Free Step Into My Parlor by Jan Hudson Page A

"It's j ust not me."
    "Oh, but it is. It's funky. And it's sexy. Spider will go into orbit. My special guy would."
    "Molly, there's nothing like that between us. Spider and I are just good friends."
    "Uh-huh," Molly said, as if she didn't believe a word Anne said. "I ’v e seen the way he looks at you. To die for! I ’v e worked at the Pawn Parlor for over a year, and I've never seen Spider so goosey over a woman. You're a lucky lady. Spider's great."
    In spite of Anne's arguments, she ended up buying the Jumpsuit. Thirty dollars was a bargain, she rationalized. And the quality was excellent.
    They wandered through a wholesale jewelry store, and Molly filled their basket with a mound of costume jewelry, most of which Anne felt was much too gaudy, but her perky companion insisted the pieces were the "in" thing and perfect for her new look. "Funky" was her favorite word. And even though Anne wasn't used to jangling and clunking and flashing as she walked, she had to admit that the things were kind of fun. Maybe being blond made the difference.
    A pair of earrings caught Anne's attention, and she stopped to look at the small gold spiders with tiny blue jewels for eyes. "Oh, look. These would be perfect for Spider."
    "Why don't you get them? He'd love i t."
    "Do you think so? I thought maybe there was some significance to the cutlass. I ’v e never seen him wear anything else."
    Molly shook her head. "Not that I know of. He used to wear a gold hoop sometimes, but I think he lost it."
    On their way out the door, Molly said, "Well, we did it." She checked her watch. "And in four hours and sixteen minutes. It must be a record." Her face lit up with a smile. "We have sixty-three dollars left. What do you want to splurge on? Another purse? Sexy lingerie? I think we ought to go back for the red polka-dot shoes we saw at the warehouse. They would be fabulous with the jumpsuit."
    "I'm pooped. Why don't we save it for another time?"
    Winter's early darkness was falling as they cut across a poorly lit area to the car, parked a distance away. Anne felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she looked over her shoulder, searching the shadows. Being out at night made her feel nervous and vulnerable.
    With the sun gone, the air was chilly and she shivered. A gust of wind rattled a discarded sack and sent it sliding across her feet. She kicked it away and shivered again.
    A car roared to life, and she jumped. How silly, she chided herself, to startle with every little sound. But still, she'd be glad to get back to the safety of the Parlor. And Spider.
    Suddenly, an explosion pierced the quiet. Anne screamed. Her shopping bag went flying as she grabbed Molly and dragged her down, flinging them both flat against the ground.
    Molly yelped and tried to get up, but Anne held her fast.
    "Stay down," Anne hissed.
    "What's going on?"
    Terrifying images flooded her memory. "He's found me again! He's trying to kill me!"
    "Who's trying to kill you?"
    "Preston. Or his hoodlums." Another loud bang exploded. "Oh, Lord!" Hysteria clung to the edges of her sanity, scrambling to rise up and take over her reason. "They must have been following us all day, waiting for their chance. We ’v e got to get out of here. We've got to run!"
    "Anne, listen to me. That was a car backfiring, not a gun."
    "A car?"
    "Yes."
    "Are you sure?"
    "Positive."
    Anne went limp and the breath rushed from her lungs. "Oh, Lord, I feel like such a fool."
    Molly helped her up. "You're shaking like a leaf. Is somebody really trying to kill you?"
    Anne nodded.
    "Are you okay now?"
    Her knees were wobbly, but she brushed her jeans and managed a semblance of a smile. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I acted like an idiot. You must have thought I'd lost my mind."
    Molly laughed as she picked up the shopping bag. "It occurred to me there for a minute." They walked to the car in silence. When they were safely inside, she turned to Anne. "I suppose it's none of my business, but I ’v e always