Nope. Sit and stare. It was the only course of action. In time he added peeing into an empty cup as a third option, a slight pressure in his bladder having slowly grown to a level of intensity that could not be ignored. While taking care of that he caught sight of a young man leaving the restaurant by himself, one who had entered by himself only ten or fifteen minutes earlier. Adding to Bill’s suspicion of him was what he had witnessed inside the restaurant, the light within making it easy to see everything that happened through the windows. Upon entering the young man had sat in Kimberly’s section and then, after waiting a bit, talked to her briefly. After that he simply left. The question was what had they talked about? Had he been a guy sent to see Kimberly by the Nikki fake, one whom Kimberly had set straight, or had he been the Nikki fake himself acting as if he had been sent there? If the latter he apparently didn’t want to mess with Kimberly’s car tonight. Instead, he got into his own car and drove away.
But maybe that’s because he wants to hurry and do something at the house while she is still working?
If that had been the case, however, why go the trouble of coming here? He knew her work schedule and could have done the stuff at the house without making this trip.
More people left the restaurant.
He waited for them to get in their cars before attempting to dump the pee cup. Naturally, more people filtered out just as he started to open the door, his hand having taken a moment to shut off the overhead light, so he waited again. Once that second group was gone he reached for the door handle, but then stopped as movement by Kimberly’s car caught his eye.
It was a person and they were doing something that was taking a few moments.
Putting the cup in the cup holder, Bill switched on his car and pulled to the left, his hope being that the building would shield his actions from the Nikki impersonator. Sadly, this also would shield them from him for several seconds. To his relief, they didn’t slip away during that opportunity and he was able to get himself into a position that allowed for him to watch as the figure went through the bushes onto the Ruby Tuesday side of the parking lot and walked to a car.
Bill followed, his hope being they would think he was simply a customer leaving Ruby Tuesday now, one who waited for them to pull out of their spot and just happened to take a similar route out of the large shopping center parking lot.
It worked.
Keeping to a standard parking lot speed, the dark -- possibly blue – car eased itself out of the Ruby Tuesday lot and turned right onto a strip of road that cut between two other parking lots and ended at another road that would lead out onto Route 23. Once on that they got into the left hand turn lane and waited at the light.
Anxiety crept into Bill’s system as he contemplated his car position in the waiting turn lane, his familiarity with this light letting him know that he probably wouldn’t make the arrow. He also worried about his car being recognized, the fake Nikki person having probably seen it many times sitting behind the house in his portion of the driveway. Then again, given the darkness, the chances of them recognizing it in a rear view mirror were probably slim. Still, the fear was there and wouldn’t budge.
The light changed.
The lead car hesitated and then slowly made the turn. Other cars did the same, each one seeming to contemplate the necessity of the turn rather than just hitting the gas and going for it.
Come on! Come on! Come on!
Green went to yellow before the Nikki imposter’s car even made it into the intersection.
They didn’t stop.
Bill didn’t either, his car crossing the line seconds after the yellow went to red.
To his left he saw a squad car waiting for their light to turn green. It was three cars behind the lead car.
Please, Bill’s mind pleaded, his heart racing. Don’t come after me –
Up ahead near the Jewel the light changed to red.
Bill pulled to a stop behind the Nikki imposter and then stared at his rear view mirror. No emergency lights appeared. The cop was not coming after him.
The light changed.
The Nikki imposter continued forward, car following the curve of the road as it headed toward the more residential areas of DeKalb. They also stayed in the right lane, which, as anyone who was familiar with this stretch of road knew, meant they planned on cutting across to First Street when the lane ended. Such a route would take them to some of the popular college housing areas, the low rent and short walking distance to the college and all the businesses located on Lincoln Highway making it an ideal choice. Most were houses similar to the one he lived in that had been converted into apartments. If one wanted an apartment in a real apartment building they had to pay more and head further west toward Annie Glidden, or north along First Street toward Harrison.
Anticipating the turn and thinking the person must be heading toward one of those converted houses, Bill started to let his mind speculate on who they were, a theory on them being a college student who got pissed off by his Nikki character seeming to be the best option.
How far are they planning on going with this?
Will it just be pictures and frequent encounters with men sent to the house and work, or will there be –
His mind stopped as the Nikki-imposter went to make the turn but then quickly cut back across onto Route 23.
Fuck! Bill silently cried while swerving over as well.
Had there been traffic in the lane cutting over would have resulted in a wreck. Thankfully, all the other cars had turned off by now, making it just the two of them. Unfortunately, it also meant his cut over had probably been witnessed, and, if planned out, had been a great way for the Nikki imposter to find out if he truly was following them.
And you fell for it.
Up ahead the car made a right onto Locus Street and then, after passing two intersections, a left onto First Street, followed by a right onto Lincoln Highway.
Bill followed all of this.
The driver then pulled into a parking spot alongside the businesses and waited.
Bill pulled in behind them.
There the two cars sat.
If they didn’t know before, they certainly do now, Bill told himself. He then contemplated getting out and rushing the driver door, but then figured they would just lock it and pull away.
You really fucked this up.
The car pulled out.
Bill followed.
They went all the way to Annie Glidden and then beyond it, which really surprised him since things would change over to farm fields quickly and stay that way until Malta.
Once in that farm area the car signaled for a turn on the first road.
They’re just randomly driving now, Bill thought, his mind trying to pinpoint where this road would take them. If he wasn’t mistaken it would turn off at Twombly before wrapping around and turning into Bethany, which, if taken, would lead them fairly close to his own apartment, after about fifteen minutes of driving. Actually, they are probably starting to panic and will –
A crash echoed throughout the car as his windshield shattered, his hands quickly spinning the wheel to the right in an attempt to take himself out of the line of fire.
Tall corn crops met his car, the remains hitting him in the face and filling the front seats as the front bumper decapitated them.
His foot slammed down on the brake.
The car dug into the dirt and halted.
Ignoring the glass and the corn guts that covered him, Bill tried opening the driver side door, but couldn’t move it, and then, without really thinking, quickly scrambled out through the broken windshield, body rolling across the hot hood into the corn where he maneuvered himself into a row. Breathing heavily, and holding a nasty cut on his arm, he watched the short narrow path his car had created, his eyes expecting to see a figure with a gun coming his way.
Nothing.
The quiet night air was still, the sounds from the city of DeKalb unable to reach out to this area and the road free of
traffic.
No one’s coming.
He didn’t budge.
Time drifted by, each minute bringing about a new source of pain as the adrenalin faded. None of the wounds were serious, but they all stung like hell.
And they could become infected if you don’t tend to them soon.
Still, he didn’t break his cover, not when it could cost him his life.
They might not have been trying to kill you, just stop you from following them, in which case they will be long gone by now.
He allowed several more minutes to pass before taking this thought into consideration and moving toward the road, his body walking between two cornrows rather than attempting to use the path his car had created.
Sure enough, the road was empty.
Whoever it was had simply wanted to shake him off their tail.
And they were quite successful.
They were –
Headlights appeared in the distance for several seconds, but then disappeared down Twombly.
Bill sighed.
He then reached for his phone to call the police, but found his pocket empty, his hand having placed the phone in the cup holder while watching Steak and Shake a few hours earlier.
His eyes shifted to the car.
Mature corn stalks stood tall along the sides, almost as if it had been perfectly slotted within. Opening the doors would be impossible. He would have to crawl through the windshield once again.
12
Aside from having to tell the young man that Nikki’s threesome idea was not going to happen, Kimberly’s shift was mostly Nikki-free. It also ended well, her last hour having seen an above average total to her tips for a Steak and Shake shift, which was nice. She then went out to her car.
A single picture was waiting, only this time it wasn’t an image of her. In fact, no one was pictured. Instead, all that was displayed was a door that had a crooked 6 on it. Once she had the light on she could see that paint was peeling as well.
YOUR FAULT was written on the back.
What is? Kimberly’s mind shouted.
Frustration, fear, and anger started to mix within her mind. She wanted to scream at whoever was doing this and tell them it wasn’t her. She wanted Bill with her while doing it so she could point to him. She wanted –
You should leave a note for them to find that shows a picture of Nicole and lets them know it was she, not you, pictured on the blog.
Details on how and why Bill had created the blog could be within the note, along with a statement telling whomever this was to torment those two instead.
Of course, nothing good would come of it.
Even if the person believed the note and left her alone she would have to live with the guilt of putting them upon someone else, which was something she didn’t need, not after what had happened in the bathroom all those years ago.
Memories started to flow.
She tried holding them back but couldn’t and saw her foot kicking Misty, the sensation of the impact and the image of the cat bouncing with a squeal still fresh in her mind. It had been a moment of insanity, one that she knew could be rationalized by others. She, however, could not rationalize it. She had kicked her best friend, had kicked her in a way that caused her to retreat under the bed where she died from a collapsed lung.
It was the fear and confusion Misty had probably suffered during those last hours of her life that really got to Kimberly. Nothing she could have done would have made Misty understand what had occurred. A lifetime of love had been shattered by a single, nearly involuntary action, one that would forever mark the final memories they both had shared of each other.
Tears fell.
A silent apology followed, one that she hoped Misty could understand up there in kitty heaven. She hoped that given whatever afterlife was available for cats, and other beloved pets, that Misty was now fully able to understand what had happened and knew Kimberly hadn’t meant to hurt her. This was the only constant wish she had in life. Nothing else was more important.
Thunk! Thunk!
Kimberly twisted toward the window.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
Heart racing, Kimberly rolled down the window with one hand while wiping away tears with the other. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he pressed.
“Yeah, just was . . . I’m fine.”
“Okay. Have a safe drive home.”
“Thanks, you too.” She rolled up the window as he walked away and then shifted the car to reverse. Not long after that she was home, her eyes startled to see Bill’s car missing.
You’ll have the entire place to yourself, she noted.
The thought brought an odd sense of fear, though it didn’t last long, not when the door upstairs opened and Bill stepped onto his porch.
13
“A Snapple Bottle?” Kimberly said in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “And boy did it do the trick. Shattered my entire windshield. I then added to the damage by driving into a cornfield.”
He left out the part about spilling a cup of pee all over the car. Some details just didn’t need to be shared.
“Wow, I’ll have to start carrying some of those.”
Bill didn’t reply to that.
The bottle had been sitting in his front passenger seat when he got back in the car, though he didn’t notice it until the police arrived and did a search through the car to see if the bullet he had told them about had gotten lodged anywhere. Once they pointed out the bottle and asked him if it was his, he had realized what had happened.
“They might have thrown a couple of them too before hitting you and you would never have known it,” the officer had said. “You’re lucky. At these speeds that could have been just as lethal as a gunshot.”
“They say anything else?” Kimberly asked.
“Not really. They’re filing a report and all that and they took the Snapple bottle for fingerprints, though I’m guessing a good defense attorney could probably get that dismissed.” All they would have to say was that anyone could have touched it while it was on the shelf at the store, and voila, reasonable doubt.
“And are they adding it to my case?” she asked.
“Um . . .” he hesitated “. . . I didn’t tell them I was following them, or about the stuff that was going on.”
“What?”
“I got worried they would think I was the aggressor and that they threw the bottle because they feared I was coming after them, or something.”
“But you watched them put the picture on my car!”
“I know, but you know how things like this unfold.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All they’d have to do is think I followed the wrong person and suddenly I was the instigator and the police report won’t help me and I’ll get stuck having to pay for a new windshield and all the damage I did to the underside of my car.”
“Bullshit.”
“Huh?”
“If you were the instigator why did you, and not they, call the police?”
Bill hadn’t really thought about that.
“And even if you were provoking them, they would still have the issue of the other person using excessive force rather than calling the police themselves. Stuff like that doesn’t bode well in this day and age.”
She’s right, Bill admitted to himself. The words, “Okay, I fucked up,” followed, along with a shrug.
Kimberly shook her head.
“So, what did they leave on your car?” Bill asked. This wasn’t the first response to her head shake that he had thought up, but it was the better of the two. Suggesting she should thank him for putting his life on the line to try to uncover who was doing this probably wouldn’t have gone well.
“Oh, just a picture of a door.”
“What?”
She fumbled in her purse for a moment and then reached into her apron.
Bill waited but no picture emerged. “Did you leave it
in the car?”
“Oh crap, I think I did.” She looked toward one of the dark windows, concern appearing on her face.
“You want me to go grab it?” Bill asked.
“What? No, I can do it. I just -- ” she looked at the window again “ -- can you come with?”
“Yeah, let’s go get it.”
The two stood up, Bill leading the way from her family room to the kitchen door. Once there he hesitated a moment, mind wondering if he should grab something that could be used as a weapon, or if that would be overkill. They were, after all, just walking fifteen feet to the garage.
“What is it?” Kimberly asked, her body close as she tried to peer over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” He opened the door. “Do you have the garage key?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
The two stepped out of the house, Bill still leading the way.
“You know,” he said while coming upon the back corner of the house. “It’s almost better without the motion sensor lights because I don’t feel like we’re being spotlighted by -- ” he stopped.
The garage door was wide open.
Behind him he heard Kimberly’s breath catch.
“Did you lock it on the way out?” Bill whispered.
“Yeah.”
Maybe the guy downstairs came home?
The thought did little to reassure him, especially since he would have heard him.
“Wait here,” Bill said and then began moving toward the door, mind once again thinking about the idea of grabbing a weapon. Nothing within the vicinity seemed adequate, and the last thing he wanted to do was waste time running back up to his apartment to grab something.
At the door he waited, listening.
Nothing seemed to move within.
Given the noise they’d made before seeing the door was open, however, could have silenced whoever was inside.
And someone is inside.
How he knew this was a mystery, but know it he did.
He looked back at Kimberly and made a phone out of his hand that he pressed to his ear.
She shook her head.
Nikki's Secret Page 16
