The Stranger In Room 205 (Hot off the Press! 1)

“You were frowning as though you were straining to remember something vitally important.”

He didn’t quite know how to respond to that except to say, “Was I?”

He should have remembered that it annoyed Serena when he responded to her comments with cryptic questions. She sighed. “Do you want anything to eat? They’re selling ice cream bars and popcorn for those who like to snack during the fireworks show.”

Shaking his head, he declined politely. “I ate too much earlier. The fireworks should be starting soon, shouldn’t they?”

“Another ten or fifteen minutes, I think. They’ll turn the stadium lights off just before the fireworks start.”

Serena’s estimate had been accurate. It was just over ten minutes later when the big lights flashed a couple of times, then went out, leaving the stadium darkened except for a few security lights at either end. Taped patriotic music swelled through somewhat scratchy speakers, and a ripple of anticipation went through the crowd. The scent of insect repellant was heavy around them; folks had been splashing and spraying since sunset, even though Sam hadn’t been bothered by the bloodthirsty critters. He could still smell watermelon and smoldering charcoals, along with the slightest hint of plain old sweat. The air smelled like the Fourth of July, he thought, then wondered how he knew that.

The fireworks show began with a noisy eruption of light and color. The crowd obligingly oohed and aahed. Sam remembered fireworks. He enjoyed them. But even more than the intricately designed explosions, he enjoyed watching Serena’s face during the show. The fireworks reflected in her widened eyes and illuminated her fair skin. When he’d first seen her, he’d thought her very pretty. As he’d gotten to know her better, he’d realized that she was quite beautiful.

It was hard to look away from her. He didn’t want to be too obvious about it. Her friends were curious enough. Besides, he was aware that she was surreptitiously watching him in return.

The fireworks display ended with a suitably awe-inspiring finale and the national anthem. Brought to their feet, the crowd applauded, then began to gather their belongings and move toward the exits. Sam was am

azed by how quickly the stadium emptied. Having bade good evening to her friends, Marjorie rejoined Serena and Sam, looking as if she’d enjoyed herself immensely. “Did you kids have fun?”

“I did,” Sam assured her. “And you?”

“Oh, I had a wonderful time. Serena, did you know Virginia’s granddaughter, Melinda, is already filing for a divorce? Rumor has it that her new husband never really broke things off with his old girlfriend, if you know what I mean.”

Serena motioned toward the nearest exit gate. “You can tell me all the latest gossip on the way home, if you want.”

They were walking through the shadowy, rapidly emptying parking lot when Sam’s attention was captured by a familiar young voice. “I’m sorry,” the kid was saying. “I didn’t mean to—it was an accident.”

“You little brat, you spilled grape soda all over my lawn chair. That purple stuff will never come off the fabric. I knew I should’ve made you sit on the ground, but your mama said you had to have a chair like the rest of us. Now you’ve ruined it.”

“It was an accident, Delbert,” the boy insisted, looking apprehensive, Sam thought. “Someone bumped the back of the chair, and the drink spilled.”

Sam immediately identified the sandy-haired kid as Zach, the boy he’d met outside the candy store. He had turned just in time to see a big-bellied man with thinning hair pulled into a scraggly ponytail reach out to give the boy a shove that nearly knocked him off his feet.

“How many times have I told you to be careful with my stuff?” the guy roared. “You’re going to pay for this chair, you hear me? Even if I gotta take it outta your hide.”

A woman with bleached blond hair, too-tight clothes and a whiny voice stood nearby, wringing her hands. “He said he didn’t mean to, Delbert.”

“Shut up. It ain’t your chair he messed up. I told you he didn’t need one, but I let you talk me into it, and now look what happened.”

“But he—”

The big man threw the folded, green-fabric-covered lawn chair at her. She barely caught it before it hit her. “Put that in the back of the truck, then get inside,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of your kid, since you ain’t going to.”

“Can’t we just go home?” Zach asked miserably, noticing Sam watching them. “Everybody’s looking at us. I’ll try to clean the chair when we get home.”

“I don’t give a damn who’s looking at us,” Delbert snarled, turning on the boy, his hand poised for a back-handed slap. “You ain’t running things around here, you little—”

Sam caught the guy’s swinging hand in midair. “You might want to reconsider that move,” he advised coldly, too furious to care that he was hardly a physical match for this man who had a couple of inches of height and maybe fifty pounds of weight advantage.

Sam would be damned if he was going to stand by and watch this jerk hit a defenseless little kid, even if interfering landed him back in the hospital.

Chapter Ten

Delbert had never heard Sam approach, obviously. He shook off Sam’s hand. “Who the hell are you?” he asked. Though alcoholic beverages had been prohibited at the festivities, this guy’s breath and behavior indicated he’d found a way to smuggle some in.

“The name’s Sam. And I think you’d better cool off before you do something you’ll regret.”

“You’re going to regret you ever came here tonight if you don’t butt out of my business.” Delbert turned to give Zach another shove that nearly knocked the boy down. “Get in the damned truck.”