Moonshadows by Mary Ann Artrip Page A

protector, of course.”
    “We’ll see.”
    “Goodnight. Sleep well.”
    “You, too.”
    Janet stood for a second in the doorway and watched Stephen’s retreating back. He walked with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, his body straining slightly forward.
    She watched as he crossed the courtyard and disappeared into the darkness of his apartment.
     
    It was after six the following Monday before Janet was able to leave the library. Hilda chose the same evening to stay over and work on the new coding system. They left the building together. The street was quiet in the early darkness and still damp from a light shower. Somewhere in the distance a door slammed and set a dog to barking. Neither woman spoke as they hurried down the sidewalk and stepped onto the street. Hilda’s head was crammed down into her hunched shoulders and she didn’t see the dark hulk of a car as it swung from behind the office building and sped toward them.
    Janet felt the car brush against her coat. Just before she jumped clear, she screamed, “Hilda, look out!”
    Hilda raised her head, her eyes wide in astonishment. The car struck with a terrible thud, tossing her into the air and flipping her a couple times before she hit the bricked alleyway. Then she lay still. The car gathered speed, roared away and disappeared into the black night.
    Kneeling beside the crumpled body, Janet groped for her hand. “Hilda, are you okay?” She probed the inside of Hilda’s wrist and couldn’t find a pulse. She snatched out her cell phone and jabbed in 911.
    Within minutes the street was filled with vehicles blaring garbled messages from their radios. Hilda’s body was placed on a stretcher, pushed into the back of an ambulance, and rushed away. Janet watched it all through dazed eyes.
    “Ma’am,” a voice said. Janet felt a touch on her arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
    Janet shook her head. “What?”
    “Are you okay? Maybe I better take you along to the hospital too. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to be checked out.”
    “No, thank you, I’m fine—just shaken up a bit. May I go home now?”
    “Of course. Are you sure there’s nothing else you remember about the car?”
    She shook her head. “There’s nothing to remember. It happened so quickly.”
    The man nodded. “Would you like someone to drive you?”
    Janet shook her head again and walked away.
    “I have your name and address,” he called after her. “Someone will be in touch with you tomorrow.”
    Janet’s trembling hands clutched the steering wheel as she drove home. Her mind reeled as it replayed the accident. Accident ? A car with no lights on speeding down a skinny alleyway. Had it been an accident? Of course it had—no other explanation made any sense.
    Inside the walls of her apartment, Janet felt better. Safer. She needed to call Miss Austin to let her know what had happened. She dialed the number but there was no answer. Janet was desperate to talk to someone, to hear a familiar voice. She punched in another number. Chelsea answered right away.
    “It’s me.”
    “Hi.”
    “Are you busy—I mean, right now?”
    “Why, what’s wrong?”
    “There’s been an accident, Chels. Hilda’s been hurt.”
    “An accident? What kind of accident? Are you okay?”
    “Just shaken up, but I don’t know about Hilda. The car was going awfully fast.”
    “Car? What car? Don’t move. I’m on my way.”
    The line clicked.
    Fighting to hold back tears, Janet replaced the receiver. Just as the phone touched the cradle and cleared the line, the ringer pierced the air. She snatched her hand away, unnerved at the unexpected. Then she steadied herself and answered.
    There was only silence on the line. She could hear breathing, controlled and steady, but clearly audible.
    “Who’s there?” she demanded.
    There was a faint chuckle: “Riddle me rude, riddle me gallant. Who’s the fool without wisdom or talent?”
    Then the line hummed.
    Janet’s mind tumbled—riddles at a time