Page 50 of Last Date
He turned and followed her, and I watched them exit the bar. As they left, two uniformed cops entered and headed toward me and the manager. Thomas had come back downstairs, looking frustrated.
“There wasn’t anyone up there. They must have snuck out the back stairs.” He put his big hand on my shoulder, and his face was flushed. “I wish I’d got my paws on that son of a—”
“Are you okay, Kip?” Carlton interrupted. Carlton had managed the Rusty Pier for as long as I could remember. He wasn’t officially related to the family that owned the place, but they treated him like he was. He ran his fingers through his dyed black hair, peering at me through gold-framed glasses. “I feel just horrible that you were assaulted in our restaurant.”
“My neck is sore, but I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Carlton looked worried. “The restaurant will be happy to cover your medical expenses should you want to go get examined.”
“I don’t think there’s any need.”
Thomas scowled. “You should still get checked out. That psycho might have damaged your windpipe.”
“I’ll make an appointment with my doctor, but I don’t want to go sit in an ER right now.” I was still in shock about what had happened, and spending hours in a hospital waiting room wasn’t something I could handle at the moment.
“Kip, your throat could swell, and you wouldn’t be able to breathe.”
“The ice pack is helping. I’m sure I’m fine.”
One of the cops approached. “Are you the one who was assaulted?”
“Yes,” Thomas answered for me.
“I’m Officer Daniels,” he said. “I need to take your statement. It would be helpful if you could give us some details about your attacker.”
Sighing, I said, “I didn’t see him clearly. He had a big coat with a hood.”
“Hmmm. That’s unfortunate.” Officer Daniels looked disappointed.
“I think he had a mustache.”
“Did he seem familiar at all?” the officer asked. “Did the attack feel personal?”
Wincing, I said, “Hard to say. It certainly felt personal at the time, but I can’t be sure because I couldn’t see his face.”
“What color was his mustache? Was it thick or thin?”
“Black and thick.” As I said those words, the memory of the van that had followed me one night came to me. I’d almost forgotten about that night because nothing had happened. But that guy had also had a mustache. Could it be the same guy? “I may have seen him before, but I can’t be certain,” I said softly.
Officer Daniels brightened. “Where?”
“Well, one night a few days ago, I was walking my dog. A guy in a van seemed to be following me. That man had a mustache too.”
“So many people have mustaches though,” Thomas said.
“I know.” I grimaced. “And maybe the van wasn’t following me that night. But it felt like he was. And when I stopped walking and looked at him, he drove away quickly.”
“Really?” Tapping his chin with his pen, Officer Daniels looked thoughtful. “Can you describe the van?”
“It was a basic white delivery van.” I frowned. “Oh, it said Luscious Stems Florist on the side.” I’d almost forgotten that little tidbit.
“This is great info.” Officer Daniels scribbled on a notepad. “There may be no connection, but it couldn’t hurt to go ask some questions.”
Officer Daniels spent a few more minutes interviewing me, but I didn’t have much else I could tell him. Carlton apologized a few more times, comped our bar bill, and gave us coupons for free dinners.
By the time we exited the Rusty Pier, it was almost midnight. Thomas left in his Uber, and I left in mine, promising to text him when I arrived safely home. When I entered my house, Spot jumped around happily, and I obediently texted Thomas.
Exhausted though I was, I forced myself to wash up. Next, I dug out my ice pack and, once it was filled with ice, crawled into bed. I lay staring up at the ceiling, desperately craving sleep. Unfortunately, every little sound in the house had me on edge. I couldn’t believe that, once again, I seemed to be the target of some whacko. I tried so hard to live my life like a good person. Why did I keep crossing paths with crazy people?
