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Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Maybe she’d stop at Harry’s for coffee and toast…and a little eavesdropping. She might pick up a nugget or two. That was, if the people gathering there wouldn’t be too bothered by a stranger in their midst.
Which was a fifty-fifty chance at best, but one she couldn’t pass up.
****
He ran his eyes over her in an unhurried fashion, taking in every inch as she entered the diner. She couldn’t be more than five-four, her trim figure looking smart in navy slacks and a blue shirt. Her thick, dark golden hair swung easily across her shoulders, tempting his touch.
She was so much older than he preferred, but she still had a fresh look that appealed to him. Oh, yes. He would enjoy it when he finally had his time with her.
He wondered how she responded to pain these days. He’d never realized, until the first time, how creating it could be such an intoxicating aphrodisiac. One that made his dick swell to enormous size. Oh, how he loved it. He could hardly wait to have to his next victim.
A chance snippet of conversation this morning had planted the seed for who that would be. Now, he just had to scope her out and make his plans.
He watched Carrie choose a counter stool rather than a booth, putting herself right out there for people to see. Guts. She’d be a fighter. God, he could hardly wait.
He’d have her. And then it would be done, his need satisfied, and he could fade back into the woodwork.
****
Dana could feel eyes boring holes into her back as she hitched herself onto the counter stool. Conversation had dropped a decibel or two when she walked in. Not enough to make her center stage. Just enough to let her know they’d seen her and she wasn’t winning any popularity contests.
She was certain John Garrett had passed the word about her. And that Jane Milburn had huddled with her friends about it. Yup. She was certain everyone in High Ridge knew by now she was the bitch who was going to dig into something they’d spent twenty-five years covering up and trying to forget.
The air was redolent with the aroma of bacon and eggs, pancakes, and strong coffee. Even the faint scent of horseflesh, probably from the ranchers in town for business and breakfast after the morning chores at the ranch.
“Coffee?”
Dana looked up, startled at the woman standing in front of her holding a coffee carafe. The look on her face would have rivaled Cole’s for hostility.
“Yes, please. And some toast if I could.”
The woman dragged a mug out from beneath the counter and filled it. “White or rye.”
“Rye. Thank you.”
“You ought to eat a good breakfast,” the woman told her. “Give you energy when you get on the road.”
“Thanks, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Pity. Oh, well. I’ll get that toast.” She put the carafe back on the warmer and pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. In a few minutes, she was back, slamming the plate on the counter.
So much for small town hospitality.
Then out of nowhere, Dana felt the thrust of evil blanketing her like a cloak. Threatening to suffocate her. Choking her. Her coffee threatened to surge back up in her throat. She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it, hoping to control the convulsive nausea. As casually as she could, toast in hand, she swiveled on the stool and let her eyes roam over the customers.
Everyone was drinking their coffee, eating their breakfast, chatting with their neighbors. No one seemed to be paying any particular attention to her. No one even looked familiar. Of course, after all these years, people changed physically, so whoever she sensed the feeling from could be anyone.
But she knew he was here, just the same. He was still in his hunting ground. In High Ridge, right here in Harry’s Diner.
Stalking her.
He’d lost her all those years ago. Now, he was going to finish the job. Last night had just been a prelude. She felt that inevitable truth straight to the core of her body. But if she said it out loud, no one would believe her.
“I see you’re still here.”
Dana turned her head to see John Garrett sliding onto the stool next to her. “I am. Despite the fact that I’m turning into the town’s Typhoid Mary.”
