Rarities Unlimited 03 - Die in Plain Sight

bus into Georgetown. There’s one coming by just after midnight.”
    “Gonna get wet. Storm’s about to break.” This was offered with another indolent flip of the pages, punctuated by a rumble of thunder outside.
    “I’m prepared—my umbrella is right here.” She was always prepared. Checking the Weather Channel every morning before getting dressed was part of her comfortable daily routine.
    On her way out the heavy revolving door, she hesitated a moment too long before stepping through the opening. The door jammed on the full-length umbrella trailing behind her. She set her jaw, pulled the umbrella free, and left before seeing whether the noise had been enough to stir the security guard from his comfortable perch.
    As she hurried down the street, Claire tried to open the mangled umbrella decorated with a whimsical depiction of blue skies and sunshine. It stopped opening after no more than a few inches. Leaves rustled as a gust of wind brought a light spatter of raindrops down across her silk blouse.
    “Beautiful. Livvie’s going to kill me,” Claire muttered out loud. The umbrella had been a present from her best friend Olivia, brought back after a visit to the Metropolitan Museum in New York.
    Claire checked her watch as another gust of wind ruffled her collar. She’d better hurry if she wanted to catch that bus. Despite the late hour, she chose a shortcut across the grounds of one of the area’s numerous schools. She took a canister of pepper spray from her purse and trotted across the poorly lit area. As she hurried across the black-top playground, she rehearsed what she would tell Afton when she canceled her dating service membership on Monday.
    Just tell her you’ve had terrible luck dating in the past,that it’s only ever brought boredom or disaster . Claire ducked her head to keep the rain out of her eyes.
    Tell her you’ve come to your senses and aren’t really that desperate for someone to go with to museum exhibitions and quiet dinners.
    She laughed humorlessly at her own pitiful dating aspirations.
    Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the lonely playground with its creaking swings and jungle gym. When thunder crashed directly overhead, Claire paused. Lightning came again. She counted the seconds until the thunder as she struggled to open her umbrella.
    No luck.
    Raindrops came faster now, driven by the sticky, restless wind. A few dark curls were pulled from the neat twist she wore while at work.
    As she pushed hair back out of her face, she began to jog in earnest, thinking of the tiny shelter provided at the bus stop. If the storm got really bad, she could always go into one of the bars off the Circle and call for a cab. Right now the rain was a welcome break from the night’s oppressive humidity.
    Claire rounded a corner and saw a dark shape about ten feet away. When lightning flashed, she saw the shape was a man. He had his back to her and was leaning over something. Abruptly he bent down and moved his right arm in several precise, controlled motions. As he rose and turned toward her, she saw that he was standing over a woman sprawled on her back, dead eyes open to the rain-filled sky.
    Claire’s heart stopped. An icy-hot feeling slithered through her belly. Her pulse pounded in her ears, blocking out the sound of wind and thunder.
    As lightning flashed again, her stunned eyesfrom the body on the ground to the man. He was looking directly at her, holding a long object in his right hand. Slowly his lips turned up into an odd, closed-mouth smile. She stared in shock, focused on his mouth, as the image of a photo flashed in her mind. Her paralyzed lungs filled with a gasp.
    She had seen his smile before
    The man lunged toward her.
    A knife. He has a knife
    Claire’s survival instinct kicked in, along with a dozen years of urban-woman-living-alone advice. She blasted the man with her pepper spray and flung the useless umbrella at him in an awkward left-handed throw.
    He made a hoarse sound as the spray hit his forehead and splashed his eyes.
    Run, Claire. Run!
    Heeding the voice screaming inside her head, she dropped her purse and the now useless canister and ran. When she looked back for a second, she saw that the killer was holding his hands to his eyes as he turned his face up to the steady rain.
    She knew the spray would only buy her five seconds, ten at most, since she’d missed hitting his eyes directly. She kicked off her low business pumps and hit her full running speed