Chapter Eighteen
I'd been at home for about two minutes when the walls started closing in on me. When I'd driven past, Pilazzo's cheery neon sign had winked at me, promising food, drink, and good company, but I'd resisted. The thing was, much as I loved Delbert, after the stress of the last few days what I needed was a little human companionship. Besides, I didn't really feel up to eating any of the food I had at my place. Actually, the truth of the matter? The thought of one of those juicy burgers was driving me crazy.
One of the nine million good things about Glenvar: it's only fifteen square miles, so it only takes about ten minutes to get to where you are going. I was so hungry I didn't even bother to change out of the gray dress. Within fifteen minutes I had flicked on my turn signal and whipped into the parking lot. There were only a few cars out front, but one of them was Zach's.
"Yes!" I whispered.
Then I looked in the mirror. My hair was almost beyond help. We're talking frizz city. Even worse, the purple ostrich egg on my forehead was turning a little green around the edges. I dug around in my tote bag and found a brush and an elastic band. Bending over as far as I could, I raked out the snarls and gathered my hair into a loose ponytail.
I even thought about using my fingernail scissors to cut some bangs, but snapped out of it real quick. What was it about the prospect of seeing Zach, someone I'd known, well, forever, that was suddenly making me turn so weird?
When I popped my head back up, Steve LeFever, followed closely by Nancy Winslow, drove around to the side of the building and parked beside a big orange dumpster. Nancy scooted out of the green Focus she was driving and plodded over to Steve's car. She wore a wrinkled rust colored skirt that looked like it was made out of burlap, a tan blouse that had seen better days, and, for some strange reason, a floppy rust colored hat.
Steve pushed his car door open and turned sideways, one leg hanging out the door. He lit a cigarette while Nancy talked to him. She moved into the space between the door and the car and blocked my view of Steve. All I could see of him was the glowing tip of his cigarette.
I was parked on the front side of the building, too far away to hear what they were talking about. My curiosity got the better of me. I reached up and unscrewed the dome light, slid across the passenger seat, opened the door, and ducked out of the car.
I glanced nervously over toward Steve's car. Nancy cackled loudly. I thanked God that they hadn't noticed me and eased the door so that it was almost closed. Another quick glance their way. Still safe.
Staying low, I slipped along between the other cars and snuck up close to the building until I reached the dumpster. I knelt down between it and a car, and strained my ears.
"Did you get the money?" Nancy asked.
I couldn't hear Steve's reply. Damn. I squeezed into the space between the dumpster and the building, inching forward until I came to the corner closest to Steve's car. The dumpster smelled sour and moldy. I pinched my nose closed and tried not to think about it. That just made it worse.
I hugged the wall, trying to keep from brushing up against the crud encrusted trash box. I'll bet you could fit two or three dead bodies inside a trash can that big. I shivered and tried to get the image of Warren, covered with blood and flies, out of my head.
A couple of broken down cardboard boxes were lying between the dumpster and the wall. I eased one of them down so that it covered the asphalt and crouched down on my hands and knees so I could peek around the corner at Steve and Nancy. I hoped like hell that no one -- especially Giselle and that cameraman of hers -- came by and saw me scrunched down beside the dumpster, eavesdropping.
Nancy let out a low whistle. "Thirty-five hundred apiece. Not too shabby!"
The car door blocked my view, but at least I could hear Steve's reply. "And plenty more, if we play our cards right," he said, almost laughing.
"Thanks, pal," Nancy said, "this is going to be one hell of a partnership."
The thumping from inside Pilazzo's suddenly became music as someone opened the front door.
Damn! I lay down flat on the cardboard mat. Footsteps clomped across the parking lot coming closer and closer to my hiding spot. I pulled the other broken box over me as best I could. My foot hit the dumpster with a loud THUNK, causing a momentary panic attack. How the hell was I going to explain myself if I got caught? Maybe I could tell them the aliens had landed, abducted me, and sucked out my brain....
The clomping grew louder. Keys rattled so close to me I felt like I could reach out and grab them. I cut my eyes up to the edge of the dumpster. No one appeared. I blew out the breath I hadn't even realized I had been holding.
The car next to the dumpster, the one I'd hidden beside roared to life. It startled me and I whopped my head against the dumpster, making another loud noise. Steve and Nancy were quiet until the car was safely out of the parking lot.
"Did you hear that noise?" Nancy asked. "It sounded like it was coming from over there by the dumpster."
Steve laughed. "You got the willies or something? It's probably just the metal contracting. That guy in the car woulda seen something if there was anything to worry about."
"You're probably right," said Nancy. "I'm just jumpy I guess." She sounded nervous.
"I can take a look if you want me to," said Steve.
Not a good plan. Especially for me.
"No, it's okay. But next time, let's meet at the car lot," said Nancy. Whew.
"I gotta run," she said. "Catch ya later."
Her heels clopped across the asphalt. Gingerly, I pulled the cardboard off of me and sat up. I peeked around the side to where they were parked. Nancy was sitting in her car, looking down at something. Finally, she left. I waited for Steve to leave, too.
He didn't. He finished his cigarette and flipped the butt out the window. It landed right in front of me, tip still glowing. His car door creaked open. I hit the ground, pulling the cardboard back over me again. What was with these people? Didn't they have anything better to do than torment sweet, innocent me?
He took his time walking around to the front of the building. When the front door opened, the music swirled out again. I counted to ten and crawled out from behind the dumpster. The front of my dress was streaked with some sort of brown gunk. I brushed it off the best I could and used my fingers to smooth down my ponytail.
I replayed what I'd overheard, but it didn't make sense. My stomach growled, reminding me of why I was there. I took another swipe at my dress, hitched my tote bag over my shoulder, and walked around to the front of the building.
A car pulled into the lot just as I was about to open the door, but it wasn't anyone I knew. The neon sign buzzed and hummed, and I could make out the words coming from the jukebox; words that constantly echoed in my mind for the past eleven months:
Bye-bye, baby, I've loved you for so long.
Destiny is calling, baby, so you've got to be strong.
Bye-bye, baby, I've gotta hit the road,
Nashville is beckoning, it's my new abode.
I'm off to make it big, have me some fun,
My new life is waiting, So you see, I've gotta run.
Bye-bye, baby, baby, bye-bye,
Bye-bye, woman, bye-bye, girl.
I sat down on the brick planter that stretches across the front of the building and waited until the song ended, trying not to gag. When I heard the last strains, I hopped back up and made my entrance. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.