“I dunno, man,” the attendant said as she heard him latching the nozzle into the pump. “I’m not supposed to associate with you.”
“Don’t be a sissy,” Fowler answered, the voice similar to the one he’d used at the bank. “I’ll be at our usual spot, PJ’s, at eight. Be a man for once and show up.”
Fowler laughed, and the memories of him standing before her, the threat of drawing a gun, cut through her. The baseball cap pulled low over his hard eyes. Sadistic grin on his face.
Her hands turned moist and clammy, and she swiped them over her jeans. Too bad God didn’t hear her prayers anymore or she would pray. But He didn’t listen. Even when the prayers were for Ella.
Ella. Precious Ella. Lying helpless in a hospital bed. Chemotherapy weakening her immune system. Making her susceptible to every bug going around.
Hot tears filled Megan’s eyes.
No. Stop. Don’t let this man make you cry. Don’t let him make you do anything. Not anymore.
She took a cleansing breath, inhaling the gasoline fumes and irritating her airway. She let it out slowly. No way she would cough and draw attention to herself. She’d survived the terror inflicted by Fowler once. She could do it again. This time for Ella.
Megan’s daughter had no one else to protect her. No one.
Footsteps approached her window.Please let it be the gas attendant.
“Here you go, lady. Merry Christmas.” The holiday greeting was as lackluster as the sagging garland on the pumps.
She reached for her card.
He released it, and scratching his bearded chin, he walked away. “I’ll be there, man, but only one drink.”
“I knew I could talk you into it.” Fowler laughed again, but the taunting sound drifted away as if he was heading toward his pickup.
C’mon, hurry up. Drive away.
The cars in front of her slowly pulled forward, but she sat, watching until Fowler roared to the exit in a rusty white pickup truck.
He was leaving. She was safe. She exhaled and panted for another breath.
He turned right on the road leading to the hospital, exhaust trailing behind and tainting the air.Wait.Toward the hospital? Did he know about Ella, or was Megan being paranoid?
Maybe he pretended not to see Megan to make her think he didn’t care about her anymore. Let her relax. Put her guard down. Become an easier target.
That seemed logical. The city of Medford was too big for such a chance meeting. They were near her home and the hospital. He could’ve followed her when she’d left Ella at the hospital to go home to get Ella’s well-loved Boo-Boo bear.
Or had his truck been at the station when she’d driven in? Was it really Fowler?
Now she wasn’t sure. Memories could do funny things.
Maybe she reallyhadmistaken his identity. After all, the Department of Justice’s Victim Notification Service should have contacted her about his release, and she hadn’t heard from them. But she’d given them her home number and hadn’t been home to take the call. She needed to call their hotline. Later. After she was certain Ella was okay.
Megan fumbled with the key in the ignition, her hand shaking and slowing her down. She finally revved the car and peeled out of the lot in hot pursuit of the truck. She raced down the streets decorated with Christmas lights coming to life in the dusky skies. She pushed her older car. Raced above the speed limit and the engine groaned with the effort.
Still, it took only minutes before she careened to a stop next to a white pickup parked in the visitor lot.
She climbed from her car and gave the truck a quick once-over. Looked like the same vehicle from the gas station, but she couldn’t be positive. Pulse ratcheting up, she jumped out and pressed her hand on the hood.
Warm. Hot, actually. As if the engine had recently been turned off.
Fowler.
Oh, no. No.She bolted through the lot and into the lobby as the sun sank to the horizon. She charged across the open space and around a brightly decorated Christmas tree with colorful packages stacked below, heart pounding wildly.
She glanced at the elevators. All on floors above five. No time to wait for the car. Ella’s room was only on the second floor.
