Eyewitness. Carol Ericson
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When Gary pulled up in her car, Devon touched Kieran’s forearm. “You know Gary. You might as well get started now.”
Kieran nodded and flicked on the porch light before swinging open the door. Gary exited the car and nearly tripped over the curb.
“Is that Kieran Roarke?”
“Back from the dead.”
“Son of a…” Gary swept the grease-stained cap from his head and charged forward, arm outstretched. “So you made it out of there. Just like in the old days on the football field. Nothing can keep you down.”
The two men pumped hands, and Gary pointed to his own eye. “Did you lose an eye over there, man?”
“Not quite, but I’m not sure I’ll ever have use of it again.”
“What the hell. You’re alive, right?”
“Yeah, I’m alive.”
“Devon, good to see you, too, and this is your little guy?” Gary bent over and waved at Michael, who had shrunk behind Devon, clutching her hand.
Great. Another stranger. Like father, like son. Michael was going to have to relearn a few things, too.
“Yes, this is Michael.” She knelt beside her son. “This is Gary. He fixed Mommy’s car and now we’re going to give him a ride back to his car.”
She said an awkward goodbye to Kieran, promising to call him when she got home. After dropping off Gary, she drove back to her mother’s house, checking her rearview mirror. There were a few cars on the road, probably tourists heading from dinner to the few bars in town or making their way to the coast for more action. No white vans.
Why had someone broken into her car just to get a purse? Maybe he slashed her tires after discovering how little money she had in that purse.
She turned off Main Street and cruised past a development with a big warehouse store, an office supply store and a linens store along with the requisite coffee place and a couple of fast-food joints. A pair of headlights had followed her through downtown Coral Cove and stayed with her past the stores on the right where she’d expected him to peel off.
She continued on to the next streetlight and pulled up next to a car filled with teens, the bass from the car stereo thumping so loud it reverberated in her chest. She shifted her gaze to her rearview mirror and studied the car behind her—a sedan, not a van.
Her pulse ticked faster. Was that the same sedan at the lookout? She’d been focused on the van, but maybe the occupant of the silver sedan had been the one who broke into her car.
With her heart thumping along with the bass from the hip-hop song, Devon pulled in front of the teens’ car and barreled through the red light. The teenagers got a kick out of her move and honked and flashed their lights.
She careened around the next corner and then took a few side streets to backtrack to the shopping center. The box store was closed for the night but a steady stream of cars flowed through the fast-food drive-through windows, and a few caffeine junkies had parked themselves at the coffee house.
She backed into a parking slot in front of the coffee house, her nose pointing toward the main road. She didn’t know what she was looking for—plenty of light-colored sedans criss-crossed the parking lot, pulling in and out of spaces.
“Where are we going, Mommy?”
“I thought we’d stop for some ice cream. Do you want an ice-cream cone?”
The phone in her pocket buzzed and she jumped. She checked the display and seeing Kieran’s name almost made her jump again until she remembered her fiancé was no ghost.
He was no fiancé, either.
“Hi, Kieran.”
“Aren’t you home yet?”
“N-not quite.”
His voice sharpened. “What’s wrong?”
“We stopped at the local Mr. Frosty for an ice-cream cone because we didn’t get enough pizza.”
“Is it safe?”
“There are tons of people here, or at least tons for Coral Cove.”
“I still want you to call me when you get home.”
“Will do.”
When she ended the call, she felt Michael’s eyes boring into her. She tapped the phone. “That was Kieran checking up on us. Too bad he can’t join us for ice cream.”
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