Dark Beach - By Lauren Ash Page 0,51
rickety beside table over to her, setting the tray down on it. It was a colorful assortment of mush. “Would you like to feed her?” he asked turning his attention to the mess. “What’s going on here?”
“Um … she wanted something. I don’t think I understand her very well.”
“It’s fine. That’s the usual, okay. Do you want to feed her?”
“Ah, no thanks.” Jenny shook her head.
“You sure?” he asked again, as if he already expected her answer.
“No. No, I think I’ll step out for a bit while you do that.”
“You can certainly stay.” He smiled.
“Yeah … uh. I’ll be back. I have something I need to do anyway, just a minute.” She slipped the key into her coat pocket.
It was more than a minute. Jenny watched from behind the waiting room blinds as the man leaned up against her car and attempted to light a cigarette.
“Oh, come on. What are you doing?” She focused on the boots. I know it’s him. What do I do? I’m stuck here.
She opened her purse, reassured by the gleam of Kurt’s revolver and suddenly very glad she’d taken it. She ran her fingers over it. It was cold, smooth; she didn’t have the slightest clue how to fire it. Lifting it out, she carefully stroked the trigger.
“Mamma, what’s that?”
“Nothing.” Jenny slipped the gun back in her purse. “Just sit, okay. Here, here’s a magazine with pretty flowers inside. See the pretty flowers.”
“Pretty pink,” said Kip.
“Yeah, pretty.” Jenny tipped the blind again. The man was gone.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the waiting room.
Jenny lifted Kip off the peach chair and slunk down into a corner, covering her daughter’s mouth with one hand. The heavy steps stopped by the waiting room door. Then they continued on.
“Did you have a good visit?” Marilynn called out, as Jenny hurried by.
“I did. Got to go, though.”
“Wait! I have to talk to you about something.”
Jenny paused by the front door. “Not now. I have to go.”
“It’ll be quick, I swear.”
“Quick.”
“It’s about the power of attorney.”
“Yeah.” Jenny’s eyes were fixed on the end of the long beige corridor.
“Rachael called and stated that she does not want Ron to have any contact with Gerry.”
“Yes, I know. He told me. It’s fine. Really, I have to go.”
“There’s also a letter here. It’s for you.”
The tall, dark figure appeared at the end of the hall again.
“I really must go now.” Jenny snatched the letter from Marilynn’s shaky grip, crammed it into her purse, and dashed out the door, pulling Kip behind her.
Jenny fumbled with the button on the key fob, pressing it over and over. “Come on. Come on!” It beeped. “In the car, hurry. I don’t have time to buckle you. Come on.”
She fumbled the key into the ignition and turned on the car. As she backed out, tires screeching, she could see the hooded man standing at the front of the retirement home. He followed, falling behind when Jenny put the pedal to the metal.
Now what? Now where do I go? He’ll follow us to the beach house. I can’t go back there. She racked her brain. Kurt? No. I can’t go there either. What if it’s him? I don’t know for sure. No … it’s not him. It couldn’t be him.
She stopped in front of the tackle shop. The lights were off.
Maybe it is him?
There were few cars on the strip as Jenny drove up and down, over and over. Eventually, she settled on a small diner close to the main beach access road.
“Come, we need to eat.”
It was quiet in the diner, and Jenny slid into a green leather booth and ordered up a small feast. They ate happily and sipped hot chocolates.
“Mmm,” said Kip.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jenny smiled, content for a moment.
Then curiosity crept up on her as she remembered the letter. She ferreted in her purse and pulled it out. It had been mailed the day before—specially over-nighted. As she ripped it open, a note tumbled out.
Dearest Jenny,
I know you are there, alone. I know that he left you there. You must leave. I must warn you. He will never stop, never. You see, it’s his house. It’s always been his house.
Rachael
EIGHT
“Aw, you didn’t. You didn’t. You took my gun? I knew I should have locked it up.”
Kurt slammed the drawer shut, but it immediately sprang back open. He rummaged through a few more, shoving this and that out of the way. Good thing there are no bullets in it. I can’t believe this! My gun—what the hell