She hesitated, then finally nodded. “Marsha and I are sort of friends because we...share a few things. We both moved here within a couple of weeks of each other, almost a year ago. We work together at the grocery.”
“Your ages? And your appearance?”
“We don’t look like twins.”
“I didn’t think you did. But otherwise?”
“I think we’re as different as night and day.” Indeed they were. Marsha had short red hair, a square chin, green eyes and a bust a lot of women would have paid a fortune for. Cory, on the other hand, now had chin-length auburn hair—which she hated because she had to keep it colored herself to hide her natural dark blond—and brown eyes that had looked good when she was blonde but now seemed to vanish compared to her hair. The Marshals had given her a slight nose job, though, replacing her button nose with something a little longer and straighter. They hadn’t messed with her bust, though. That was still average.
“Are those differences that could be easily manipulated?”
She didn’t like where he was going with this, didn’t like it at all. “You are suspicious.” But then, so was she. All of a sudden Gage’s phone call seemed a lot less reassuring. “Marsha and I don’t look at all alike.” But how sure was she of that?
“Then I’m overly suspicious.” He leaned back, picking up his coffee again. “Way too much so.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve lived my life in the shadows. Suspicion is part of my creed. I never take anything at face value.” He shrugged. “Best to ignore me, I suppose.”
It might have been except for her past. Had she an ordinary life behind her, it would have been easy to dismiss him as a nut. But she couldn’t quite do that.
“Why,” she asked finally, “would he call so many? If someone was after either of us, a whole bunch of phone calls wouldn’t make sense, would it?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, just ignore me.”
Easier said than done, especially when he seemed to have been following some train of thought of his own. But he said nothing more, and she really couldn’t imagine any reason he should be suspicious.
But of one thing she was reasonably certain: the man who would want her dead wouldn’t need to call a bunch of women to scare them. In fact, it would be the last thing he would do. Because calling her would warn her, and if she got scared enough to call the Marshals, they’d move her.
Even though moving her would take time, it would certainly make killing her more difficult while she was under constant surveillance once again, as she had been in the three months between the shooting and her eventual relocation.
So it had to be a prank. Surely. She clung to that like a straw in a hurricane.
Because it was all she could do.
In the morning, Cory decided to go for coffee with Marsha after all. She had a little money to spare because of Wade, and a cup of coffee at Maude’s didn’t cost that much, especially if she avoided the fancier drinks that Maude had begun to introduce, taking her cue from the major coffee chains. So far Cory didn’t think there was a huge market for “mocha decaf lattes” here, even though she loved lattes herself, but they were now available if anyone wanted them.
Marsha expressed huge gratitude for the call. In her voice, Cory heard a stress that matched her own. She hadn’t slept well at all last night, tossing and turning, one nightmare following another.
When she finally gave up trying to sleep, it was only five-thirty in the morning. She’d grabbed a book from the table beside her bed and had attempted to read for a couple of hours. In the end, though, the words might as well have been random letters, none of the story penetrated, and she thought she might have dozed a bit.
Wade must still be asleep, she thought when at last she reset the house alarm and slipped out the door. She’d been the only one to change the alarm settings since she awoke—she’d have heard the tone if anyone had—and she hadn’t heard him moving around.
Nothing strange in that, she supposed, except she had somehow expected him to be an early riser. Why? Because he’d been in the navy? Not everyone in the navy worked days and slept nights. She knew that much. Maybe he’d had some kind of night duty. Which got her to wondering what kind of work he’d done, and how he’d gotten enough medals to paper a wall, according to Gage.
Well, she could always try asking him, but she doubted he would answer. And how could she complain about that when she kept her own secrets?
It was a lovely summer morning, and she could have walked to Maude’s but uneasiness made her take the Suburban anyway. Besides, she told herself, trying to pretend she wasn’t acting only out of over-heightened fear, if Marsha really did want to get a big dog, the Suburban might be the best way to get it home.
Marsha was already there at a table with coffee in front of her. Hardly had Cory slid into a seat facing her when Maude stomped by, slamming a mug down and filling it. A little bowl of creamer cups already sat in the middle of the table.
Cory actually felt a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth. In a year she’d never bought anything here except coffee, and Maude had apparently given up on talking her into anything else. Once in a blue moon, a piece of pie would be slapped down in front of her but never show up on the bill. Interesting woman, Maude. Cory was quite sure she had never met anyone like her.
Marsha smiled at her, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. She looked exhausted, and Cory suspected they had both spent nights filled with nightmares and restlessness.
“I’m glad that you told me a bunch of women got the same call,” Marsha said.
“I don’t know how many, but Gage indicated there were a few of us. That’s why he thinks it’s a prank.”
“Makes sense.” Marsha opened another little cup of half-and-half and lightened her coffee even more. “And I guess if a few reported the calls, there were probably more like me who never called him at all.”
“Probably,” Cory agreed. “You look like you slept about as well as I did.”
Marsha’s laugh was short and hollow. “Yeah, we look like a pair of zombies, don’t we? I just couldn’t stop thinking about Jack all night, about all the things he threatened to do to me. But it’s been almost a year, so he probably never wanted to come after me. He just wanted to scare me.”
And Marsha had plenty of reason to be scared, considering the things her ex had done to her. Cory wanted to say something reassuring, but couldn’t. How could she reassure anyone when she was living with a similar terror herself? Her pursuers might have more reason to try to track her, since she could help identify one of them as a murderer, but did that mean Marsha’s ex was necessarily less determined?
“Are you still going to get a dog?”
Marsha nodded. “I called the vet before I came here. He says he has a couple of dogs I might like and that they’re naturally protective breeds.”
“That sounds good.”
“I told him I wanted a big dog, but he recommended against it.”
“Really?”
Marsha gave a small, tired laugh. “He asked me how much I wanted to walk it, and did I want to be able to hold it in my lap...” Her voice broke, then steadied. “Sorry. I’m just tired. But anyway, the idea of a dog that would curl up on my lap sounded good, and with the hours we work, I couldn’t walk a dog at the same time of day every day...” She trailed off, sighed and looked down into her coffee.
All