you won’t tell anybody about the…irregularities in our papers?”
“Who’s interested in irregularities?” Wanda said. “Whole world’s falling apart around us. We got plenty to think about besides you. But you try to leave, I’ll find you. The heck with old Ray Strickland. I’ll find you and drag you back by the hair on your head. I can’t lose you now. You’re the best manager a pie shop could hope for.”
“We all promise.” Tracy looked around. “Right?”
“Right,” they said in unison.
“Okay, it’s time to eat,” Tracy said. “And we’ve got pie in the refrigerator when the salads are gone. And the rolls were hot once upon a time, so just pretend, okay?”
Dana rose. Tracy wondered if she would make an excuse to leave, and if tomorrow morning Herb’s house would be empty again. But instead she moved toward the table with the others.
“I haven’t had friends in a long time,” she said.
Wanda put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, you got some now. Take advantage of us as long as you can, okay?”
“I might need some help remembering how.”
Alice slipped her arm around Dana’s waist. “These women? They saved my life.”
For the first time Dana looked close to tears. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Tracy did, too. She hoped that the stranger named Ray Strickland stayed far, far away. Because despite all their brave words, if he didn’t, she wasn’t sure what five women and two preteen girls would be able to do about it.
Wanda was the last to leave. She fussed over the pie pans, scrubbing both until even the most advanced laboratory couldn’t have proved pie had ever resided there. Then, when everyone but Tracy had left, Wanda went to the living room window and watched the women disappearing toward their respective houses.
“So, what do you think?”
Tracy was storing leftover salads in her refrigerator. She spoke from the depths, so her voice sounded hollow.
“I think if she’s still here in the morning, she’ll stay. But after what she’s been through, it’s going to be hard to trust us completely.”
Wanda was having problems putting the whole scenario together. Being a cop’s wife, she knew about stalkers. How hard they were to escape from. How volatile their emotions. How unlikely they were to think about consequences. All a stalker wanted was his prey. And even celebrities, with all the money in the world for security, sometimes died at their hands.
But something was bothering her. Something was gnawing a hole in all the explanations and promises. She just wasn’t sure what it was.
The refrigerator door slammed. Then Tracy came into the living room. “What do you think?” she asked Wanda.
“I don’t know. I just have this itchy feeling in my head, like something’s scratching to get out and I can’t get in there to set it free.”
“That’s colorful.” Tracy flopped down on the sofa. “You know Dana better than anybody else. Maybe something she said before? Something you know about her that’s not matching up?”
“Nothing like that.”
“Do you think she killed Ray Strickland?”
Wanda wondered. Dana had been adamant. Her denial had been emotional, although she’d been careful to hide her emotions the rest of the night. But Wanda didn’t think that was what was itching at her.
“Not my job to find her guilty of murder,” Wanda said. “That would be up to a jury.”
“Maybe if she’d told us the story, I’d be worried about her spin, but the newspaper spelled out the facts. Ray Strickland was bad through and through.”
“And if she did kill him, why would she run? Nobody’s found a body. She could have gone about her business, knowing she was free.”
“Works for me,” Tracy said. “So let’s just say she didn’t kill him, and the guy really is out there trying to find her…”
Wanda slapped the window ledge. “That’s what’s bothering me.”
“Glad to be of help. What did I say?”
“A guy trying to find her. What if Ray Strickland’s not working alone? What if he’s hired people to look for her?”
“And how would he pay for that?”
“You said he had plenty of money.”
“Well, that’s what the paper said, but she’s been running a long time. And he hasn’t exactly been earning more, at least not so anyone knows.”
Wanda gave a snort of disbelief. “A guy like that could change his identity in a heartbeat. He probably already had a closetful of aliases. He could be living out in the open under another name in another state, still pulling off jobs with his brothers, and spending his free time