nothing.
She pulled her raincoat close around her. Idiot asshole punk? Possibly. But the muscles tightening around her heart questioned that, said maybe it was someone who knew her. Maybe someone who had promised her HERE I COME . Someone who had called her and said nothing, then painted a blood-red target on her door.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
She didnât know how long sheâd been standing there when a couple of sheriffâs officers pulled up in a squad car. Kirsten managed to stop them in their dash for coffee long enough for them to tell her about an all-night truck stop out near I-90. Not that she couldnât change her own damn tire, but it was drizzling now and she wasnât about to. She went inside and called.
By the time a tow truck finally arrived the rain was pouring down. She finished her coffee and a second glazed doughnutâGod only knew how many grams of fatâand watched out the window as a black man, in a yellow hat and slicker, changed her tire. He came inside, smiled, and said she could either pay him on the spot and go on her way, or follow him to the truck stop and buy a new tire.
âIâll buy a new one.â
His smile widened. âThatâs the smart thing. You donât wanna be driving around without a spare. And you canât fix the bad one, either. You run over a nail and Iâll put in a plug thatâll outlast the rest of the tire. But a hole in the sidewall? No way.â
She figured anyone who could change a tire in five minutes in a hard cold rain and not lose his smile knew what he was talking about. She followed him, bought a new tire, and had them check the spare. She took the punctured one with her, too. This time, overreaction or not, she would go to Renfroe Laboratories ⦠with the tire and the postcard both.
By the time she filled her tank with gas and paid for everything, it was midnight and still raining, although now it was back to a drizzle again. She was dog-tired and emotionally drained, and hyped up on coffee. She was also ninety miles from home. She sat in the car and used the cell phone to call Dugan. It rang about five times and he finally picked up.
âIs that you?â he said.
âYour favorite wife,â she chirped. She could tell sheâd woken him up, and she didnât want him to lose more sleep than he had to. âJust called to say Iâm way out in Rockford and I donât feel like driving home in the rain, so Iâm gonna find a motel and crash, and drive back in the morning. Everythingâs fine. No problem. Donât worry. See you tomorââ
âKirsten.â
âWhat?â She didnât like his tone.
âYouâre not telling me the truth.â
âNo, really. Iâm in Rockford.â Chirping again. âI had a flat tire and itâs late andââ
âNot about that. I mean about âeverythingâs fineâ and âno problemâ and the rest of that bubbly bullshit. What happened?â
âJesus,â she said, âarenât I entitled to have a secret? Maybe Iâve taken a lover.â
âUh-huh,â he said. âI hope he hasnât forgotten his Viagra. Now tell me, whatâs going on?â
âOkay, I give,â she said. âI had a scare, but it may have been all in my mind. Anyway, itâs over and no oneâs hurt or anything. Iâll tell you about it, but tomorrow, all right? Honest. Right now Iâm beat, and Iâm gonna crash.â
âGood. I believe you.â
âAnd youâre not gonna worry, right? Becauseââ
âGânight, Kirsten. See you tomorrow.â
âLove you, too.â But heâd already hung up.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Kirsten meant what sheâd said about calling it a day. She left the truck stop and drove around until she was certain there was no one following her and then went to a Holiday Inn. But when she got there