Death Angel

She couldn’t begin to understand what he was doing. Maybe he was toying with her, like a cat with a mouse. Maybe he was playing some kind of game, waiting to see how long it took her to spot him. If she ran, it would trigger his pounce.

When the next bolt of lightning flashed she couldn’t stop herself from whirling to look out the window, but the dark figure was gone. No one stood outside watching her through the rain, almost daring lightning to strike him. She would almost have thought she was seeing things-almost, if not for the fact that Cassie had seen him, and if not for the way her nerves were twitching and her stomach flip-flopping.

She made herself finish her shift. She made herself take orders, refill cups and glasses, clean away the debris. While she did, she thought about what his appearance meant, and she faced some facts she’d been avoiding for the past eight months.

When her shift ended, she sought out Glenn, who worked longer hours than any of them. Good short-order cooks were hard to come by, and Glenn didn’t want to hire someone who was just adequate; he did too much business for that. If he couldn’t find two other cooks who met his exacting standards, then he worked doubles, without complaining.

"I need to talk to you," she said as she pulled off her apron and tossed it in the laundry basket. "In private, if you can spare a minute."

"Do I look like I can spare a minute?" he groused, his beefy face shiny with sweat. He cast an expert eye over the two order slips hanging from clothespins on a line in front of him. "These two won’t take but a minute, so cool your jets until then. Go wait in my office."

She went into his office and sank down on one of the straight-backed chairs, sighing with relief as she got her weight off her feet. She stretched out her legs and bent her feet back toward her as far as they would go, feeling the pull in her Achilles tendons as they loosened. Then she rotated her ankles, and next her shoulders and neck. God, she was tired; tired of running, tired of looking over her shoulder, and there was only one way she’d ever be truly free.

Glenn came hustling into his office and closed the door. "Okay, what’s up?"

"I saw a man out in the parking lot tonight," she said, jumping right into the middle of the subject. "He’s been stalking me for almost a year, and now he’s found me again. I have to leave."

Glenn’s face went dark red. "Point him out to me, and I’ll make damn sure he never bothers you again," he growled.

"You can’t protect me from him," she said gently. "I don’t think even around-the-clock guards could stop him. The only thing I can do is stay one step ahead of him."

"Have you been to the police?"

"Glenn, you know restraining orders aren’t worth the paper they’re written on," she chided. "If he’s caught violating it, then it’s a felony misdemeanor or something like that, I don’t know the right term, but a restraining order never stopped anyone from doing something he really wants to do."

He chewed on the reality of what she’d just said, scowling as he finally admitted she was right. "Damn, I hate to lose you. You’ve turned into a good waitress. Provided some entertainment around here, too. Got any idea where you’re going?"

Andie took a minute to get past the idea that she’d been providing entertainment, though she supposed he might have found a certain amusement in her threat to skewer some guy’s balls on a fork. "No, I’ll drive until I find somewhere that feels safe. I’ll shake him for a while, but he knows how to find people." She knew exactly where she was going, but it was better that Glenn stay in the dark.

He heaved himself out of his chair and went to the electronic safe behind his desk. Keeping his bulk between her and the readout he punched in the numbers; there was a whirring sound, then a click as the lock opened. "Here’s what I owe you," he said, counting out some cash from the day’s take. "Drive carefully, and God-speed." He flushed again, then leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "You’re a good woman, Andie. If you ever see your way clear to come back, there’s a job waiting for you."

Andie smiled and impulsively gave him a quick, affectionate hug, then blinked back tears. "I’ll remember that. You take care, too." She stopped suddenly, her gaze losing focus as she stared at him and through him. "You need to change your routine," she blurted. "Stop taking the cash by the night deposit on your way home."

"Well, damn it, when else am I supposed to take it?" he asked irritably. "The bank’s right on the way home and it isn’t as if I have a lot of time-"

"Make time. And use a different branch for the next week or so."

His mouth opened, then he pressed his lips together in a grim line. "Are you having one of them visions?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don’t have visions," she denied, her tone as irritated as his. "It’s common sense. You’ve been taking a chance going to the night deposit at the same branch every night, and you know it. Make better decisions, and you won’t get shot."

She’d actually had the thought that he’d get knocked on the head and have a concussion, but getting shot sounded a lot more dramatic and serious, so maybe he’d listen to her. He still looked obdurate, so she muttered, "Go ahead and be bullheaded then," and left his office before she started crying. She was really fond of the stubborn jackass, and she hated the idea of anything happening to him, but at the end of the day the decision was his, not hers.

She had enough big-time decisions to handle on her own, she thought as she trudged out to her Explorer. The other second-shift waitresses were leaving at the same time, so she wasn’t alone and she supposed that was as safe as she was going to be. She didn’t see him, but then she hadn’t expected to. He was gone. Just as she felt his presence, she also felt his absence. He didn’t know she’d seen him, and the cat had gone off to take a nap somewhere, confident the mouse would stay in its hole.