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Another scene finished! I'm just trucking along.
The sun had set as she cycled down the street from the drugstore. The developed pictures were safe in her back pocket. Mrs. Baton’s car was back in the driveway. Cyndia grimaced. Across the street, the bedroom lights at the Johnsons’ were still on. Funny, the Johnsons’ were usually the first ones out. They kept to their children’s bedtime schedule even on major holidays, and presented her with the same list of instructions every time she babysat. All the lights on wasn’t right. Her heart pounded, but it wasn’t from the bike ride.
“CYNDIA!” Mrs. Baton bellowed from the front door without stepping out onto the porch. Cyndia grimaced again, and waved as she peddled up the driveway.
She pounced on her as soon as she entered the kitchen. “Where have you been? Don’t you know there’s a murderer still on the loose? You were supposed to stay home!”
“I just went down to the drugstore for something to drink.” Cyndia held up the two-liter bottle of soft drink. “I kept to the main roads, and stayed in the public’s sight the whole time.”
“Next time just drink water!” Mrs. Baton flounced away from the argument. Cynthia sighed with relief. It was short-lived. “Did you finish your homework?”
“Everything, but the history paper. It’s due next week.”
Mrs. Baton froze mid-putting dishes into the dishwasher. “The paper on serial killers is for history?”
“It’s how criminal investigation has changed since Jack the Ripper. I just haven’t found a modern case to compare his to.” She took a deep breath. “The teacher said it was an ambitious topic.”
“That’s not all it is.” Mrs. Baton shook her head. “Couldn’t you write something nice about George Washington instead?”
Cyndia put the soft drink bottle in the refrigerator. “I’ll be in my room.”
The lights were still on at the Johnsons’ and she had a growing uneasy feeling about that. However getting out from under Mrs. Baton’s watchful eye, she was fresh out of ideas. The phone rang muffled through the walls. Cyndia turned back to her reference book, but she couldn’t concentrate on it. The knock on the door still made her jump.
Mrs. Baton stuck her head into the room. “There’s an emergency neighborhood association meeting. Will you please stay home and not go shopping while I’m gone?”
“Sure.” Cyndia waited until she heard the car go down the street. The lights were still on at the Johnsons’. Her heart pounded, but V. I. Warshawski wouldn’t abandon a family in trouble.
Nobody else was out in the yards or the street to see her sprint to the Johnsons’. Cyndia didn’t want to be mistaken for a murdering prowler tonight. Their living room had a window that faced the side yard. She could peek there without being seen.
She got between the two shrubs planted under the window to prevent easy access. One branch dug into her cheek but she ignored it. Her brown eyes eased up over the window sill. The room was obscured by something red splattered on the glass, a fine red spray.
Cyndia jerked back. The branch snagged her hair and cut her cheek. She landed on her butt and hands. The back of her head hit the fence. Too late, too late, why didn’t she check on them before going to Mrs. Baton’s?
There was a rustle in the back yard. Had one of the kids escaped? She got up slowly, and crawled to the corner of the house. The back yard was fenced in with large, flowering shrubs that filled the area with a cloying scent. The French doors between the house and the patio stood open. But the yard was empty.
Cyndia stood up and left the corner of the house. How to tell the police? Intrepid amateurs were always accused of being the murderer. Skipping that would be great. And she had to tell Murdock. He’d want to see the crime scene while there was still a way in.
If she hadn’t been staring at the lighted doorway, she would have seen the movement in the shadows of the yard. What she did see and turned toward was the arm in motion.
Her elbow dug into the grass when she hit the ground. The dark blur jumped to land on her legs. She pulled them out of the way and kicked back. He fell on his back. No knife, otherwise he wouldn’t have punched. Cyndia pounced, landing on his torso. She punched his jaw and then hit him again. “You murdering, feathered psycho!”
Thestern rolled Cyndia onto her back. His hands latched onto her throat. Breathing isn’t optional, and she pounded on his arms. “You disturb God’s name.” He let her go and ran through the yard.
She had to lie there, sucking down air to cool her burning lungs. Where was he going now? She crawled about halfway around the house before getting enough strength back to stand up. Staggering across the street to the Baton yard, Cyndia heard a loud splash in the lake. “Great, he thinks he’s the Creature from the Black Lagoon now.”
The Baton house was still empty. The meeting should last at least an hour. Cyndia unlocked the garage door and went inside. That should be plenty of time to consult with Murdock. She grabbed a flashlight and locked the house again as she left.
The lake only showed a few ripples in a slight fog over it in the flashlight beam.
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