“Now I want to say something else and it’s very important, Ann. If you ever, and I mean ever, need me for anything at all you call me, okay? I’ll be there for you, anytime, any day. Will you promise me you’ll do that?”
His voice was emphatic, almost forceful.
“I don’t want to bother you with my problems, Jerry,” Ann said.
“Please, Ann. Don’t shut me out. I want to help you in anyway I can. As a friend, if nothing else. Let me help you.” he persisted.
Ann smiled, grateful and relieved at Jerry’s offer. “Okay, Jerry. That’s very kind of you.”
“Do I have your word on it?”
Ann nodded. “Yes, you have my word.”
“Excellent. Now what’s this about your friend? Do you feel like you can talk about it? Talking helps, you know.”
Ann sighed and took a deep breath. “Marsha was my best friend. We practically grew up together. She was the kindest, most out-going person you could ever know. Anyway, she was found murdered in her home one night by her husband, Dave. She’d been raped and strangled to death. Her little boy, Tommy, was found upstairs locked in a closet-so terrified that he still hasn’t been able to speak to anyone since. The police are totally stumped and don’t have a clue as to who did it.”
Ann swallowed hard before she continued. “This afternoon, Sam called me. He told me that the police in New York City had just confirmed that a woman who was found murdered there a few weeks ago was murdered by the same person who had killed Marsha. The woman, Sara Hunt, used to live in Smithtown and had been a casual acquaintance to both Marsha and I back in high school.”
Jerry’s eyes widened. “Good Lord, Ann! No wonder you’re so concerned! Do you think there might be a connection between these murders; a common motive?”
“That’s what has been so baffling, and frightening. There haven’t been any motives established in either of the murders according to Sam. And I guess the police in New York are just as stumped as the local police in Smithtown are.”
“And no one ever saw the murderer in either instance?”
“Apparently little Tommy Bradley is the only one who might have seen who killed his mother; and he hasn’t been able to speak a word. As for Sara Hunt, Sam indicated that there haven’t been any leads in her case either.”
“That’s incredible. This character must be as clever as he is deranged. Do you think you’re in danger?”
Ann shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know, Jerry. Sam is worried about me of course, but that doesn’t surprise me. He’s always had an overactive imagination. That’s probably from his being a journalist. I’m more realistic than he is, and I honestly can’t think of any way I could possibly be involved in any of this. Marsha just happened to be my best friend. And I barely knew Sara Hunt. My relationship ends there. It is frightening, though. And it really makes one think just how vulnerable we all are nowadays. Until this bastard is caught, no one is really safe.”
Jerry fell silent a moment as he took Ann’s hand in his. Then he said, “I’m here for you, Ann. I just want you to remember that. I don’t feel too good about all of this to be quite honest, and I don’t like the fact that you and Amy are living here all by yourselves. So please don’t hesitate for one moment to call me if anything suspicious occurs. I know I’m being a bit redundant, but I want to be able to leave here tonight assured that you’ll call me if you need me.”
Ann smiled warmly. “I will, Jerry. I promise.” She leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to call it a night, though. I think I drank a little too much wine; I’m suddenly feeling very sleepy.”
Jerry stood up. “I could use a little shut-eye myself. I worked out at the gym this afternoon and it’s starting to catch up with me.”
He followed Ann to the living room and turned to face her at the front door, his eyes showing regret for having to leave her. He put his arms around her waist and said, “Take care, Ann. Do you mind if I call you tomorrow?”
“No, not at all,” she replied. “Thanks, Jerry… for everything. I had a wonderful time.”
“So did I.”
He balked for a moment, obviously deciding whether or not to kiss her. Ann stood for what seemed a very long time before he finally brought his lips to hers. The kiss was brief and tentative, much like her very first kiss when she was in junior high school.
“Good night, Ann. I’ll call you tomorrow. And remember…”
“I know, Jerry. You have my promise.”
Jerry Rankin turned and made his way to the BMW.
Ann waited until he had backed out of the driveway before closing the door. She heard him toot his horn as he pulled away and it dawned on Ann that she regretted his leaving a lot more than she cared to admit to herself.
CHAPTER 10
Sam was two-thirds of the way to La-La Land when he awoke. He had no idea how long he’d been hearing the incessant pounding on the front door before it finally brought him to his senses, but he had a feeling it had been a very long time. It was one of those deals when you think you’ve been dreaming something was happening before you suddenly realized that it actually was happening.
Sam opened his eyes and saw the snowy test pattern on the television screen. The static was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the beating on the door. He sat up on the couch and gazed squint-eyed at the half dozen or so empty beer bottles on the coffee table in the foreground and let out a gasp of disgust when he saw the huge mound of cigarette butts in the ashtray. His head felt like lead as he forced himself up onto his feet, wondering who in the fuck would be banging on his door in the middle of the night.
He stumbled out of the room and headed toward the front door like a drunk being forced to run a marathon at gunpoint. The racket grew incessantly louder as he neared the door, as did the throbbing in his head. He flicked on the front porch light and pulled open the door.
When he saw who it was, Sam thought for sure he was still dreaming.
“Jesus, Sam! I didn’t think you’d ever get here!” she exclaimed.
There in front of him stood Shelley Hatcher: soaked to the bone and her normally thick and lustrous blonde hair clinging limp and lifeless to her blanched but beautiful face.
“Shelley! What the hell..?”
“Let me in, Sam! I’m freezing!” she whined impatiently.
“Sorry,” Sam said, opening the storm door.
She stepped in and stood on the mat, wringing wet. Sam peered out through the pouring rain and saw nothing but his Jeep parked in the driveway.
“How’d you get here?” he asked, stupefied and in shock at this unexpected visit from his former one-night-stand.
Shelley Hatcher stared at him with a pained look. “Well, I drove myself most of the way. Until my car got stuck in the mud, that is. Your driveway is like a river bottom, Sam! Why don’t you get it paved?”
If she didn’t look so pathetic now, Sam would have burst out laughing and said something like, Gee, I would have gotten it paved had I known you were going to show up unexpectedly like this in the middle of a fucking monsoon, Shelley.
Instead, he replied, “Sorry about that. How far is your car?”
“About a hundred yards from the highway-I sure hope my portfolio isn’t ruined. I knew I should’ve left it in the damn car!” she exclaimed as Sam noticed the expensive-looking leather portfolio case that she was holding.
Sam said, “I have to admit that I’m a little speechless right now, Shelley. What are you doing here, anyway? How did you find out where I live?”
Sam could tell that he’d put her off with this line of questioning and he suddenly felt bad.
Shelley looked away for a moment then replied, “I found out from Bill Marshall… He was at the Hi-Light. I just came to say hi and to show you my portfolio… but it’s obvious that you aren’t interested, so I guess I’ll just go now…”
She reached for the doorknob.