I walked up to the front desk.
“Was there a man waiting for me?” I asked Kelley. Her glasses slid down her nose as she typed.
She didn’t look up. “I think so. But I’m not sure.”
A small nod. “Did anyone ask for me?”
“Nope.”
I sighed. How strange. “If he comes back, can you please write down his name? I don’t want any patients’ complaints to go missing.”
She nodded.
Then I left.
Chapter 37
Dylan
I left the hospital parking garage looking over my shoulder a million times, like I always did. Most of my family acted like John Myers was dead or had given up on us. That’s also what the police had told us.
But I never believed that. A man like Myers was unpredictable. Even if he was on the run, his circumstances could change. He might then have a reason to come back. To seek revenge. To finish the job. Or God knew what else.
I pulled out into busy Boston traffic. The early morning sun sat low, flashing between buildings as glass and brick slid past my windows.
At the first traffic light, a black SUV idled behind me. Matte paint. Dark tint. No plates that I could see from this angle.
The light turned green, and traffic rolled forward. Cars thinned as I merged onto the highway. From there on out, it was a traffic-free ride to my grandma’s. Somewhere past the malls and large apartment complexes, the road opened up.
That’s when I noticed the same SUV was still behind me. Not too close, but not that far either.
I took my exit. Relief hit when I no longer saw the SUV in my rearview mirror.
By the time I reached Wellesley, everything looked so different from Boston. Old trees lined the streets. Big houses were tucked behind stone walls and perfect landscaping. Many of those mansions were worth several million.
At the highway exit, I slowed. My stomach dropped when the black SUV appeared from behind a truck and took the same exit I did. The damn thing was still behind me.
Alarm bells went off. No way someone had followed the same route all the way from the hospital by coincidence. Right?
The light turned green. But I hesitated. Horns blared behind me, angry and impatient, forcing my foot back onto the gas.
Usually it was a straight drive from here, but I took the next left into a mall parking lot, just to see what would happen.
The turn signal of my car clicked. Once. Twice. And I turned.
The SUV slowed, hesitated for a bit, then continued straight. I watched it disappear down the road, the dark shape shrinking in the distance.
Strange.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. It had been so many years since Myers had vanished. He never came for my grandma. Or Amanda.
Of course, we wanted him caught. Wanted him to face justice and rot in prison forever. The utter incompetence of the authorities in failing to find him was unbelievable. And, to this day, we were convinced the DA, Thomas Harlow, that prick, never truly pushed to find him, hoping Myers would finish the job and kill my grandma.
But maybe, in the end, they all were right, and Myers had died of some overdose somewhere.
The rest of the drive was peaceful. No SUV.
I slowed when I saw the large nursing home sign about fifteen minutes from my dad’s house: Senior Flower Gardens.
