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She had trouble believing that he would go so far as to murder an innocent woman. The idea was beyond far-fetched. Surely he wouldn’t kill someone else just to terrorize her. No no no. That didn’t make any sense.
It’s not about you. That woman, Sheree Cantnor, is the one who suffered. Don’t turn this around.
Still, Jessica’s skin crawled and she felt unseen eyes upon her, as if he were watching her. She double-checked the locks and latches, making certain any possible way into the cabin was secure. She adjusted the shades and curtains, blocking out the chance that anyone could see into the small rooms.
You can’t keep running. You can’t go on hiding. You have to go to the police.
And tell them what? They’ll only think you’re crazy. Even you doubt your own sanity at times. They will not keep you safe. No one can.
Disgusted, she flopped back onto the poor excuse of a couch.
Somehow, someway, the madness had to stop.
This place is no-damn-where.
Calypso Pope drove through the frigid streets of Grizzly Falls and wished she’d never taken the detour off the freeway. On her way to Missoula, her coffee had kicked in and not only was she a little hyped up on caffeine, her bladder was stretched to its fullest, which was such a pain. She drove past the brick courthouse and noted that the buildings along the waterfront were at least a hundred years old and the parking spaces weren’t only narrow, but nearly nonexistent. It seemed everyone in the hick town must be out for the night.
“Come on, come on, come on!” she muttered, shutting off the radio in irritation as the song she’d been listening to faded out into a cluster of static. She considered heading back to the main artery into town when she spied a neon sign for a restaurant called, oh so quaintly, Wild Will’s. “Ugh.”
She saw a parking spot on the street. Unfortunately, so did the driver of a huge Hummer or whatever they were called, some long-ass rig that hung out into the street and nearly swiped the cars on either side of him.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath, circling the block to come upon a street that led to the edge of the river, an alley almost, and two blocks down found an area under a bridge that was posted NO PARKING.
Oh, hell. Who cares? She’d just run into the damn restaurant, use the bathroom, and get something to go, if that. Maybe another coffee.
She nearly slipped getting out of her Mercedes and had to catch herself. Swearing silently, she tucked her purse under her arm, remotely locked the car, and hurried carefully along the dimly lit alley to Wild Will’s.
Once inside, she nearly peed herself when she came face-to-face with a huge grizzly bear, standing upright, its long teeth pulled back in a snarl, its glass eyes glittering angrily. It was stuffed and dressed in a ridiculous Cupid outfit complete with glittery wings and a quiver filled with arrows that had red hearts rather than feathers stuck into the shafts. Worse yet, the huge creature was swaddled in a pink diaper and a bow had been propped into one clawed paw.
Whose dim idea was that? “Your bathroom?” she asked a tall girl with a ponytail and a sour expression who was standing at the hostess station.
“It’s just for customers.”
“I plan on being one. And, if you don’t want me to pee all over your floor in front of that ridiculous creature”—Calypso jabbed a long finger at the bear— “you’ll point me in the direction.” At that moment, she saw the sign with the little cut-out woman in the dress indicating the women’s room. She didn’t bother explaining further and barreled down the short hallway, with the pissy-faced hostess calling after her.
“Hey! Wait!”
Calypso ignored her. Please don’t let it be occupied, she thought, pushing against the broad panels. She breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung inward and, just in time, she dashed into one of the two empty stalls. “Thank you, God,” she whispered as she yanked down her jeans and thong in one swift movement, then relieved herself.
She almost sighed in ecstasy as the sensation was as close to orgasmic as she’d ever want to feel in a public restroom.
Once she’d cleaned up and regained some of her dignity, she walked back into the foyer where the damn bear seemed to be leering at her.
“As I said before, I’m a customer, and now I’d like dinner,” she said with a haughty lift of her chin.
“Right this way.” The hostess led her to a table in a cavernous room where stuffed animals abounded. A moose head and a stalking puma graced one wall; antelope and deer faces glared down at her from another. A porcupine was balanced on a shelf to her right, while wagon wheel chandeliers and paddle fans hung from the wide expanse of ceiling.
“This place is beyond rustic and weird as hell,” she observed, sliding into a booth. She was relieved to see that no family with a raft of little children was seated anywhere near her. “I mean, seriously, dead, dusty stuffed animals don’t exactly spark one’s appetite.”
“People seem to like them,” the hostess said as she slid a menu onto the table.
“No one from PETA, I bet.”
The girl looked lost. “From where?”
“Never mind.”
“Would you like to hear the specials?”
