The Hunter Page 0,4
you see," she added quickly. "He's-" Oh, how to explain Tom Locke? "He's-well, he's incredibly handsome, and by the end of this year he'll have lettered in three sports-"
"I get it."
"No, you don't," Jenny said, horrified. "He's not like that at all. Tom is wonderful. He's just-so wonderful that sometimes it takes a little keeping up with him. And we've been together forever, and I love him, and I have since second grade. Okay?" Anger gave her courage, and she advanced a step toward the guy. "He is absolutely the best boyfriend in the world, and anybody who says he isn't-"
Chapter 2
She stopped. The boy was holding out the box to her. Jenny hesitated, nonplussed.
"You can hold it if you want," he said gently.
"Okay," Jenny said, embarrassed, her vehemence fading. She took the glossy box gingerly between her palms-and forgot everything else. It was cool and just weighty enough to be intriguing. Something inside rattled slightly, mysteriously. There was a quality about it that Jenny couldn't describe, a sort of electric current that ran up her fingers as she held it.
"We're closing," the boy said briskly, with another of his arbitrary mood swings. "You gonna buy it?"
She was. She knew perfectly well anybody crazy enough to buy a box without looking inside it deserved whatever they got, but she didn't care. She wanted it, and she felt a strange reluctance to take the lid off and peek in. No matter what, this would make a great story to tell Tom and the others tonight. "The craziest thing happened to me today. ..."
"How much?" she asked.
He went to the counter and hit a key on an antique-looking brass cash register. "Call it twenty."
Jenny paid. She noticed the cash drawer was full of odd-looking money all jumbled together: square coins, coins with holes in the center, crumpled bills in pastel colors. The wrongness of that cut into her pleasure in the box a little, and she felt another chill, like spiders walking on gooseflesh.
When she looked up, the boy was smiling at her.
"Enjoy," he said, and then his heavy lashes drooped as if at a private joke.
From somewhere a clock chimed the little unfinished tune that meant half past some hour. Jenny glanced down at her watch and stiffened in horror.
Seven-thirty-it couldn't be! There was no way she could have been in this store for over an hour, but it was true.
"Thank you; I have to go," she gasped distractedly, heading for the door. "Uh-see you later."
It was just a politeness, not meant to be answered, but he did answer. He murmured what sounded like "at nine" but undoubtedly was "that's fine" or something like that.
When she looked back, he was standing half in shadow, with the stained glass of a lamp throwing blue and purple stripes on his hair. For just a second she caught something in his eyes-a hungry look. A look completely at odds with the indifferent manner he'd worn while speaking to her. Like-a starving tiger about to go hunting. It shocked Jenny so much that her "goodbye" froze in her throat.
Then it was gone. The boy in black reached over and turned the acid house music on.
Terrific soundproofing, Jenny thought as the door closed behind her and the music was cut off. She gave herself a mental shake, throwing off the lingering image of those blue eyes. Now if she ran all the way home, she might just have time to throw some Cheez Whiz in the microwave and shove a handful of CDs in the player. Oh, God, what a day!
That was when she noticed the tough guys.
They were waiting for her across the street, hidden in the blue-gray shadows of dusk. Jenny saw them coming and felt a jolt to her stomach. Swiftly and automatically she stepped backward, reaching behind her for the doorknob. Where was it? And why was she so stupid today? She should have asked the guy in black if she could use the phone; she should have called Tom-or Dee-Where was the knob?
They were close enough that she could see that the one in the flannel shirt had bad skin. The one with the bandanna was grinning in a very creepy way. They were both coming toward her and where was the freaking doorknob? All she could feel behind her was cool, painted concrete.
Where is it where is it -
Throw the box at them, she thought, suddenly calm and clear. Throw it and run. Maybe they'll stop to investigate