Page 49 of A Rose of Steel
“The truck was stalking you?” he asked, a smirk on his face.
I hunched a shoulder. “The driver in the truck, I guess would be the stalker.”
“Did you see who it was?”
“No. I didn’t see anyone. I’m not even sure of the color of the truck, so I can’t describe it to you. I didn’t get the license plate number, and I can’t be sure any of it was as menacing as I thought at the time.”
“Just menacing enough for you to hit the ground and hide?”
“Just about that much.”
“You want me to take a look at your flat tire? I can fix it”
“No, roadside service shouldn’t be long now,” I said, I touched my phone to bring up the time. “They said twenty minutes.”
“Well, I’ll stay with you until you get back home. Follow you after they repair the tire. Keep you safe.”
“You’re going to keep me safe?”
“Yep. I’ll keep you safe for as long as you’ll let me.”
“What’s your real name?” I said, looking at him out the side of my eye.
“What kind of question is that?” he said and chuckled. “And where did it come from?”
“Remmiere is a French name, right? You speak French. Not French Creole, but you’re not from France.”
“Are you suspecting me of being the killer again?” he said. He shifted in his seat so he could look at me. “Remember you thought I might have killed Herman St. John and put his body in a casket at Babet’s funeral home.”
“His real name was Ragland Williamson, but you know that, don’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“And of course I remember I thought you did that,” I said. “To be honest if I hadn’t been the one to figure out who the real killer was, I might still believe you were the one who did it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re so secretive.”
“I am not,” he said. “Ask me anything, I’ll tell you.”
“Do you have a home? Because you’re always at our place.”
“Yes, I have a home. Would you like to see it? I can take you there now.”
“No. I don’t want to see it. And don’t change the subject.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Next question.”
“Are you a spy?”
“No.” A slight chuckle erupted from the back of his throat. “Didn’t we have this conversation before, the day I helped paint your room?”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything that has to do with you,” he said.
“Back to my questions.”
