Honeymoon for Three

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    He peeked out and watched Gary open the hood of the car and place a number of black rocks inside. He closed the hood but didn’t latch it and walked back down to the beach. Why were they picking up black rocks? Who cared? What Alfred cared about was whether Penny might take the next trip to the car—alone.
    He looked back down at the beach. Penny had an armful of rocks. He held his breath. She was walking toward the car. By herself. Gary was walking in the opposite direction, along the beach. Perfect. Penny struggled up the sloping sand toward the parking area. In a few seconds she would reach the top of the slope and be out of sight from the beach. Out of Gary’s sight.
    Alfred retreated to his hiding place. She would walk right past him. When she placed the rocks in the front of the car, she would be within a few feet of him. Her back would be toward him. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for.
    ***
    Penny was happy. She loved to collect pretty things. The small rocks, including the agates, they would use in the coffee table they were going to build. They would place them on top of the table and then cover it with liquid plastic. The larger pieces of jade couldn’t be used in the coffee table, but they were too pretty to leave behind.
    She came up the slope and saw the car. Gary said he had left the hood unlatched. She walked directly to the front of the car. How could she open the hood without putting down her rocks? She bent her knees and managed to hook one finger around the handle of the hood and pulled. The hood came up. She bent over the storage area and carefully let go of some of the rocks.

An arm snaked around Penny’s upper body from behind and jerked her upright. She screamed and dropped her remaining rocks.
    “Shut up.”
    Alfred’s voice was unmistakable. Penny twisted, trying to escape his grip. A sharp pain in her back stopped her. She grunted but swallowed the next scream that threatened to come out. It wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Her first scream had been carried away by the wind. Gary was too far away and couldn’t have heard it.
    “Don’t move. And don’t scream.”
    The pain in her back increased. He had a knife. He had acquired another knife. Penny stopped struggling. How had he gotten out of Yellowstone? How had he found her? Why was she thinking these inane thoughts? He was going to kill her. She tried to relax her muscles so he would stop hurting her.
    “That’s better. Now I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to walk across the road and go to the VW camper.”
    She saw the white camper with the bubble top. It was parked across the highway about a hundred feet south of them. How had Alfred obtained a camper? Had he stolen it? If so, the police must be looking for him. Oh yes, they were already hunting him for murder and car theft. Where was Gary? Penny turned her head as far as she dared and realized she couldn’t see the beach from here. Gary couldn’t see her. She was on her own.
    Alfred’s arm was wrapped around her body at the level of her breasts and held her tightly. Her back was pressed against his belly. His potbelly. The thought almost made Penny giggle, in spite of her situation. She was on the verge of hysteria. She had to control herself. They marched in lockstep toward the road. When they reached the road, they waited for a lumber truck to roll by at high speed.
    Penny thought about trying to signal the driver. Her arms were free; she could wave to him. What would that accomplish? He would think she was being friendly and wave back. They were just two lovers, out sightseeing. Even if by some remote chance he recognized her plight, by the time he brought the big rig to a stop and came back to help her, she would be dead, and Alfred would be gone.
    She had to cooperate with Alfred—for now. They made it across the highway before a couple of cars zoomed past, heading north. They were going too fast to see what Alfred was doing to her. She had to admit that at sixty miles per hour they would look like lovers. Ha. Big joke. And the knife? She didn’t feel it. He must be hiding it, somehow.
    They made it to the right side of the camper, the side away from the road. If Alfred wanted her inside, he had to open a door. He would have to use one of his hands to do this. His left arm held her. His right hand presumably held a knife. He reached his right arm around her and unlatched the sliding door. There was nothing in that