babysitter. The killer is inside the house! ”
Viv laughed, but it felt forced. She remembered the man who had put his hand on her thigh when she was hitchhiking. How she’d realized that he could leave her in a ditch and no one would ever know.
“Okay, no jogging trail,” Viv said to Jenny. “I don’t jog anyway. I’ve never had anyone bother me at the motel, though.” Even Jamie Blaknik the pot dealer was nice, in his way.
“No one has bothered you yet ,” Jenny said in her practical, no-nonsense way. She looked Viv up and down. “I mean, you’re pretty. And you’re alone there at night. We single girls have to be careful. I don’t leave the nursing home at night, even to smoke. You should carry a knife.”
“I can’t carry a knife.”
“Sure you can. I don’t mean a big machete. I mean a small one, you know, for girls. I was thinking of getting one myself. And then if one of those old guys at my work gets creepy— whammo .” She mimed jabbing a knife into the countertop. Viv laughed again. The only stories Jenny told about being a night shift nurse in a retirement home were that it wasboring, and old people were weird and useless. Jenny didn’t seem to like very many people, but tonight Viv was in her good graces.
Jenny left for work, and Viv bustled around the apartment, getting her last few things together to go to the Sun Down. The TV was still on, and the segment on the news featured a beautiful brunette anchor with the words on screen in front of her: SAFETY TIPS FOR TEENS . “Always go out with a friend if it’s after dark,” she was saying from her beautifully lipsticked lips. “Use a buddy system. Never get into a stranger’s vehicle. Consider carrying a whistle or a flashlight.”
Viv turned the TV off and went to work.
----
• • •
At her desk at the Sun Down, wearing her blue vest, she pulled out her notebook in the deserted quiet. Using the meticulous penmanship learned since first grade in Illinois, her letters carefully swirled with feminine loops, she wrote: Cathy Caldwell. Left under underpass. Victoria Lee. Jogging trail. Boyfriend?
She tucked her pen into the corner of her mouth for a minute, then wrote: Buy a whistle? A flashlight? A knife?
Outside, she heard a car come into the parking lot. She’d expected this; Robert White, the fortyish man cheating with the woman named Helen, had checked in half an hour ago. Alone, with no luggage, as before.
Curious, she put her pen and notebook down and slipped out the office door, taking a quick trip to the AMENITIES room. Helen’s Thunderbird pulled in and parked next to Mr. White’s car, and as Viv watched through the crack in the AMENITIES doorway, Helen got out. She was wearing a one-piece wrap dress of jewel blue that set off her short, styled dark hair. This time Mr. White opened the door before she could knock. They smiled at each other and then he followed her into the room, closing the door behind him.
Viv was about to go back to the office, to her desk and her notebook, when she saw the second car.
A dark green sedan pulled into the back of the lot, behind Helen’sThunderbird. Viv waited, but no one got out. Now, with the door closing behind Helen and Mr. White, Viv saw the passenger window of the second car roll up as a camera lens ducked back into the car.
Viv waited, her gaze fixed on the sedan, but nothing else happened. The door stayed closed and the mystery car stayed parked at the back of the lot. Whoever was in the car was watching, waiting however long it took for Helen to come out again. The person in the car had a clear view of the AMENITIES door and would see her when she came out.
She couldn’t hide here all night, so she dug in her pocket and pulled out twenty cents. She put it in the candy machine, got a Snickers bar, and left the AMENITIES room, closing the door behind her. She held the candy bar in her outer hand and angled herself subtly just so—in theater they called it
Viv laughed, but it felt forced. She remembered the man who had put his hand on her thigh when she was hitchhiking. How she’d realized that he could leave her in a ditch and no one would ever know.
“Okay, no jogging trail,” Viv said to Jenny. “I don’t jog anyway. I’ve never had anyone bother me at the motel, though.” Even Jamie Blaknik the pot dealer was nice, in his way.
“No one has bothered you yet ,” Jenny said in her practical, no-nonsense way. She looked Viv up and down. “I mean, you’re pretty. And you’re alone there at night. We single girls have to be careful. I don’t leave the nursing home at night, even to smoke. You should carry a knife.”
“I can’t carry a knife.”
“Sure you can. I don’t mean a big machete. I mean a small one, you know, for girls. I was thinking of getting one myself. And then if one of those old guys at my work gets creepy— whammo .” She mimed jabbing a knife into the countertop. Viv laughed again. The only stories Jenny told about being a night shift nurse in a retirement home were that it wasboring, and old people were weird and useless. Jenny didn’t seem to like very many people, but tonight Viv was in her good graces.
Jenny left for work, and Viv bustled around the apartment, getting her last few things together to go to the Sun Down. The TV was still on, and the segment on the news featured a beautiful brunette anchor with the words on screen in front of her: SAFETY TIPS FOR TEENS . “Always go out with a friend if it’s after dark,” she was saying from her beautifully lipsticked lips. “Use a buddy system. Never get into a stranger’s vehicle. Consider carrying a whistle or a flashlight.”
Viv turned the TV off and went to work.
----
• • •
At her desk at the Sun Down, wearing her blue vest, she pulled out her notebook in the deserted quiet. Using the meticulous penmanship learned since first grade in Illinois, her letters carefully swirled with feminine loops, she wrote: Cathy Caldwell. Left under underpass. Victoria Lee. Jogging trail. Boyfriend?
She tucked her pen into the corner of her mouth for a minute, then wrote: Buy a whistle? A flashlight? A knife?
Outside, she heard a car come into the parking lot. She’d expected this; Robert White, the fortyish man cheating with the woman named Helen, had checked in half an hour ago. Alone, with no luggage, as before.
Curious, she put her pen and notebook down and slipped out the office door, taking a quick trip to the AMENITIES room. Helen’s Thunderbird pulled in and parked next to Mr. White’s car, and as Viv watched through the crack in the AMENITIES doorway, Helen got out. She was wearing a one-piece wrap dress of jewel blue that set off her short, styled dark hair. This time Mr. White opened the door before she could knock. They smiled at each other and then he followed her into the room, closing the door behind him.
Viv was about to go back to the office, to her desk and her notebook, when she saw the second car.
A dark green sedan pulled into the back of the lot, behind Helen’sThunderbird. Viv waited, but no one got out. Now, with the door closing behind Helen and Mr. White, Viv saw the passenger window of the second car roll up as a camera lens ducked back into the car.
Viv waited, her gaze fixed on the sedan, but nothing else happened. The door stayed closed and the mystery car stayed parked at the back of the lot. Whoever was in the car was watching, waiting however long it took for Helen to come out again. The person in the car had a clear view of the AMENITIES door and would see her when she came out.
She couldn’t hide here all night, so she dug in her pocket and pulled out twenty cents. She put it in the candy machine, got a Snickers bar, and left the AMENITIES room, closing the door behind her. She held the candy bar in her outer hand and angled herself subtly just so—in theater they called it
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