right. Something startled me for a moment.”
Mrs. Oliver put her hands gently on her daughter’s shoulders. Frank Oliver reached for the doorknob.
“If somebody’s bothering you - ” he began.
“No, Daddy, don’t go out there!!” Karyn cried. Her father looked at her sharply, and she went on in a quieter tone. “Please, Daddy. For me.”
Reluctantly he drew his hand back.
“Is the back door locked?” Karyn asked. “And the windows?”
“Karyn,” her father said, “if something’s happened, I want to know about it.”
“Frank.” Mrs. Oliver’s tone caught his attention. “It won’t do any harm to make sure the place is locked up. And it will make Karyn feel better.”
Frank Oliver looked from his wife to his daughter. “Well, sure. All right.”
“Could we do it now?” Karyn said. “Right away?”
Mr. and Mrs. Oliver exchanged a look, then began checking the windows. Karyn hurried through the house and tried the back door. She was relieved to find it locked. After making sure the kitchen windows were secure, she relaxed a little. She knew her mother and father thought they were humoring a somewhat neurotic daughter, but that was all right. Better than taking a chance with the thing that was out there somewhere in the night. The beast was taunting her, Karyn felt. Letting her know it could kill her at almost any time it chose. Well, maybe it would pass up one opportunity too many.
She drew a deep breath and walked back into the living room to join her parents.
“Everything’s locked up tight,” Mrs. Oliver said.
“And double-checked,” Frank Oliver added.
Karyn hugged her mother, then went over and took hold of her father’s hands, “Thank you both,” she said, feeling the depth of her love for these people. “You won’t have to worry about this after tonight. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Leaving?” said her mother. “I’d hoped you could stay longer. A week or so, at least.”
“I wish I could,” Karyn said, “but there’s something I have to settle once and for all before I can ever stay anywhere comfortably again.”
She waited. Both of her parents wanted very badly to ask her questions. It showed plainly in their faces. Where was she going? Why? For how long? But, God bless them, they held their questions inside.
“I promise I’ll tell you all about it,” she said, “when I come back.”
I’ll tell you something, anyway, she thought. Something you can believe.
When I come back.
If I come back.
It was a long and sleepless night, but in the morning she was still alive.
Chapter 17
A FRESH BREEZE flowed in off the Gulf of California, bringing relief to the damp heat of the Mazatlan summer. North of the city, where the tropical forest pushed close to the shoreline, the Palacio del Mar Hotel occupied a half-moon of beach.
On the stretch of white sand in front of the hotel Chris Halloran lay on a beach blanket. He was propped on his elbows, eyes shaded by a tattered straw hat, as he watched a pretty, auburn-haired girl play in the light surf.
The Palacio was generally favored by an older, quieter clientele than that favoring the new high-rise resorts which had gone up in the city. Chris liked the older hotel because it felt like Mexico.
The pastel stucco of the main beach area was not much different from Miami. Beach or Waikiki. At the Palacio you could hear Spanish spoken by the fishermen who came down from the village of Camaron, and you could smell the heady aroma of chiles from the kitchen where the hotel employees ate.
Two of the employees walked by on the path bordering the stretch of beach where Chris lay. Roberto, a handsome lad of seventeen, carried a tray of iced tea for a couple from Indianapolis who sat up the beach protecting their sunburns under one of the hotel’s umbrellas. Dancing along at Roberto’s side was Blanca, saucy and pert in her maid’s uniform, her arms loaded with fresh towels for the cabanas. The eyes of the boy and girl
Mrs. Oliver put her hands gently on her daughter’s shoulders. Frank Oliver reached for the doorknob.
“If somebody’s bothering you - ” he began.
“No, Daddy, don’t go out there!!” Karyn cried. Her father looked at her sharply, and she went on in a quieter tone. “Please, Daddy. For me.”
Reluctantly he drew his hand back.
“Is the back door locked?” Karyn asked. “And the windows?”
“Karyn,” her father said, “if something’s happened, I want to know about it.”
“Frank.” Mrs. Oliver’s tone caught his attention. “It won’t do any harm to make sure the place is locked up. And it will make Karyn feel better.”
Frank Oliver looked from his wife to his daughter. “Well, sure. All right.”
“Could we do it now?” Karyn said. “Right away?”
Mr. and Mrs. Oliver exchanged a look, then began checking the windows. Karyn hurried through the house and tried the back door. She was relieved to find it locked. After making sure the kitchen windows were secure, she relaxed a little. She knew her mother and father thought they were humoring a somewhat neurotic daughter, but that was all right. Better than taking a chance with the thing that was out there somewhere in the night. The beast was taunting her, Karyn felt. Letting her know it could kill her at almost any time it chose. Well, maybe it would pass up one opportunity too many.
She drew a deep breath and walked back into the living room to join her parents.
“Everything’s locked up tight,” Mrs. Oliver said.
“And double-checked,” Frank Oliver added.
Karyn hugged her mother, then went over and took hold of her father’s hands, “Thank you both,” she said, feeling the depth of her love for these people. “You won’t have to worry about this after tonight. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“Leaving?” said her mother. “I’d hoped you could stay longer. A week or so, at least.”
“I wish I could,” Karyn said, “but there’s something I have to settle once and for all before I can ever stay anywhere comfortably again.”
She waited. Both of her parents wanted very badly to ask her questions. It showed plainly in their faces. Where was she going? Why? For how long? But, God bless them, they held their questions inside.
“I promise I’ll tell you all about it,” she said, “when I come back.”
I’ll tell you something, anyway, she thought. Something you can believe.
When I come back.
If I come back.
It was a long and sleepless night, but in the morning she was still alive.
Chapter 17
A FRESH BREEZE flowed in off the Gulf of California, bringing relief to the damp heat of the Mazatlan summer. North of the city, where the tropical forest pushed close to the shoreline, the Palacio del Mar Hotel occupied a half-moon of beach.
On the stretch of white sand in front of the hotel Chris Halloran lay on a beach blanket. He was propped on his elbows, eyes shaded by a tattered straw hat, as he watched a pretty, auburn-haired girl play in the light surf.
The Palacio was generally favored by an older, quieter clientele than that favoring the new high-rise resorts which had gone up in the city. Chris liked the older hotel because it felt like Mexico.
The pastel stucco of the main beach area was not much different from Miami. Beach or Waikiki. At the Palacio you could hear Spanish spoken by the fishermen who came down from the village of Camaron, and you could smell the heady aroma of chiles from the kitchen where the hotel employees ate.
Two of the employees walked by on the path bordering the stretch of beach where Chris lay. Roberto, a handsome lad of seventeen, carried a tray of iced tea for a couple from Indianapolis who sat up the beach protecting their sunburns under one of the hotel’s umbrellas. Dancing along at Roberto’s side was Blanca, saucy and pert in her maid’s uniform, her arms loaded with fresh towels for the cabanas. The eyes of the boy and girl
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