Page 12 of Gator's Gambit
“Hey Ric, Mama says you’re out running some errands for her.”
“Yeah.”
“We still need a few things for tomorrow’s crawfish boil. If I send you a list, can I ask you please to pick them up while you’re out?”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
“Great, thanks. I’ll chat with you later then. Bye.”
We’ve barely hung up when Fancy’s phone rings. Her body stiffens, but then she looks at her phone’s display and smiles, body relaxing.
“Hey Em.” I can hear my sister’s voice, but not what she’s saying. They chat for a minute, and then Fancy says, “Oh, I’d love that. I can’t remember the last time I had one. Daddy hasn’t done one in an age.” She listens a bit more, and then replies, “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
Hanging up, she grins over at me. “I hear we’ve got some shopping to do.”
If I didn’t know her so well, she could probably have pulled the nonchalance off. But I do, and I can see the layer of worry she’s covering over with her smile. But I decide to leave it for the moment. Now’s not the right time to dig, and it’s clear she doesn’t want to talk about whatever is going on.
Not sure why I glance that way, but on the opposite side of the diner a man is sitting at a table by himself. The fact that he’s there alone is not what snags my attention. It’s the intenselook on his face as he stares at Fancy. His focus on her is single minded, and his expression an unpleasant one.
Without conscious thought, I find myself on my feet and heading in his direction. I’m not sure what alerts him to my approach since his concentration is so zeroed in, but his gaze shifts to me. A momentary look of shock crosses his face, then, in a heartbeat, the man is on his feet, throws some notes on the table, and disappears like mist in the sun.
I mean, like solidly gone. No trace. Nothing to indicate he was even there. If it wasn’t that I’d seen him for myself, I would have doubted that he was ever there had someone else told me. Having hightailed it to the entrance, in an effort to catch up to him, I look in both directions. There’s no sight of him on the sidewalk.
It’s like he evaporated into thin air.
Fancy comes up behind me, putting a hand to my back. “Is everything all right, Godric?”
I can feel her touch, right through my shirt, as if she’s branded me. Despite everything that’s going on, my imagination defaults to visualizing what it would feel like to have those soft, gentle hands on my naked skin.Pull yourself together, man. Now’s not the time.
Taking one last look confirms the man is gone, I turn to face her. “Yeah, just thought I saw someone I might know, but I was wrong,” I lie, not wanting to freak her out any more than she already is. “What say we pay the bill and get out of here?”
She nods. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. We still need to stop at Walmart in Havelock for the stuff your mama wants.”
“Yep. I’ll go settle up with our server and we can be on our way.”
The trip back to Havelock is markedly different to the animated one on the way to New Bern earlier. Fancy’s far moresubdued and introspective, with sporadic bouts of conversation and long stretches of silence.
I watch the road behind me carefully, noting as much as I can about the vehicle trailing us. It’s probably a rental, but I might get lucky and learn something from it. If not, I’m sure Tex’ll be able to help me learn more about this asshole. As the saying goes, “know thine enemy” — then I can figure out how I’m going to take him down. I don’t know what’s going on, but make no mistake, I have no intention of letting him hurt Fancy. Because that’s the vibe I’m getting from this situation.
First the tarot card in the car, then some dude watching Fancy like he’d like to hurt her, and now he’s tailing me. He obviously thinks he’s doing a good job of being invisible. It’s clear there’s something going on. The kind of something where people wind up dead.
Seeing the haunted look in Fancy’s eyes as I help her out of the car after we arrive at Walmart, I resolve to reach out to Tex once I’ve dropped her back at home. If anyone can find a needle in a haystack, it’s him.
If Fancy’s in danger, you can bet your bottom dollar I won’t rest until I get it figured out.
5
FANCY
Fear sits like a lead balloon in the pit of my stomach. It’s become my close companion over the past month since Evan Alexander murdered his colleague, then turned his sights on me. Bless him, the detective handling the case has been very sweet and is trying his best to catch the man, but there’s little he can do to protect me until Evan actually makes a move.
Since I can’t prove the stalking and psychological games he’s playing, there’s nothing the police department can do. He may be a raving lunatic, but one thing Evan isn’t is stupid. He’s very careful not to do anything that can be used against him and seems to delight in outwitting both me and the police.
Until today, he had me convinced I was going insane. This is the first time he’s left any tangible proof that an actual person is behind my “hallucinations”, while still not implicating himself in any way. I may not be a policewoman, but it doesn’t mean I’m not sensible enough to know he’s devious enough not to have left any evidence behind.
I’m willing to bet that should they check Em’s car or the tarot card for fingerprints, they’ll find nothing. He may be certifiably insane, but he’s smart enough to protect himself.
There’s no denying his cat-and-mouse game is effective. The constant fear and always having to look over my shoulder is wearing on me – wearing me down.
