Riptide

still breathing. At least he won't be
    climbing into your bed anytime soon. Hear he's having a tough
    time talking and eating. He needed to lose a few pounds anyway."
    "You killed Dick McCallum. You made him tell those lies about
    me and then you killed him. How much did you pay him? Or did
    you threaten to kill him if he didn't do as you asked?"
    "Where did you get all this information, Becca?"
    "It's true."
    Silence.
    "Nobody could have found me. The FBI, the NYPD, nobody.
    How did you find me?"
    He laughed, a rich, mellow laugh that made her want to vomit.
    How old was he? She couldn't tell. Think, she told herself, listen

and think. Keep him talking. Use your brain. Is he young or old?
    Accent? Listen for clues. Make him admit to murdering Dick.
    "I'll tell you when I see you, Becca."
    She said very deliberately, very slowly, "I don't want to see you.
    I want you to go someplace and die. That or turn yourself in to the
    cops. They'll fry you. That's what you deserve. Why did you run
    down Dick McCallum?"
    "And just what do you think you deserve?"
    "Not this bullshit from you. Are you going to try to kill the governor
    again?"
    "I haven't made up my mind just yet. I know now that he isn't
    sleeping with you, but only because he doesn't know where you
    are. An old man like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, Rebecca.
    Remember Rockefeller croaking when he was with his
    mistress? That could be you and the governor. Best not do him
    again. But you're a little slut, aren't you? Yeah, you'll probably call
    him so he can come sleep with you some more."
    Why hadn't she had the phone tapped? Because neither she nor
    Adam dreamed he'd find her here in Riptide and call her.
    "You murdered Dick McCallum, didn't you? Why?"
    "You're all confident again, aren't you? You've been away from
    me for only a couple of weeks, but you're all pissy again. Too confident,
    Rebecca. I'm coming for you very soon now."
    "Listen, you bastard. You come anywhere near me and I'll blow
    your head off."
    He laughed, throaty, deep laughter, indulgent laughter. Was he
    young? Maybe, but she couldn't be sure. "You can try, certainly. It'll
    add some spice to the chase. I'll see to you soon. Real soon, count
    on it."
    He hung up before she could say anything more. She stood
    there, staring blankly at the old-fashioned black phone, staring and

knowing, knowing deep inside her that it was all over. Or it soon
    would be. How could anyone protect her from a madman? She'd
    done the best she could and yet he'd found her, nearly as easily as
    Adam had.
    How had he found her? Did he have as many contacts as Adam?
    Evidently so. No, she wasn't going to give up and let him come to
    kill her. No, she would fight.
    She laid the phone into the cradle and walked slowly from the
    living room. She was tired, infinitely tired. She couldn't just stand
    there in the middle of Jacob Marley's house, she just couldn't. She
    felt itchy from the inside out, and cold, very cold. Nearly numb.
    She loaded her Coonan .357 Magnum automatic, slipped it in
    the pocket of her jacket, and walked to the woods where she'd
    confronted Adam two days before. Had it really been only two
    days? She sat down in front of the tree where he'd been doing his taste kwon do exercise. She looked at the spot where she'd stood,
    pointing her gun at him, so afraid she'd thought she'd choke on it.
    But she hadn't had time to shoot or to choke. He'd kicked the gun
    out of her hand before she could draw two breaths. She closed her
    eyes and leaned back against the tree. Would the stalker have just as
    easy a time with her as Adam? Probably so.
    She closed her eyes and let her mind shut down. She saw her
    mother, laughing down at her--she couldn't have been more than
    seven years old and she was trying to do a cheerleading chant. Then
    her mom had showed her how to do it and it had been so wonderful,
    so perfect. Her mother's laughter, so sweet, filling her, making
    her warm and happy. She rubbed her wrist where Adam had
    kicked the gun out of her hand. It didn't hurt, but there was memory
    of the cold numbness that had lasted for a good five minutes.
    Where was he? Why had he left?

Adam was back at Jacob Marley's house and he was so scared for
    a moment he couldn't think. She was gone. The door was open but
    she was gone. There were even two lights on but she was gone. The
    stalker had gotten her. No, no, that was ridiculous. He was the only
    one who had found her.
    He searched every damned room