|
|
Lydia despised that seeing her favorite place in the world could make her hands sweat. She sat in her car, unable to exit. 3 Alarm wasn’t open yet. But for once, coffee wasn’t why she was there. She sat in the tiny parking lot, waiting for Penny Nicols to show up for her shift.
Penny knew something. Lydia wanted to know what it was and how she’d come about her information. Not for an instant did Mrs. Everett assume Penny had anything to do with the crimes. She suspected the girl had more of an innate investigative ability. “She noticed something no one else had. Like an older Nancy Drew or a female Shawn Spencer,” she thought.
Lydia didn’t know which. She didn’t care. She only wanted to understand and to glean what she could from the young woman’s point of view.
However, Lydia was frozen. She prayed and talked to herself and prayed some more but could not calm her heartbeat and steady her breathing.
She’d dealt with PTSD before, after her first major run-in with a villain. But as Hobo Joe kept reminding her, once one had post-traumatic stress, it was possible to tame but impossible to expel. Lydia tried to be patient with herself. She wasn’t certain Penny was even on shift. It was just a hunch and a chance. If her nerves didn’t let up, the entire trip to Main Street wouldn’t matter.
The opening lights of 3 Alarm flickered on, casting a golden glow on the black asphalt. It stretched to brush the edge of the center lawn. A shadow pierced the light beam as a figure loped along the sidewalk. Lydia’s hair bristled at the base of her neck. Until the hurrying shadow paused in front of another store’s light.
Penny Nicols stood outside, looking in at the diner. She pulled up the hood of her jacket, covering her brilliant red hair.
“Where was she coming from?” Lydia wondered. “Perhaps she walked from a nearby residence?”
It dawned on Lydia that she knew very little about Miss Nicols. Where was she living? What had brought her to Honey Pot? How long was she planning on staying? All of these questions usually made the top of Lydia’s list of inquiries. Instead, they all faded to the background as the biggest question of all loomed right outside Lydia’s grasp. How did Penny know there was going to be a second kidnapping? And how had she known to warn Lydia before the first one?
Lydia swallowed back a wave of guilt as she watched Miss Nicols crouch to tie her shoe. Penny's warning never made it into her conversations with Ethan. Even in the hospital and at the police station, Lydia didn’t bring it up. Had she not remembered until now? Or had part of her intentionally hidden that snippet of memory?
If Penny knew more than she was letting on, was it possible the girl knew the kidnapper? Could she tell Lydia where Serene Barritt was?
Penny readjusted her hoodie. Late autumn mornings were cold. Penny must have been chilly. Lydia didn’t take her eyes off of her when Penny drew closer to 3 Alarm. Her feet hit the concrete, Penny noticed the smart car. She took a hesitant step backward. Lydia locked eyes with the young barista, who flagged Lydia down and gestured toward the cafe.
Lydia nodded her response. For the first time since landing in the parking lot, Lydia was able to move. She exited the car and joined Penny inside the coffee shop.
***
TAMAS SLID A FRESH cup of coffee in front of Lydia. “I figured it would only be a question of time before you came to visit Penny. It seems everyone wants to talk to her.” He paused at the table and waited for Lydia to look him in the eye.
He winced when she lifted her head. The fabric burn on her throat hurt just to look at. Tamas swallowed, trying to shake away his unsettled feelings before Lydia noticed. He was glad to have his favorite customer back in the shop. Even if his worry overshadowed his joy.
Lydia put a hand over her injury. Her eyes glistened with the same concern Tamas had failed to disguise. Both parties ignored it.
Penny walked up behind Tamas. “Joe said I could take an hour or so to talk with Lydia,” she explained. “But I’ll come help if you need me.”
Tamas nodded stiffly and retreated to the front counter.
“Everyone has been so worried about you,” Penny said as she slid into her seat. “I know I have been.” Penny avoided Lydia’s inquisitive glances.
Lydia hadn’t yet touched her cup. “Who else has come by to talk to you?” she asked.
Penny twirled the string of her barista apron around her index finger. “The sheriff, the deputy, that writer lady.”
“Serene Barritt? The one who was taken yesterday?”
Penny squirmed in her seat. “Yes, her.”
“What did she want to know?”
“About some crime that happened a long time ago. I told her that I was new in town and hadn’t heard anything about a Petting Zoo criminal. I recommended she talk with Mr. Joe. He seems to know everything around here.”
“He certainly does, doesn’t he?” Lydia glanced at the steamy mug before her, as if she’d just noticed it’s presence. She reached for a packet of sugar and dumped it into the brew. Her hands had started to tremble. Though caffeine would only amplify the shaking, she hoped the hit of sugar might keep her balanced until she was done talking with Penny. “Why did Ethan, I mean the Sheriff, want to talk with you?”
“Other than that, I was the only witness to your abduction?”
Lydia hadn’t known that. Ethan’s lips were sealed about her case. His wife knew it was his attempt to protect her, but it wasn’t helping her process the attack. “Yes, other than that.”
Penny’s gaze brushed past Lydia and onto the front windows of the shop. Her eyes widened as she tracked something or someone outside. Lydia didn’t turn around to see what was so interesting. She was self-conscious about her injury and felt it every time someone looked at it. She felt them recoil in pity and anxiousness. It ate at her, making her feel like a victim all over again.
Hobo Joe approached Lydia before Penny’s attention returned. He bent his tall body down and hugged her. “I’m glad you’re jumping back on the horse,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”
Lydia smiled. “You too, Joe.”
The older man tracked Penny’s gaze. “Them boys have been looking for you, again,” he told his employee. “If they’re bothering you, let me know. I’ll get rid of them.”
Penny flinched. Without looking at Joe, she answered, “They’re harmless. I think.”
“Okay, but if anything changes,” Joe said. He patted Lydia’s shoulder and left the women to chat.
‘Who are they?” Lydia asked.
Penny’s large brown eyes met Lydia’s. The girl visibly tossed off the appearance of the window shoppers. “Just a couple of guys. I don’t really know them.”
Lydia hid her disbelief by swallowing her first sip of coffee. Penny was hiding something. But, Lydia wasn’t there to pump the girl for information about boys. She only wanted to know one thing. “How did you know to warn me?” she asked.
Penny pivoted in her seat. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
The lie hit the air between them like a single soap bubble. Hollow and transparent. Lydia wasn’t about to let it hang there. She reached out and popped it. “I think you do. You told me, not a little ominously, to be safe. Then not ten minutes later, I was duct-taped in a stranger’s van.”
Penny shuffled and reorganized the sweetener packets on the table. “That doesn’t mean I knew something was going to happen. It’s just what you say when someone is about to drive home.”
“Not the way you said it,” Lydia mumbled.
A purposeful strike on Penny’s honesty wasn’t going to get Lydia the results she desired. She didn't want the barista to think she was getting away with the half-truth, either.
“I’m sorry but...”
Lydia was going to object, ever so sweetly, to Penny’s avoidance. Except, Tamas turned on 3 Alarm’s TV.
Tamas and Joe hated TVs in restaurants. They’d both expressed as much to Lydia. That didn’t mean their customers agreed. Morning coffee buyers liked to spend their minutes in line, catching up with the weather forecasts. The sole screen stayed on the local news channel until lunch, then it was shut down for the day.
The sudden shift in noise level offset the conversational flow Lydia was trying to build with Penny. The girl took the momentary distraction for all it was worth and slid out of the booth.
“I’ll be back,” she promised. Lydia doubted it.
Penny had appeared so eager to talk, just minutes before. Something had made her clam up. Without worry of her scar putting Penny off, Lydia turned toward the front windows of 3 Alarm.
Two men stood on the town lawn. Far enough away that she couldn’t make out their faces, but they were definitely watching the cafe. Maybe they had made Penny stop talking.
Lydia kept an eye on them as she sipped her coffee. Behind her, the television crackled, and the sound of a news bulletin replaced the bantering reporters.
“In a sad turn of events,” the male reporter read. “The body of missing writer Serene Barritt was discovered, moments ago, by the Sheriff of Pottersville.”
Lydia spun away from the window at the mention of her husband. A small square in the corner of the news feed popped up with Serene Barritt’s photo. The same one that graced the jacket of her hardcover. Lydia’s vision blurred. She sputtered, regaining the breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding.
Tamas flagged Joe and Penny. They rounded the counter and watched the screen near Lydia’s table. “What in the world,” Tamas said.
Joe shushed him. “Ethan’s on screen.”
Centerstage, Lydia’s bedraggled husband set his jaw and stacked his shoulders as the news team assailed him with their cameras and questions. He slicked back his hair and answered the reporters without glancing at the videographer.
“Is it true, Sheriff Everett, that just last week your own wife was involved in a similar situation? How is it that she escaped, but Serene did not?” The onsite investigator asked.
“I’m not sure. But I know we’re doing all we can to track down Serene’s abductor,” Ethan replied. He took two steps toward his squad car before the lens was back on his face.
“So, you do believe the kidnappings are connected?”
He froze. His steel resolve reflected in his voice. “There’s been no confirmation of-”
“But it’s possible?”
“We’re awaiting more information from-”
“Do you think the killer will strike again?”
“I see no reason to panic. Once my team and I-”
“Any chance the assailant will come back to finish the job he started on your wife?”
For the first time, Ethan’s eyes locked with that of the viewer’s. Chills ricocheted up Lydia’s spine and settled on her skin. Ethan was looking directly at her. He avoided answering the news team, but his thoughts were plain to Lydia. He was terrified the van would circle back to Honey Pot, searching for his beloved wife.
The room pressurized with apprehension. Lydia’s ears popped. She slumped into the booth, allowing the vinyl to fully support her. Her chocolaty eyes teared. She softly shut them, as she struggled to form words or complete thoughts, as she tried to pray.
Joe shut off the TV. Tamas yanked his cell from his pocket and began scrolling for news. Lydia’s eyes fluttered open to see Penny Nicols casting worried glances down at her.
“He is coming back,” Penny whispered, mostly to herself. “But not for you.”
Lydia’s stomach lurched. What did Penny mean by that?