Page 51 of Obsession

“We need you to come down to the station.”

“Me? Why?”

“We had a report of two vehicles racing up this road. The description of one matches your car. The other matches the one down there.”

“There was no racing as far as I know, but if you need me at the station, I’m happy to help out.”

???

The first thing Teddy did upon arriving at the sheriff’s station was to call Stone and explain his current predicament.

“So what you’re saying is you need me to bust you out of jail?”

“Technically, I haven’t been put behind bars yet, but that’s basically the idea.”

“Let me see if I can pull a few strings. Until then, try to be a model prisoner.”

“I feel it’s worth repeating, I’m not a prisoner yet.”

“Right. Lucky for you, I’ll be in Santa Barbara tonight. If my contacts don’t work out, I’ll bring you a cake with a file in it.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Thirty minutes later, Teddy was thanked and told he could leave.

38

While Rebecca had no way of telling the actual time, she was getting good at knowing when her meals would arrive.

Only a few minutes after she’d pressed her ear against the door, she heard footsteps in the hallway outside, heading her way.

She waited until they neared, then rushed to the cot and sat down.

A moment later, the steps stopped on the other side of the door and the lock turned.

The man who entered the room was the taller, wider one. He carried a paper bag in one hand and a can of soda in the other. Like always, he wore a white mask. Behindhim was the shortest of the group, also masked. He remained in the hallway, as he often did, no doubt as a deterrent in case she tried to bolt out the door.

The face coverings made them look like low-rent serial killers in a bad horror movie. The thought was so humorous, she almost laughed out loud but refrained. She knew doing so would be a mistake.

The oaf lumbered over to her table and set the bag and soda on it. She could smell the now all-too-familiar odor of reheated hamburger.

As he placed the food down, the guy looked at her, his dark eyes staring at her through the holes in his mask.

No, not staring. Leering.

Her skin began to crawl, but she kept her face neutral, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to her.

“Eat,” he said.

A real wordsmith, this one. She’d never heard him say more than one word at a time. She guessed that his English was a lot worse than his buddies’.

When she made no move for the bag, he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

His hand shot out so fast, she almost didn’t see it. Instead of grabbing her, though, he stopped it less than an inch from her arm. His fingers hovered over her skin,sending a new wave of revulsion through her. Then, slowly, he moved one finger down her arm, as if tracing the bones beneath.

“Not eat. Can do...” He paused, searching for words. “...other thing.” It was the most he’d ever said at one time, and she would have given anything not to hear any of it.

---