconds he was gone.
“It’s too late to call the police.” He pressed a fist against the frame. “You should have told me right away.”
“It’s not too late,” Ada said. “The maître d’ saw everything. They’d know we weren’t making it up.”
“And they’d wonder why you waited until now.”
“We tell them the truth — you told me to call.”
Rick shook his head. “Won’t do any good now. They’d have to catch him in the act, or near the act. Maybe I’ll have a talk with him.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Ada said, remembering how angry the man had been.
“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Rick snapped. “You screwed this up enough. I’ll handle it from here.”
And with that, the conversation was closed.
Ada put a hand over her distressed stomach and made her way down the stairs to watch something mindless on television. Anything to keep her distracted.
Maybe she should ignore his request this time. Just because his mind was made up didn’t mean she had to live with it. She could talk to the neighbor — after all, he’d been approaching her. She could find out what had him so upset, and maybe she could change it.
Maybe. All she knew was she had to try.
The neighbors got home at seven-thirty, their arrival heralded by a basketball hitting the side of Ada’s house. She expected Rick to speed down the stairs and launch himself out the door, but he remained in the office, working on his computer. He seemed so involved that, for a moment, she thought of going to Muffler Man’s then.
But she didn’t. She wanted no chance of being caught. No chance at all.
The next day, she planned to visit the house at lunch — the wife was often home then, and Ada thought she might be easier to talk to — but the sheriff changed her plans.
He arrived at seven A.M., the flashing lights from his squad car sending pale blue and red squares across the bedroom ceiling. His pounding woke Ada up, but Rick was already awake. He was standing near the window, his body turned toward the side so that no one looking up could see in.
Voices rose below: Muffler Man’s deep and indignant, swearing he’d made payments and had checks as proof; the wife’s shrill and sharp, demanding that the sheriff wait for their lawyer; and the sheriff himself, claiming the problem was not his.
Ada thought Rick would be angry at the noise, at the interruption of his morning ritual, but he wasn’t. He was bobbing on the soles of his feet, his hastily donned gym shorts leaving nothing to the imagination, an expression of satisfaction on his face.
Ada grabbed her robe just as the beep-beep-beep of a truck in reverse echoed throughout the neighborhood and then she walked to the window which, to her surprise, was open. Rick never left the window open, claiming it let in too much noise.
“Not so close,” he hissed as she approached.
But she ignored him, facing the window head-on. A tow truck had latched onto the rear axle of the muscle car and was dragging it onto the street. The sheriff was supervising the truck. A deputy stood near the house’s door so that no one would interfere.
The rest of the neighborhood watched, from their doorways and windows. The children sat on the stoop as if their world had ended, and the wife was nowhere to be seen.
Muffler Man stood in the middle of the lawn, another deputy beside him. His fists pushed against his hips, and he looked more like a linebacker than ever.
He also seemed to know that Ada had reached the window. His gaze met hers and his lips moved. Even though she couldn’t understand what he was mouthing, she knew it had to be a threat.
“Serves them right,” Rick whispered. “Someone must have complained about the noise.”
“The sheriff doesn’t seize a vehicle because of noise,” Ada said.
“If it’s nonpayment, maybe they’ll move.” Rick continued to whisper. “Or get evicted.”
“It takes years to get evicted from your own house,” Ada said.
The tow truck dragged the car down the center of the block. The school bus stopped at the corner, waiting for the tow truck to go by.
“We didn’t even get any warning notices,” Muffler Man said to the deputy, but his gaze was still on Ada. She backed away from the window.
“It’s not our problem, sir,” the deputy said. “You’ll have to contact your creditors.”
Rick was smiling. Ada pulled the window closed. “You shouldn’t be so happy about someone else’s misfortune.”
“Couldn’t happen to a nicer family,” Rick said, and headed to the shower.
She was shaking. The files haunted her. The credit history, the personal files. Had Rick done something to get the car repossessed?
He couldn’t have. Muffler Man had to be lying, trying to cover up for failing to make his car payments.
The children were still sitting on their stoop, even though the bus had stopped at its usual place near the driveway. Muffler Man shook himself, as if waking from a nightmare, and walked to his children.