I wasn’t sure what to do with the towel. Drop it? I needed both hands since he had two eyes. Unless he had an eye patch, which seemed doubtful. But he’d see me naked. Then again, if I was going to blind him maybe I should give him something worth seeing for his last view. I couldn't bring myself to do it though, stand naked in front of a strange man. I bit the towel in my teeth and held my hands out in a claw like stance, somewhat reminding me of a velociraptor ready to attack.
The click of heels on the tile floor alerted me to his entrance into the bathroom. They made a dull thud, the sound Mike’s boots made on Violet’s kitchen floor. Ordinarily, the sound would have been barely audible, but in the silence and my fear, I heard every foot fall.
I hoped to use the element of surprise, waiting for him to open the door and planning to leap out. My adrenaline surged, ready to pounce. His cell phone rang, making me jump. I caught myself before I banged into the door.
“Yeah,” he barked. His voice sounded young, but rough around the edges from too many cigarettes.
I heard muffled words coming from the phone.
“I said I’d be right there. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up.”
Since I didn't have the gouging plan fully coordinated, I hoped he’d just leave.
He cursed again, calling the person on the other end a lot of very ugly names. “I’ll be right there.” He left the bathroom, giving the wall a good kick on his way out. The kitchen door slammed.
I snuck out of the closet, amazed I’d calmed down so much coming up with a plan. Maybe I was capable of a lot more than I thought.
Wrapping the towel around me, I hunched over and looked out the front windows. The back of a head disappeared into a beat-up looking black pickup truck with the name Weston’s Garage printed on the side, the letters rubbed off around the edges. The truck looked old and reminded me of a quilt with patches of rust spots and mismatched paint.
The man slammed the door closed and took off down the street. It surprised me he wasn’t more subtle. I only hoped Mildred had seen everything then remembered Thursday mornings meant Mildred was busy performing her presidential duties at the Garden Society meeting. Across town.
Discouraged, I turned around to view the damage left behind. Broken dishes and glasses were strewn everywhere. The junk drawer contents had been dumped onto the kitchen table, but when I checked my purse, my wallet appeared intact.
What had he been after?
I moved down to my bedroom, noticing the hole he beat into the wall in the hallway in his frustration. That had to be patched up, as well as the hole he kicked in the bathroom. In my bedroom, clothing had been dumped and thrown all over the room. In Momma’s room, boxes of photos were scattered everywhere like new fallen snow.
I sighed with weariness. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Calling the police crossed my mind, but that could take hours and I doubted they’d believe me anyway. I tiptoed my way through the mess in the kitchen to check the door. I could have sworn that I’d locked it when I came in. But I found it unlocked and the door didn't look busted in. The police definitely wouldn’t believe me now.
In the end, what did it matter whether I called or not? It wasn't like they were going to do anything about it.
The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I answered it cautiously. Momma didn't believe in caller ID so I had no way of knowing who waited on the other end.
“Rose?” Joe asked, sounding surprised.
“Joe?”
“What are you doing home? Why aren’t you at work?”
“Why are you calling me if you didn’t think I was home?”
“I was gonna leave a message.” He paused then let his anger loose. “Where were you last night?”
“Excuse me?”
“You left and never came home, where were you all night?”
He was really starting to make me mad. Who did he think he was, anyway? “That’s none of your business, Joe McAllister! I don't answer to you.”
“I was worried about you, Rose. First your mother, then your break-in and the murder last night. I was scared something happened to you.”
“Wait a minute, what murder?”
“A bartender from Jaspers.”
The blood rushed out of my head and pooled in the tips of my toes. “What? Sloan?”
“You knew him?” Joe didn't sound as worried as he did before.
“Well, I wouldn't say I knew him that well. We had a dealing.” I sure wasn’t going to admit to Joe I needed help fending a man off. “I can’t believe it.” I sank down in a chair. I didn’t know how much more bad news I could take.