3

Chryssie sat at the out-of-date dinette table. Trying to ignore the guilt pressing in, her finger traced along the cracks of the red aluminum table. There were so many cracks, it seemed as if it were red and gray instead of just red.

Stop thinking about last night, just focus on studying. She’d made a mistake in not contacting the police right away. They wouldn’t be happy that she’d waited so long to come forward.

But since she had, she might as well wait until after she took her exam. It wasn’t her fault she’d witnessed a murder. Unfortunately, her mind kept wandering back to that dark alley—and the terror of that gun pointed at her. It was hard to think about anything else.

Books were strewn on the aluminum table top, open and piled one upon the other. She stared down at the dictionary. She’d been looking up chrysalis, which turned out to be a permanent slate-gray discoloration of the skin as a result of a specific type of treatment. Who knew?

But her gaze had found her name.

Chrysalis…a pupa of a butterfly or a moth; a protecting covering; a sheltered state or stage of being or growth; usually enclosed in a cocoon or protective covering as it undergoes internal changes to become an adult—also known as metamorphosis.

A protective covering. No wonder she wasn’t a butterfly. Her mother hadn’t provided the protective covering she’d needed. Her grandmother had stepped up and done her best, but she’d died too early from cancer. Chryssie had chosen nursing as her career for that reason.

Chryssie’s grandmother died when Gabriella was a baby. Gabriella had gone into foster care. Chryssie had tried to get custody of her little sister, but the courts had said no. Too unstable. No way to provide for her. Too young. Chryssie had vowed then to leave her worm life behind and morph into a butterfly, so she could take care of Gabriella.

Internal changes to become an adult. As an adult, she should have called the police last night instead of being too afraid. Plain and simple, it was the right thing to do. She’d failed this step.

When she’d awakened, it had almost been noon. She needed to read her notes for the final exam. A very good reason not to go to the police station. She’d do it after she finished studying. Her hand reached around her back and touched the caterpillar tattoo that she’d shown Zack last night.

He’d called it a worm—a much better description of her life. What had possessed her to even show it to him or explain what it meant? And to Zack of all people. It was obvious he wasn’t into self-improvement. Chryssie closed the dictionary with a sigh.

Every time she shut her eyes, she was back there in that dark alley. Seeing that poor guy. Seeing that gun pointed at her. But every time she picked up the phone, she couldn’t hit 9-1-1. Tomorrow—she would do it tomorrow. In the grand scheme of things, it wouldn’t make any difference if she called the police today or tomorrow after her exams.

She had to pass that exam and graduate. Then she’d be able to get a nursing job, take Gabriella out of foster care and they’d be a family again.

Chryssie had two call backs for interviews after she passed her exam. One was for a doctor’s office and one was for the emergency room at one of the biggest hospitals in Cleveland. The doctor’s office offered stable hours while the emergency room job paid more money. She had to go with stability for Gabriella’s sake.

It was time for a break. She’d walk over to the bar, pick up her car, then back home to study for a few more hours. Time to morph back into Glitter. She slipped on the low-cut T-shirt with shiny baubles. Then came her jeans, tight but comfortable. Running shoes—her one concession to comfort. She moved to the bathroom mirror, took off her glasses, and put in her contacts. First came the outrageous eye shadow, complete with glitter. Then the bright red lipstick with more glitter. And finally to make the change complete, she tied her soft brown hair in a ponytail and pinned it up, then slipped on the jet black wig.

The metamorphosis from Chryssie to Glitter was complete.

She supposed a good friend might recognize her. But since she had none, it wasn’t a worry. Would Zack recognize her without all the glitter? Would he even be attracted to the real Chryssie? She rolled her eyes. Where had that thought come from?

Zack wasn’t a part of her life. Not now, not ever. She’d had fun with him that day he’d taken her out to lunch. More fun than she should have. Forget Zack. He isn’t the one. She’d had more experiences with that sort of guy than she wanted to admit. She wanted a respectable guy.

With a critical eye, she checked herself out in the mirror. Perfect.

Chryssie couldn’t explain why she put on a different persona when she worked at the bar. It wasn’t that she was hiding her identity. People knew her name—even if they called her Glitter most of the time. For now, she had two personalities—Glitter the bartender and Chryssie the student. If all went well, they would morph into Chryssie, the nurse.

She was as ready as she could be for her final. Chryssie walked through her two-room apartment. An exaggeration—it was a small living-room-kitchen combo and an even tinier bedroom. More like a closet. But it was affordable. And that’s what counted. As always, she picked up the picture of the adorable six-year-old girl, kissed it, and whispered, “Good-night, my sweet sister. Pleasant dreams tonight and always.”

Time for another walk. Chryssie shuddered at the thought of going into the alley to pick up her car.

The parking lot behind the bar was full, which was odd for a Sunday afternoon. Sundays were usually slow except when there was some sports event in town. Oh, wait. There was a play-off today. That explained the full parking lot.

She’d stop in and say hi, then go back home to do a little more studying and a lot more sleeping. Hoots and hollers from the customers assaulted her as soon as she opened the door. Apparently the team was having a good day. She wished she could say the same. Last night’s adventure and her lack of sleep were catching up with her. But she’d go to bed early so that she’d be ready for that exam tomorrow.

“Hey, Marquetta.”

“Glitter Girl. Glad you’re finally here.” Her last words were almost lost in the shouts of the crowd as she turned to the tap and started filling up frost mugs.

Chryssie grabbed two mugs. “Finally? I’m not scheduled to work. I just stopped in to say hi.” No reason to explain the real reason.

“Scheduled or not, I could really use the help. We’re getting slammed. I’m being run ragged here. Every time someone makes a basket, that group in the corner orders another round.” She rolled her eyes. “They better leave a really good tip if they know what’s good for them.”

“Well, let Marv help you. I really need to finish studying.”

Marquetta shook her head. “Can’t. He took his wife away for a romantic weekend. Won’t be back until late tonight or early tomorrow. And Susie refused to come in when I called her. Come on, help a girl out, will ya?”

A guy walked over and leaned on the bar. “Another round.”

“Yeah, yeah. Already getting them for you,” Marquetta said. “Be over in a minute.”

The guy pounded on the bar.

Chryssie didn’t want to leave Marquetta alone with this crowd. “I can help for a while, but just until things slow down.”

“You’re a sweetie! Thanks.” Marquetta nudged Chryssie as she filled up the last of the mugs. “Did you hear what happened in the alley last night?”

Chryssie’s stomach knotted. “What?”

“Some guy got shot—murdered.”

And she’d almost been the second victim. “Do the police know who did it?”

“Not that I know of. Probably just some punk drug dealer killing off the competition. I don’t know why the cops don’t clean up this neighborhood. After all, that’s their real job.”

Her words triggered Chryssie’s memory. The guy had said he’d go ahead and do the job. What job? Clearly he hadn’t been an innocent victim. Had it been a drug deal gone bad? The man with the gun hadn’t looked like a drug dealer—more like a respectable businessman. So what kind of job would the other guy have been doing for him? She closed her eyes, still trying to figure out where she’d seen the shooter before.

“Maybe the guy was in here last night.” Marquetta called as she walked away with a mug-laden tray.

“Could be.” Not last night, but another night. That would explain why he looked familiar.

“Did you have any kind of trouble?” Marquetta asked when she returned.

“Not really.” That wasn’t completely true, thinking back to the drunks Zack had rescued her from. But they didn’t have anything to do with the shooting.

Chryssie checked the patrons at the bar as Marquetta worked the room. A few minutes later, Marquetta was back. “I’m surprised the police don’t want to talk to you since you were working last night. At least check to see if the guy that got shot was in here last night. He was found just down at the end of the alley.”

“Don’t know why they would.” Chryssie’s stomach twisted. If that happened, the police wouldn’t be very sympathetic that she hadn’t come forward sooner. She would definitely go to the police station—tomorrow, the moment her exam was over.

Marquetta walked over to the kitchen window, called an order, and then looked back at Chryssie. “You never know. You might know something without knowing that you know it.”

“Uh, OK…whatever that means.” Chryssie knew plenty more than she wanted to know.

Marquetta’s phone jangled.

“It’s from my babysitter. What’s wrong?” She asked the person on the other end, then glanced at Chryssie. “Marqie fell down and hit his head and is bleeding. They’re on the way to the emergency room.” Her gaze fluttered around the room.

“Go, Marquetta. I’ll stay here. You go.”

“Are you sure? You gotta study. It wouldn’t be fair to leave you. You’re the one doing me a favor.”

“Your son needs you. I’m fine. You go.”

After a quick hug Marquetta ran out of the bar. Once the game was won, the crowd trickled out with only a few regulars staying. It gave Chryssie a moment to get off her throbbing feet. She sat on a bar stool.

“Well look who’s here. Glitter, I thought you weren’t working today.”

“My plans changed.” She smiled at Zack. “Stopped in for a minute and Marquetta was getting slammed, so I stopped to help. Then she had an emergency and had to leave.”

“Slammed?” He looked around the almost empty bar.

“The crowd left after the game. I think a bunch of them wanted to head downtown to celebrate.”

“A night with no business is a good thing. Didn’t see you at church today.”

“And you won’t.”

He grinned. “Don’t you believe in God?”

“Never really thought about it.” Not exactly true. Her grandmother had been a believer and talked about God often. But she’d died so what good had it done her to believe?

“Maybe you should.”

“Want something to drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

That was one of the things she liked about Zack. “I know that. I meant a soda.” She stood up. “On the house.”

“If you insist.”

“What about that hamburger I owe you?”

“Will you eat with me?”

“Can’t. Still working.”

“Then I’ll pass. We’ll have a hamburger together to celebrate your passing the exam.”

“If I pass.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist.”

“Can’t help it. I should be home studying.” After getting them both a soda, she handed a glass to him. She walked the length of the bar wiping it down.

“So, anything interesting happen since the last time I saw you?”

Her gaze met his. It was almost as if he knew something, but that was impossible. She shook her head, forcing her voice to sound blasé. “Not really. Spent the day studying. I stopped by here for a minute, but then Marquetta’s son got hurt, and I stayed so she could go to the hospital.”

“Is he OK?”

“Three stitches. The doctors assured her that it looks worse than it is. Poor little thing.”

“I heard there was a murder near here last night.”

“That’s what Marquetta said.” She wiped hard at a nonexistent spot on the bar.

“Know anything about it?”

“Why would I?” More than she ever wanted to know. “Did the police arrest someone?” If they had, she could forget about the whole thing. Then she wouldn’t have to get involved at all.

“Not that I know of, but it did make the news.”

“Of course. Every bad thing that happens in Cleveland makes the news. What about the good things? Like you driving drunks home so they don’t kill someone or themselves?”

“You don’t seem yourself today, Glitter. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just tired and worried. You know about the test tomorrow.”

He put his hand over hers. “If you have a problem, I’m your man. You know, I really do care about you, Chryssie. Even if you won’t go out on a date with me. Wouldn’t want to see anything bad happen to you.” His hand surrounding hers felt safe and warm.

She visualized throwing herself in his arms, telling him what had happened and him telling her not to worry, that he’d keep her safe. Yeah, maybe in a fairy tale. Not in real life. “No problems here. Just a little distracted about my final tomorrow.”

“Well, good. The next time I see you, it will be over, and I can start calling you Nurse Glitter.”

“The name’s Chryssie. As in chrysalis.”

“Oh, like a cocoon?” He winked. “Must be why you’ve got that sexy caterpillar tattoo on you.”

“Sexy? You told me it looked like a worm. But you’re right. Chrysalis is another name for a cocoon. You really are smarter than you look.”

“I tried telling you, looks can be deceiving.”

****

As Chryssie chased the last patron out of the bar, she stared out into the darkness. She didn’t want to walk down that alley to her car by herself. Where was Zack when she needed him? She should have confided in him. She should have told him what had happened. Or had him bring her car to the parking lot so she wouldn’t have to retrieve it. In the dark. Alone.

Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?

She paced through the darkened bar toward the back door trying to summon up the courage to walk out into the dark alley. Her heart pounded. She couldn’t do it. But that was ridiculous. She needed her car. She opened the back door and stepped out. The darkness pressed in, making it hard to breathe. Shuddering, she jumped back inside and slammed the door. There was no way she would go into that dark alley. Another walk home it would be.

Twenty minutes later, Chryssie turned onto her own street. Her apartment complex came into sight.

Two men stood at the door. Were they waiting for her? What a ridiculous thought. Of course they weren’t waiting for her. Why would they be? Still, they might be up to no good, a burglary or something else. It wasn’t unheard of in this neighborhood. She scoffed at her paranoia, but her stomach stayed knotted.

Chryssie stepped behind the big oak tree. She didn’t like the way they were looking down the street. As if searching for someone. Stop it. It’s just paranoia, they aren’t looking for me. The murderer couldn’t possibly know who she was or where she lived.

Neither man looked like the guy with the gun anyway. Even if the shooter had recognized her from the bar, he wouldn’t know where she lived. Marv certainly wouldn’t give out that information. So those two huge men couldn’t possibly be looking for her.

She cowered behind the tree, urging her feet to move forward, but they stayed rooted to the ground. So tired she could barely stand, she leaned against the tree and hoped they’d leave soon.

But they didn’t.

This was ridiculous. She needed to sleep before her final the next day. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward her apartment building.

The two men turned as they heard her footsteps. They looked at each other and then back at her. As if a single unit, both men moved down the steps in tandem.

Toward her.