Ghost Town Page 0,94

determined to ignore her--she wasn't sure. She kept a good distance between them, careful not to look too creepy and stalkery, but it couldn't be helped. If she let him out of sight . . .

He turned the corner up ahead, and when she hurried to catch up, she saw him sprinting, putting a lot of distance between them, fast. No, no, no! If she lost him now, she might never find him again. It was too terrifying, not only for her, but for him. He just didn't know it yet.

She was passing an alley, sure he was still up ahead, when Shane grabbed her and slammed her hard up against the side of a building. She hadn't realized in a long time just how big Shane was, or how strong. Or how he usually didn't show it, unless he wanted to. Like now. There was a fire in his eyes, and an angry, stubborn set to his jaw. Shane in fighting mode.

He pinned her in place for a long moment, as if he were trying to decide what to do.

"Enough," he said then, and let go. "Look, I don't want to hurt you, but you need to stop following me. It's creepy and weird. Walk away, or next time I'm not going to be so nice about it."

"You wouldn't hurt me," Claire said. "I know you wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, don't count on it. I don't like hitting girls, but it doesn't mean I won't hit back if you start the fight. Ask Monica." He frowned then, and she saw real anger in his eyes. "Monica. Did she set this up? What was it, some kind of roofie thing; she took pictures? She's going to Facebook the hell out of it? Blackmail me?"

"No. I don't have anything to do with Monica." "Bullshit," Shane said bluntly. "Stop following me. I mean it. And quit crying; it's not going to work."

He walked out into the sunlight and kept going. She didn't know what to do. She knew he meant it; she was acting weird and crazy and dangerous, and in Morganville, nobody could afford to ignore that. So he'd probably do something if she followed him. Maybe even get her arrested.

She didn't care, but there had to be some other way. Something. She couldn't just let him go.

A woman passed by on the street, looking confused and checking the addresses of buildings. Probably trying to find a store that wasn't there anymore. Claire waited until Shane was out of sight around the corner, and then walked up to the stranger. "Hello," she said, trying desperately hard to sound polite and helpful, and not as deeply freaked-out as she felt. The woman gave her a distracted smile. She had on a bracelet, so she was a Morganville native, which was a relief. "Um, are you looking for something?"

"Oh, it's so stupid. I think I got turned around," the woman said. "Can't understand how; I've been working here for years--Grant's Dry Cleaner's. I could have sworn it was . . . right here. . . ."

"Oh, I think it moved," Claire said. "Isn't it one block over now?"

"Is it?" The woman frowned, and Claire saw fear and confusion in her eyes. She wished she could help her, but she didn't know how, really. "Oh, that must be it. I can't imagine why I . . . Guess I'm losing my mind. Isn't that odd?"

We all are, Claire thought, but she said, "I can't remember anything before I have coffee," and smiled. The woman looked a little reassured. "Um, maybe you can help me? I was looking for Frank Collins's house; I think it's around here somewhere?"

"Oh, Mr. Collins." The woman didn't look as if she were very fond of him, but she nodded. "Yeah, he and his family live two blocks over, then one block to the left. It's on Helicon Drive. Big two-story house."

"Thanks," Claire said sincerely. "I hope you get to work okay."

"Oh, I will. Maybe I'll just stop for coffee first, though."

Claire gave her a little wave and took off running. The lady called after her, "Dear, you're going the wrong way!"

"Shortcut!" Claire yelled back.

Now that she knew where the house should be, she cut along a side road and through a couple of alleys--dangerous, but necessary if she wanted to avoid looking like she was following Shane again. She ran hard, and came out on the right road, and a block farther over, just as he came walking from the other