years. Not once during that time did I have the nightmare. I rubbed my empty gut at the painful memories.
I checked the A/C unit. Frosted over, just as I suspected. I wrote a quick note to the building supervisor and stuck it to his door on my way out.
The air, already warm and sticky, wrapped around me like a wet blanket as I stepped outside. Why people actually chose to live in thick damp air instead of the dry climate the desert offered remained a mystery to me.
The library was on my way to the hospital and I stopped to see if they had any office décor magazines I could show to Cole. He was nervous about the furniture I hoped to use so I thought a few pictures might settle him down a bit.
I entered the brick building with its turn of the century architecture, the musty smell of books greeting me like an old friend. I loved to read. When I was looking for work, I had very little time to escape into a great novel. I went straight to the help desk and waited for the girl sitting behind the counter to finish her phone call. Bambi was her name, if I believed the tag on her black fishnet vest. She also had a cute black and red plaid mini skirt, and a pair of ripped up black tights, along with untied black army boots. Sort of a Goth-meets-punk look. I loved it.
“I need a magazine that contains current style office furniture. I’m redecorating an office,” I explained after she blew kisses into the phone at some guy named Alex before hanging up. “I’d like something simple, not super fancy.”
“I think I know exactly what you need. Follow me.” She led me over to a column of magazines situated against the back wall. “This is sort of, like, a Decorating for Dummies type magazine. It’s pretty good. What kind of, like, office, are you going to be decorating?”
“A doctor’s office at Port Fare General Hospital.” I took the red and gold magazine from her and fanned through the pages. Perfect.
“I have a friend who, like, volunteered at PFG for a while. Part of a class she was taking at the college.” I nodded out of politeness as I studied the layouts. A brown leather couch with dark mustard pillows. That’d be perfect for Cole’s office.
“Maggie Brown’s her name.”
My head popped up, eyes wide. Seriously? “She’s a friend of mine also.” This town was way too small.
“She’s great. I met her, like, three years ago, right before she had a run-in with some, like, really nasty drug dealers. They almost killed her.” She shook her head in disgust.
A wave of nausea hit me squarely, and I about dropped my magazine.
“Real creepers, those two. One was into cutting up young girls. I think he killed like four, maybe five. He almost got Maggie. . . Hey, like, are you alright?” Bambi grabbed a chair from a nearby table and guided me into it.
It had to be Alan and his knife. His pearl handled knife. I shuddered at my memory.
“Let me get you some water. You don’t look so good,” said little Miss Goth-punker.
“I’m fine, really. I don’t do the whole blood and guts stories, you know what I mean?”
She nodded. “Yes, and those killings were gruesome.” Bambi wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
I needed to leave. “Thanks, Bambi. I’d better get going.” I went to the check out, but then remembered I didn’t have a library card and turned back to her.
“I don’t have a card.”
“You have to have a utility bill or rental agreement from the county to get a card,” Goth-Bambi informed me.
“Can I bring in my lease tomorrow?”
“I’m not supposed to, but since you’re a friend of Maggie’s and all, like, I could call her. If she’ll vouch for you, we can bend the rules, but you have to promise to bring in a copy of your bill next time you come in.” I thanked her repeatedly as she called Maggie.
She and Maggie talked for several minutes about Alex, Bambi’s motorcycle riding boyfriend , before she hung up. After a few strokes on her computer, a hard