Till the End of Tom: An Amanda Pepper Mystery by Gillian Roberts

Author:Gillian Roberts [Roberts, Gillian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Women Teachers, Preparatory School Teachers, Mystery & Detective, Philadelphia (Pa.), Women Teachers - Pennsylvania - Philadelphia, Pepper; Amanda (Fictitious Character), General, Mystery Fiction, Women Sleuths, Preparatory School Teachers - Pennsylvania - Philadelphia, Fiction
Publisher: Fawcett
Published: 2004-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Thirteen

* * *

I told Mackenzie about the black sedan, hoping he’d treat it as the imaginings of a ninny, discount it, say something like, “You’re being silly.” All the things I hate for him to think, let alone say, I wanted him to think and say.

Instead, he said to be careful. Be alert. And most important, get the license number. He didn’t mention the obvious, that I should have thought of that myself and have done that already. He is a kind man.

So when I went outside, and started walking home down Market Street, I was both careful and alert.

And I saw it again.

I was nowhere near school now, and in fact, was headed in a completely different direction from it.

He was after me.

I kept my hand on my bag, on a notepad and pen, and I managed to see and write down the first three numbers before the car was too far away.

But on the next block, it was back. I grabbed the notebook again, but I needn’t have hurried, because the car slowed down, then pulled into a parking space at the curb.

I considered turning around and running toward the office, but instead, doubled my pace, dropped the notebook back into my bag, and grabbed my cell phone while I looked for a safe harbor. The pickings were slim: a restaurant not yet open for the evening meal, a locked up realtor’s office, a dusty sporting goods shop that looked so deserted I was sure it was a front for something and not a place to find protection.

A luncheonette across the street was no more prepossessing than the sporting goods shop, but it was open and might at least have more people and better lighting. I crossed the street against the light, horns honking as I dodged and ran. I pushed open the door—and he barreled in behind me.

I didn’t even have time to use my phone. “Call the po—”

“Wait! Don’t!”

I squelched myself mid-shout and turned around.

He looked puzzled. And familiar.

Cornelius.

I clutched the phone and waved it in front of him. “What are you doing, following me around? You want to scare me, but you aren’t!”

“You sure? You look scared right now. And why did you run across traffic to come here? That’s not safe! Do you love this place that much?”

The restaurant looked as if it had been sprayed with grease, and every inhalation was the equivalent of an oil and lube job. A lone customer sat at the counter, and two or three more were in the leatherette booths lining the other wall. They seemed permanent, shell-shocked fixtures vacantly pleased that entertainment had popped through the door.

“Lady, are you all right? He bothering you?” The burly man behind the counter looked willing to go for Cornelius’s throat. I felt vindicated in my choice of safe harbors, but I assured him that I was fine.

“What do you want?” I asked Cornelius in my most authoritarian teacher voice, one I kept in my arsenal but almost never use.

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