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I’ve got to stop blaming my parents for what my life has become.If she wanted to be a Hollywood actress, there was only one person stopping her: herself.
Rebecca shivered and zipped her jacket to the top of her neck as a car pulled out of the Albertson’s parking lot. Suddenly, she didn’t want to go home. The idea of walking back into her apartment felt like she would be giving up on her dream all over again.
Rebecca checked her watch in the dim light from the streetlamp. The bus came about every twenty minutes. She’d been sitting here for at least five, so it shouldn’t have been too much longer.
Headlights slowed coming toward her on the street, but they were too low to be a bus. The car came to a stop in front of her, its tire rolling into a puddle beside the curb. The passenger window rolled down, revealing the shadowy figure of a man behind the wheel.
“You need a ride?” he asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “I’m just waiting for the bus.”
“Looks wet out there.”
She glanced at the roof over her head. “I’m all right.”
The man made no attempt to pull away. Rebecca felt a flicker of fear stab at her chest, thinking of the Green River Killer still at large. Then she remembered he only killed prostitutes, not hairdressers waiting at a bus stop.
“Okay. Well, I’m heading up to Everett. I could drop you off anywhere between here and there if you need a ride.”
Rebecca thought of her friend Barbara from high school, a free spirit and artist who lived on Whidbey Island across the Sound from Everett. Unlike Rebecca, Barbara was doing what she loved and had a gallery on the island where she sold her paintings.
Her bus arrived and pulled to the curb in front of the car with the same ad forGhoston its side.Am I really going to spend the rest of my life with Neil, living in this city and doing hair?
Growing up, she’d told herself she wasn’t going to live a typical ordinary life like her parents, like most people. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t for her.
The man in the car started to roll up the window as the bus doors opened with awhoosh.
“Wait.” Rebecca stood from the bench and grabbed her grocery bag. She stepped toward the car. “Can you take me to the Mukilteo ferry? I’m going to see a friend on Whidbey Island.” She needed to get away, clear her head, rethink her life. Barbara would understand better than anyone else.
“Sure,” the man said through the half-opened window. “Hop in.”
Chapter 21
HOLLY
Holly leaned her elbows onto the desk and rubbed her eyes. She’d been staring at the blank page for over half an hour. She stood and stretched her arms overhead. She needed coffee if she was going to keep working for several more hours. Outside the office window, the late-afternoon sun peeked out from behind the clouds above the Narrows Bridge.
Yawning, she made for the stairs. She’d tried to work when she got home from the grocery store last night but had been too shaken to focus. Giving up, she’d gone to bed early, hoping the rest would clear her mind. Instead, she’d lain awake all night, tossing and turning in an unfamiliar bed, her mind running wild trying to decipher the face of the dark figure in the parking lot. It had to be Jared.
He could’ve attacked her if he’d wanted to. Had he only wanted to scare her? Or maybe he’d been worried someone might see them or hear her scream. But if Jared knew where she was...
She’d called Andy at King County Major Crimes when she’d gotten up this morning to tell him she wanted the restrainingorder against Jared. But her call went to his answering machine. He still hadn’t called her back. Walking into the kitchen, she glanced at the microwave clock. It was after four.
She grabbed the glass coffee carafe and turned on the kitchen sink when a knock sounded at the door. She jumped, nearly dropping the carafe. She turned off the water and left the pot in the sink, then made her way to the front of the house.
She squinted through the peephole. It was Clint. She exhaled, chastising herself for being so jumpy before opening the door.
“Hey,” he said with a smile. He wore a different plaid shirt than he had yesterday, checkered blue instead of red, and held a pair of hedge pruners. “I normally prune the hedges around back every spring for Norm and Maurine, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with me going into your backyard.”
“Oh, sure.” She hadn’t noticed the dimple on Clint’s chin last night; he was even more attractive in the daylight.
“Okay, cool.” He extended her a rolled-up newspaper wrapped in plastic. “And this was in your newspaper box.”
“Thank you.” Her fingers brushed his when she took the paper, making her blush.
He shot her a crooked, friendly grin as he started for the side of the house.
As she closed the door, it struck her she hadn’t put on any makeup this morning before she started writing. She could only imagine what she looked like after a night of practically no sleep.