Page 32

THIRTY-ONE

Shivering against the cold wind, Fatima Hagerstrom strolled along Main. Streetlights cast puddles of gold across the sidewalk, but between the buildings, long shadows cloaked the entrances of the alleyways. Glad to have her dog, Max, trotting happily beside her, with his leash slack in her hand, she scanned the darkness. Tonight this part of Main was empty and only two vehicles parked outside the café in the distance. Aunt Betty’s Café was open until eleven most nights, and as the wind was getting colder by the minute, she’d have time to stop by and grab a to-go cup of coffee for the walk home. Being out alone at night always spooked her, but having a dog carried responsibilities, and walking Max even after a long day’s work was necessary. They’d taken this route countless times, but tonight the air was thick with an uneasy stillness. The usually vibrant, noisy, tourist-filled town was silent.

Suddenly Max’s ears pricked, and before Fatima could react, the leash slipped from her hand and he bolted toward a dark alleyway. She stared after him. “Max, no!”

In seconds the dog disappeared into the shadows. He never chased cats. Why had he run away from her? Pulling her phone from her pocket, she accessed the flashlight and flooded the darkness. Heart pounding, she hurried after him, moving the flashlight back and forth. Alleyways transversed this end of town and he could be down any one of them. She aimed the phone at the first one, and her white dog was nowhere to be seen. Unease gripped her as she moved to the end of the next store. “Where are you? Max, come here, boy.”

Moments later, Max emerged from alongside the Chinese restaurant, his white fur matted with something dark and wet. As she shone the flashlight beam over him, the black patch turned to crimson. Horrified, Fatima squeezed her eyes shut at the sight. Max bumped into her leg and whined in distress. She opened her eyes and stared at her blood-soaked dog. Someone might be hurt, and she needed to make sure. She scanned Main in every direction for someone to help her, but the sidewalk was empty. She gripped her phone and in hesitant steps moved forward, her knees trembling. “Is anyone there?”

Nothing.

Holding her phone out like a shield, she stepped into the dimly lit alleyway. Heart thundering in her chest, she stepped over tangles of packing material. Ahead and behind her, darkness closed in around her in a sinister embrace. In an exhalation of breeze, the metallic scent of blood washed over her and every fiber of her body told her to turn and run, but morbid fascination drew her forward. One step, two steps along the side of the filthy dumpster and she caught sight of a shoe. Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to peer around the side of the bin and stared into the sightless eyes of a woman sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. Fatima gagged in horror, her throat tightened, and unable to scream, she backed away. Suddenly a shadow shifted in the far corner of the alleyway. Someone was watching her. Terrified, the phone slipped from her grasp as she turned to run.

Sprinting along Main with Max bounding along beside her, his leash trailing behind him, she ran toward Aunt Betty’s Café. The eatery’s lights spread across the sidewalk, offering comfort and safety. Chest tight, she ran for her life past the dark storefronts and gaping alleyways. In the distance, the café seemed a mile away. Fear pushed her on and she sobbed with relief when she finally made it. Gasping for breath, she burst through the door, startling an elderly couple waiting at the counter. From the back, Wendy, the assistant manager, came out carrying a take-out bag and handed it to the elderly couple.

“Your dog is covered with blood.” Wendy came from behind the counter, her eyes filled with concern. “Fatima, what’s happened?”

Panting, Fatima stared over one shoulder, terrified the killer might be right behind her. “Call 911.” She waved a hand behind her. “There’s a dead woman in the alleyway alongside the Chinese restaurant. She’s been murdered and I saw someone in the shadows.”

“You better stay here.” Wendy turned to the elderly couple and then ran to the door and bolted it. “I’ll grab my Glock. Trust me, no one is coming through that door until the sheriff arrives.”