“Oh, I don’t know.” Shaking her head, she said, “But thanks.”
“I tell you what,” he said. “Come on over to my table and sit for a while. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. You look like you could use some time to recover and sort things out.”
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
But the man didn’t seem quite so creepy, now that he’d spoken to her. He still had very intense eyes and a hard face. Nothing about him, however, suggested that he might intend to do her harm.
If he wanted to attack me, she thought, he could’ve done it when I was in the john.
“I guess I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee,” she said.
“Good.”
She followed him out of the alcove. With a glance toward the windows, she saw that Toby’s car was no longer at the curb. She quickly scanned the restaurant. The bikers had left, but the crazy woman and the college kids remained at their tables. A gawky-looking man in glasses was leaving the pickup counter with a tray in his hands.
No sign of Toby.
“That’s my table over there,” said the gray-haired man, nodding toward it.
“I know,” Sherry said.
“I know you know,” he said. “I’ll get the coffee. You can go on and have a seat. I’ll be right over.”
“Okay.”
As he headed for the counter, Sherry walked to his table. His old coffee cup was still there, along with a few wadded napkins. The other side of the table was clear. She sat down, turned to the window and peered out.
Turning her head from side to side, she looked again for Toby’s car.
The entire length of the block, nothing was parked at the curb.
He seemed to be gone, all right.
But Sherry didn’t like it.
Better, by far, to be able to look out the window and see his car, see him waiting behind its wheel…and know where he is.
Chapter Thirteen
The man came to the table carrying a tray. On it were two large styrofoam cups of coffee, a couple of small plastic tubs containing creamer, several paper packets of sugar and sugar substitutes, two red plastic stirrers and some napkins. He set down the tray in front of Sherry.
“Help yourself,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He sat down across from her, reached out and took one of the coffees. “They’ve got good coffee here. Good food, too.”
“Yeah.”
Though he didn’t quite smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t?”
“Not from me you don’t. You’ve been looking at me like I’m Charlie Manson.”
Was it that obvious?
Blushing, she said, “Well, the way you were staring at me…You made me nervous.”
This time, he laughed. “I make a lot of people nervous.” He took a creamer off the tray, peeled back its top and dumped it into his coffee. “I don’t mean to,” he said. “But I like to keep my eyes open. You never know what you’re going to see.”
Keeping her blouse shut with her left hand, she reached out with her right and lifted her coffee off the tray.
“My name’s Jim, by the way.”
“I’m Sherry.”
“Sherry. As in ‘Sherry Baby?’”
“That’s it.”
“Named after the song?”
She nodded. “My parents loved it.”
“Great song. The Four Seasons. They had a lot of great songs. Before your time.”
“I’ve got their CDs.”
Jim tore a packet of sugar and dumped it into his coffee. “I’ve got ’em on vinyl. That’s ’cause I’m an old fart.” He grinned and crinkled his eyes.
Sherry huffed out a laugh. “How old’s that?” she asked.
“Fifty-two.”
“That is old.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”
He laughed. “I should be. You’re right about that.” He twirled a stirrer in his coffee. Still half smiling, he looked into Sherry’s eyes. “You want to talk about your situation?”
“I don’t know.” She took a drink of coffee. It was hot and bitter. “I thought you said they had good coffee here.”
“You’ve gotta doctor it up.”
“Guess so.” She took a creamer off the tray.
As she peeled away its top, Jim said, “I saw the two of you in here earlier.”
“I know,” Sherry said.
“I know you know.”
She poured the creamer into her coffee. “He was helping me look for someone. That’s what I thought, anyway.” She stirred, and the coffee changed color from nearly black to tan. “But then it turned out to be a trick. After we left here, he started getting funny with me.”
“Put moves on you?”
“Yeah. Well, first he hit me a couple of times. And he tore my earring off.” She turned her head