Free 08 - December Dread by Jess Lourey Page B

little in my spare time. The Chicago Daily News was one of the biggest papers in the Midwest. “See you around.”
    “Yep.” He tapped my window ledge and gave me a little wave. As I drove away, I wondered what level of skill and education were required to become a real reporter, one with an actual beat. He only seemed a few years older than me. Grayer, certainly, and reserved in a way that was hard to pinpoint, but I assumed that was a natural byproduct of covering a rampaging serial killer for three years.
    I noticed my gas gauge was inching below empty. I pulled into a Munch-N-Go station, filled my tank, and went inside to pay and buy a bag of corn nuts. For a couple months I’d been trying to kick the corn nut habit because they smelled bad. Also, I felt like corn was the bully of the grain world and wanted to start giving other foods and maybe even a legume or two more attention. Too bad the nuts of the corn plant were so delicious. I was choosing between plain and ranch-flavored—the latter being fairly poor marketing if you think about it—when a conversation at the front of the store caught my ear. Some guy in an ill-fitting suit was trying to sell a line of candies to the woman behind the counter. It was his nasal accent that stood out.
    “Salted caramels are our best-seller. We’re famous for ’em.”
    “Where would I put them? I don’t have any counter space as it is.”
    “Not to worry. Check this out!”
    I inched away from the corn nuts so I could see what he was referring to. He held a tiered metal basket that he hooked to the cigarette pack dispenser over her head, where it dangled in previously unused space. Each level was stocked full of a different kind of candy. Saliva began to pool in my mouth.
    “Wow,” she said, and it sounded like she meant it. “Well, I’d have to talk to my husband first. Do you have a card?”
    “I have one right here. Take some complimentary candies, too. I hope to hear from you soon.”
    He bent down to grab his materials, and I caught his profile. It was pointy, his generous nose and mouth close together at the bottom of his face and his eyes up high in his forehead. He wasn’t disfigured, exactly, but if you rolled him in brown fur, he’d at least place in a guinea pig lookalike contest.
    “Thank you! These are delicious. You drive safe now, okay?”
    He turned back toward her, and I heard a smile in his voice. “Will do.”
    I grabbed the plain corn nuts and a pack of peppermint gum and made my way to the counter. “Gas on pump two,” I said.
    The woman smiled at me. “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
    I glanced outside. The day was gray, but it wasn’t snowing and the roads were clear. “Sure.” I pointed at the pile of caramels. “Are you going to start carrying those?”
    “I don’t know. I just got them. Want to try one?” She slid over a candy about the size of my pinkie finger, creamy brown caramel in a clear wrapper. The outside read “Chi-Town Candies Famous Salted Caramels” in fancy white script.
    “Thank you.” I tugged on each end of the wrapper and it untwisted. I popped the caramel into my mouth and went a little weak at the knees. It tasted of fresh butter and sugar with a hint of salt to keep it from being too sweet. “Oh. My. God.”
    “I know.” She smiled. “I think I’ll be able to convince my husband we need these.”
    “Please do,” I said. I paid for my purchases. By the time I reached my car, the salesman was gone.
    With nowhere else to go, I returned home, deep in thought on the drive. How could such a large police and FBI force be trying to find the same man, with no success? Where would the killer strike next? My head was thick with the dark possibilities.
    My mom wasn’t home when I arrived, but she’d left a note that she was playing bridge with friends and would be home this afternoon. That must have been where I’d seen her going earlier today, if it had in fact been her. I fixed myself an early dinner of a