Night Terrors (16 page)

“Why don’t you get out of there, Tara? Come up here for a while. You can stay with us for the week. Mike won’t mind.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He’ll be okay with it after I explain everything to him.”

“I really don’t want everyone knowing my business.”

“Mike won’t mind, I swear.” Lorie glanced at the sliding glass door to see if Mike was watching her through the glass.

He wasn’t.

“Yeah, right,” Tara said. “I’m sure Mike wants your crazy friend coming up there and hanging around.”

“Yes. He wants what I want. Just come up here and let this FBI guy of yours handle this. It’s his job.”

Tara didn’t answer.

“At least think about it,” Lorie begged.

“I will.” A pause from Tara. “Listen, Lorie. I want you to do something for me. I want you to stay up there for a little while. Could you do that?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be up here for at least the next three or four days. I took some vacation days.”

“Okay. Good.”

“I love you, Tara. You know that. I’m just worried about you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

A few hours later, Tara sat on the couch in front of the TV. There was some kind of reality show on, but she wasn’t really watching it. Her mind was wandering. She had the small canister of pepper spray in her hand, twirling it around by the little chain attached to it.

She had called Agent Woods’ phone several times, but he didn’t answer. She left one message, letting him know that everything was okay and that she was all right. But the message sounded lame and she didn’t leave any more messages after that.

She couldn’t sit inside her apartment anymore.

She got up and paced back and forth across her living room. She needed to get out of her house. She needed to do something.

“Hell with it,” Tara mumbled and walked straight for the front door.

Tara stood in front of Steve’s front door and fought the urge to run back to her apartment. She rang the doorbell and then knocked on the door. Steve’s dark blue pickup truck was parked in front of his apartment so she assumed he was home.

She felt a little nervous. She wanted to apologize to Steve for the stand-offish way she had been treating him lately, but maybe the real reason she was here was because she didn’t want to be alone.

Her breath caught in her throat as Steve opened the door.

He looked very surprised to see her standing there.

“Tara. What are you … I mean, hi.”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“What? No. Not at all. I wasn’t even doing anything.”

Tara smiled; she felt a little better now that they were talking, a little more at ease. “I think I’ve been kind of rude to you lately …”

“No, not at all.”

“… I’d like to try and make it up to you.”

“How about over a cup of coffee?”

Tara couldn’t say anything for a moment – she was too shocked.

“We could go somewhere if you want to,” Steve added quickly. “I’m still kind of new in town, but maybe you know a place we could go.”

Tara’s heart hammered in her chest. She had only come over here to apologize; she hadn’t expected to be asked out on a date. Wait. Was that what this was, a date?

No, not a date. She couldn’t put that kind of pressure on this situation. This was just two people, two friends, getting a cup of coffee together.

Why not?
she thought.
Why not get out for a little while? Get out of the house. What could it hurt?

Tara couldn’t help smiling. “There’s a little coffee house down the street. About three blocks from here.”

“Great. You want me to drive? Or do you want to?”

She saw his eyes dart to the embarrassment that was her brown Jeep Cherokee.

“I was thinking that we could walk,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

Tara sat at one of the small tables at the café. The tables were in an outdoor courtyard that looked out onto the sidewalk and side street. Most of the other tables were occupied by couples or business people grabbing a quick lunch.

Steve brought two cups of coffee to the table and sat down.

“They have the best coffee here,” she told him.

Steve sipped his coffee and nodded, beaming at her. “Yeah. That’s really good.”

Tara felt much more relaxed around Steve now. The walk here had been pleasant. The conversation seemed to flow, and nothing felt forced. He’d asked more about the neighborhood and Tara told him what little she knew about it since she mostly kept to herself. And he really seemed to be listening to her. It was an easy conversation, effortless for her.

“So, tell me a little about yourself,” Tara said, feeling a little bolder now. What was coming over her lately? She was becoming a vixen, a flirt.

“Not much to tell,” Steve said as he shrugged. Yet he smiled. “I lead a very boring life.”

“Yeah, right. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a writer at heart,” he told her. “But I haven’t made it yet to surviving on it. So I’m in sales.”

“Sales?”

“Oh, please. You make it sound much more glamorous than it really is.”

Tara laughed. She was about to ask him what kind of sales he was in, but he asked her a question first.

“What about you? The building manager …” Steve paused like he was trying to recall his name.

“Mel,” Tara told him. Good old Mel, Tara’s only other friend, the one who had brought Steve over to introduce him to her.

“Yeah, Mel. He said you’re an artist.”

“Yeah, I do all kinds of work. Book covers. Illustrations for books and magazines. Designs. Logos. That kind of stuff. I just finished a series of illustrations for a children’s book.”

Steve looked impressed. “Children’s books. Wow. See,
that’s
interesting. Me? Just sales.”

Tara smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

“How long have you been a professional artist?” Steve asked.

“Only a few years. Since I got out of art school. The illustrations I just finished are for a guy named Ben who works for a big publishing company. Before we graduated, the art school helped us get our artwork out there to potential employers. Ben saw my work and he asked for my contact info and portfolio. And I’ve been working for him on and off ever since.”

“That’s great. Hey, do you think Ben needs any writers?”

Steve laughed and shook his head in shame. “I’m just kidding. That was tacky. That was -”

“No,” Tara interrupted. “I could call Ben. He seems to know just about everybody in the publishing world.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“No, it wouldn’t be any trouble.”

After a second cup of coffee, Tara and Steve walked back to their apartment complex. It was a slow walk, a stroll really. The weather was nice; warm, but not too hot, and there was a nice breeze whispering through the trees.

“Lorie’s been my best friend for years,” Tara said as they walked. “She’s always trying to hook me up with some guy.”

“I thought you already had a boyfriend.”

Tara was shocked. She stopped walking for a moment and looked at Steve. “No. What? Why would you think that?”

“I saw a guy in a suit and tie. A car in front of your apartment. He was there all night.” Steve shook his head no, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. That sounded really bad. Creepy. I’m not a stalker, I swear. I just noticed the car and the guy. That’s all.”

Tara thought of Agent Woods and smiled. “It’s okay. He’s not … it’s not like that. It’s a long story.”

Steve gave her a big grin. He seemed relieved now that he knew she didn’t have a boyfriend. “God, I just met you and look at me, I’m grilling you.”

“It’s okay, really.”

They continued walking slowly, the entrance to their apartment complex in view down the street.

“This has been fun,” Tara said after a moment. “It felt good to get out of the house. Get my mind off things.” And she really meant it.

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

But then Tara felt a tingling in her mind, a sudden feeling like someone was watching her. She turned and saw a man in the trees in the side yard of a house beyond the sidewalk. He was a big man, and he was dressed in layers of dark clothing. With his black hair and beard, he almost seemed to be camouflaged among the brush.

She saw the large homemade cross hanging from his neck.

It was the same homeless man who had jumped out of the alley and grabbed her when she and Lorie had gone to lunch a few days ago. He was the same man who had given her the warning.

He’s coming for you,
the homeless man had told her.
You have no idea what you’re dealing with. He’s not a man. He’s not human. He’s the devil.

The homeless man stared right at her with his dark eyes set deep in his hairy face. He made a slow throat-slashing gesture, dragging a filthy finger across his neck underneath his beard.

Tara turned back around and her body stiffened as her mind buzzed with fear.

“You okay?” Steve asked, suddenly concerned.

“I … uh …” But Tara couldn’t answer for a moment as she struggled for breath. She could feel a panic attack trying to come on.

No … not right now. Not in front of Steve.

Tara forced herself to look back at the side yard of the house.

But the homeless man was gone.

She shuddered as she fought to control her breath, forcing herself to take slow and even breaths, letting them out slowly. She continued walking for a few more steps and then gave Steve a fake smile and nodded. “I’m okay.”

Tara and Steve stood by his front door.

“That was fun,” Steve said. “I hope we can do it again.”

Tara nodded, but she was distant now, her mind still on the homeless man she’d just seen. Why was he hiding in the brush so close to her home? Was he following her? Watching her? Was he the one who had been in her apartment? Was he the one who had taken all of her light bulbs out and put them in a bowl on her coffee table?

She couldn’t sense anything right now – it was like her psychic senses were blocked.

He’s blocking them!

“Sure,” Tara finally answered Steve. “Real soon.”

“Tomorrow?” Steve asked with hope.

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”

She thought about the homeless man in the brush beside the house again. She saw him in her mind, those small dark eyes, the bushy black beard and long hair. The homemade crucifix dangling from his neck overtop of his layers of clothing. And she saw him dragging his finger across his throat slowly. Was it another warning for her? Or towards her?

Tara glanced back at the line of brush and trees that hid their apartment complex from the street. Was the homeless man in the brush right now? Watching them? Waiting.

She looked back at Steve. She felt like she needed to tell him about the man she’d seen in the trees by the house, and tell him that someone had broken into her apartment. She felt like she needed to warn him somehow, but she wanted to do it without sounding like a crazy person.

“You should keep your doors and windows locked,” she finally said. “I don’t know if you heard about the murders recently.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, turning serious and solemn suddenly. “I saw that on the news.” And then he added, “I always keep my doors locked. And you should, too.”

I
had
my doors locked, she wanted to say, but the killer got into my apartment anyway. But she didn’t say anything.

Tara jumped and had to stifle a scream as her cell phone rang and vibrated at the same time in her pants pocket. She gave Steve an embarrassed smile and dug her phone out. It was her Aunt Katie calling.

“Sorry, Steve. I have to take this.”

“No. Of course. Hey, come over any time.”

She smiled at him. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that.”

Tara walked down the concrete walkway that meandered through the landscaping between Steve’s door and her front door. She answered her phone on the fourth ring.

“Hey, Aunt Katie.”

“Hey, Tara!” her Aunt Katie squealed. “Surprise! I need you to come pick me up at the airport.”

Tara froze just as she was about to unlock her front door. “What?”

“I flew down here to see you.”

“You … what … why?”

“I can take a taxi if you can’t pick me up.” Aunt Katie’s voice dropped a little, her excitement suddenly withering.

“No. No, I’ll come get you.” Tara said as she entered her apartment. She closed and locked the front door. She waited for a moment, half listening to her aunt, and at the same time listening for any sounds in her apartment.

And she thought of how the killer had snuck into her apartment and left all of the light bulbs on her coffee table. It had been a threat, it had been an illustration of how he could get inside her apartment any time he wanted to, how he could do anything he wanted to at any time.

She wasn’t safe here.

What if the homeless man wasn’t the killer? What if he
had
been trying to warn her with his throat-slashing gesture? What if the killer had come back to her apartment and he was in here right now waiting for her?

Tara stayed on the phone as she did a quick search of her apartment. She had the phone in one hand and the small container of pepper spray from Agent Woods in the other.

“Tara,” her aunt said. “You still there?”

Tara heard the concern in her aunt’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” she told her. “I was doing something. I just got home.”

“Really, if this is going to be too much trouble, I don’t mind calling a cab,” Aunt Katie said.

“No,” Tara practically snapped as her mind raced. She couldn’t let her aunt stay here after the killer had been inside her home.
She
didn’t even want to stay here right now. She walked over to her front window and peeked out through the blinds – a habit that she performed at least twenty times a day. Her eyes scanned the brush for the homeless man as she tried to figure out how to explain this whole situation to her aunt.

“I need to get you a hotel room,” Tara finally told her. “We can’t stay at my apartment right now. It’s not safe here.”