Free The Nightcrawler by Mick Ridgewell Page B

white T-shirt that was loose on her shoulders and tight around the hips.
    “Hey Annie,” Grace called out, waving.  
    Annie walked over to the table.  
    “Scott, this is Annie.”  
    “Hi Annie, it’s a pleasure.”  
    Annie nodded but didn’t say anything. Grace excused herself and walked with Annie into the kitchen.  
    Scott took a twenty out of his pocket and put in on the table. The price on the menu was $6.99. He felt somehow ashamed. She was a nice lady. Not old enough to be his mother, but maybe his mother’s little sister, and he checked her out like a butcher eyeing a side of beef. He stood up and left, not wanting to wait until she got back.  
    He opened the car door, but before getting in, he heard a familiar voice. “You forgot your change.”  
    Grace was standing a few yards away. She looked younger out here. The sun’s rays put a glow on her face that seemed to erase the lines he’d noticed inside.
    He just raised his hand up in front of him as if to keep her at arms length.
    “That’s okay, Grace. Keep it.”  
    “Listen, Scott,” she said coming closer. “I live up top of Charlie’s. Would you like to come up and chat? It does get lonely up there.”
    He could feel an erection coming on. His wish to sneak away before she got back to the table had been replaced by a lust that over took him with a fury. He closed the car door and stepped toward her. With a pleased look on her face, she turned and he followed her to the stairs at the side of the building.
    Scott spent most of the afternoon up in Grace’s place. He had never known sex like that. She was like a piano teacher placing a child’s hands on the correct keys. Only her body was the piano and he was the child. She was setting the pace. At first, she slowed him down. If he moved too slowly, she would shift gears and he would follow. He felt like he was doing it for the first time. He was tempted to stay the night when she invited him, but decided against it.  
    “You better stop in next time you’re in Michigan,” Grace insisted.
    He just nodded politely and went out to the car.
    Scott Randall would never see Grace or Charlie’s again.

Chapter Ten
    Forest Glenn, Indiana, is a quaint little hollow not quite half way between Fort Wayne and Indianapolis. It’s mostly a residential community, home to commuters who make the daily trip to nearby Muncie, or Anderson.
    It’s Mayberry living at its best. With a population of less than two thousand, everyone knows everyone else’s business. The only commerce in town is on Main Street. Standing on the corner of Main and First is the Mercantile Trust, a classy looking building with a stone facade and columns framing the main entrance. A large white-faced clock with Roman numerals keeps time over the door. It’s been the only banking in town since Forest Glenn became a town. Looking out from the bank you can see Gordon’s Pharmacy, a sign in the window advertising Coca Cola, $5.99 a case. Opposite Gordon’s stands a newer two story brick building, The Forest Glenn Medical Center, a list of doctors and dentists displayed in brass on the marquee in front. Across from the bank, Amy’s Deli, in the window a poster promoting adopt-a-dog week at the Forest Glenn Shelter.
    Looking in either direction down Main Street, it isn’t the bowling alley, or the shops that catch your eye. Not the gas station or the high school. It is the clean tree-lined streets. Almost too clean, like they were actually on a Hollywood set and Gene Kelly was going to come dancing down the middle of the road any minute. There are no concrete light poles standing twenty feet above the road. These are the old-fashioned black iron light poles, the kind with the frosted white spheres on top.  
    One block north or south of First, Main turns residential, with grand old houses from days gone by. No two alike on the full length of the street.  
    On the corner of Main Street and Maple sits a stately Georgian two and a