He's coming.
The tears kept falling, but she didn't dare wipe them away. She hit the button to roll down the windows, and let the breeze air dry her face. The edges of her vision crystallized, but she could see. As she’d planned before coming, Holly veered off the main road and followed a roundabout route to the motel. The office had plenty of maps to sell her, and she'd worked out two different routes in addition to the highway.
Al l the way, she checked for familiar cars in the traffic. No sign of Ozzie's red Chevy. No sign of Clay's white Saturn. Following her at the moment was an old woman in a small Toyota, and further back a blue mini-van. Even in his current state, Clay wouldn’t be seen dead in one of those.
She had gotten away. For the time being, at least.
* * *
Ozzie pulled from the curb, chiding himself for screwing up like that. Had Clay seen him warn Holly? No, he couldn't have. She had already reached her car when Clay pulled up alongside him. In a mini-van, no less. He would have laughed if he hadn’t seen the death mask that was Clay's face.
“Where,” was all he said. Ozzie described the car he'd seen her get into, and pointed. Clay looked ahead of him, eyes darting, searching; then he pulled away slowly, in calm pursuit.
* * *
“I have to go. Here, Connor! Come here, Baby.”
“I'll say this one more time, Holly. What is going on?”
Holly's face was streaked with dried tears. “Ozzie saw me. He works at the store. He said Clay was coming.”
“Clay knows you're here?”
Holly paused. Did he know where she was? She never saw his car, never saw any flash of red to indicate Ozzie had followed, either. “No,” she said at last. “No, I guess not.”
Dot played with Holly's hair, trying unsuccessfully to untangle it. “Is this place still paid for?”
Holly nodded. “I paid up until June eighth.”
“Well, that's good. Why June... aw, Honey. You don't believe those stories, do you?”
Holly almost denied it, but what would be the point? She nodded. Her friend laughed, a heavy, tension-cutting sound and tousled Holly's hair, having obviously decided the rat's nest was beyond fixing. “You go on and believe what you want. Come June ninth, you can stay with me and Phil, OK?” She took Holly in a loose hug. Connor gleefully squirmed between them. “I'll stay here with you the rest of the day, see if Mister Big ever shows up. If not, I'd have to say you're in the clear. He's never been a very patient man.”
A shadow by the window caught Dot's attention. When she looked up, there was nothing. She'd opened the blinds while Holly was gone, then the windows to freshen the air. From here, she could see the parking lot, and as far as she could tell, nothing was different except her own car which Holly had come back with, and a blue minivan now parked across the lot. It, too, was empty.
By seven o'clock that evening, Dot prepared to leave. Holly had re-closed the windows, turned on the air conditioner and shut the blinds.
“It's like a cave in here,” Dot said, giving a kiss to baby and mother in turn. She paused by the door, talking while typing a long text into her phone. “Phil is probably calling the National Guard for me by now. The man worries too much. I'll call you tonight. You promise to stay put?”
She promised. Dot went home.
An hour later, Holly fed Conner, burped him, and laid him down to sleep. It was dark outside, and Holly lay on the bed. She couldn't sleep, but she knew she had to relax or it would affect her milk.
Twenty-five minutes later, the door to the motel room opened with a subdued thump. Clay stumbled inside. He smiled as he straightened up, then lingered at the doorway, patching up the lock. He said nothing, just occasionally turned to her and smiled. She never moved, except to creep towards the far side of the bed. She almost expected him to say something bizarre like, “Hi, Honey, I'm home.” But he never spoke.
The door fixed, he closed it and wandered to the closet, got the suitcase she'd bought at the store along with the diapers and Pack ‘N Play, methodically opened and closed the dresser drawers, throwing whatever clothes he found into the case. He snapped it shut, looked down at Connor and gently lifted his sleeping form.
Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to spring if Clay made any threat. He didn't. He smiled again and handed Connor over to her, folded up the Pack 'N Play, lifted it and the suitcase and walked to the door.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Time to go home.”
Holly hesitated. Clay turned back. He wasn't smiling. “Now, Babe. Or I'll kill you both right here.” She looked into the two dark orbs that used to be his eyes, and knew he was telling the truth.
Holly cradled her son closer and followed Clay to the mini-van parked across the lot. They did not speak on the ride home. She tried not to think what was going to happen when he had her back in the house, in the place where he felt safe enough to act out his true nature. When he got her inside, she had to make sure Connor was safe in his crib before Clay killed her. At least then her son would have a chance of surviving. This was all she had left to cling to, as she watched the white lines of the highway ticking off their passage back home.
15
“Doctor Ramprakash!”
Neha stopped with an unexpected pang of happiness on hearing her name pronounced correctly. Over the past month, Bernard Meyers had made it a point to acknowledge her in the hall whenever they crossed paths. Aside from this small token of recognition, nothing else seemed to come of her participation in his dinner the month before.
She paused only briefly, pretending to note her place on the chart she carried for Mrs. Rondeau in room 316, then turned and raised an eyebrow, an expression of passive interest.
“Doctor Meyers, how are you this morning?”
Meyers walked quickly to her side and Neha fell into step. He didn't want to keep her from her destination, protocol for any ad-hoc hallway meeting. He seemed in a hurry himself, and she admired how the older man never looked winded as he whirled about the hospital.
“I won't keep you long,” he said. They turned the corner. “Just wanted to extend another invitation to you and Suresh.” Again, Neha was filled with hope, knowing that Meyers would have done some research to remember her husband's first name.
“Another dinner?” she asked lightly.
Meyers slowed as they neared the third floor nurse’s station, then stopped altogether. Obviously he wanted their conversation to be private. His face flushed, and for a moment Neha thought the man was going to ask for a date. But no, he'd mentioned Suresh, hadn’t he?
“For obvious reasons, some quite political as you'll soon understand, I hope I can count on your discretion.”
She kept her face an expressionless stone as she whispered, “Of course.”
He waved a hand casually in the air. “Oh, it's nothing too earth-shattering, honestly, only I don’t have much room at the cottage and need to be careful not to bruise anyone's feelings.”
Al ready Neha felt herself shift, mentally, into a new state of expectation. His cottage, and only a few people. She kept herself calm, breathing deeply through her nose, not wanting to seem eager. “I understand,” she said.
“Linda and I have a small place in Colorado, near Westcliffe. Mostly for skiing in the winter, mind you.” He paused a moment as two nurses came by, wheeling a woman out of 319. Drake, Neha thought automatically, x-rays and blood work. She smiled at the director, ignoring the curious glances from the nurses.