The 9th Judgment (Women's Murder Club 9) - Page 58
When the voices faded, Sarah broke diagonally across a yard full of kiddie toys to a metal gate, which she opened. The gate latch clanked. A big dog barked behind a door. Security lights blazed.
Sarah skirted the reach of the lights, running through shadows into another yard, where she tripped over a garden cart, falling hard enough for her right shoe to fly off her foot. She felt for the shoe in the dark but couldn’t find it.
A woman’s shrill voice called out, “Artie, I think someone’s out there!”
Sarah vaulted over a fence, then took off again, ripping off her black sweater as she ran. She pulled the hem of her neon-green T-shirt out of her pants as she came out of the shadows onto a street she didn’t know.
Feeling nauseous and desperate, Sarah stripped off her other shoe and her socks and left them in a trash can at the edge of a driveway, then headed north at a steady pace in the general direction of her car.
That was when she realized, too late, that her keys were in her tool bag and she’d locked her wallet in the glove box.
She was shoeless and miles from home without a dime.
What now?
Chapter 81
THE BRIGHT WINDOWS at Whole Foods were in sight when Sarah heard a car slowly coming up behind her on the dark street. The vehicle crawled, keeping pace with her, its headlights elongating her silhouette on the pavement.
Was it the cops?
Half out of her mind with fear, Sarah fought her compulsion to turn toward the car. Panic would show on her face. And if it was the cops and they stopped to question her—she was cooked.
Who was it? Who was trailing her?
A horn blared and then tires squealed as the vehicle behind her peeled out and flew past, an old silver SUV with a jerk hollering out the window, “Sweet ass, baby!” Sarah lowered her head as whoops of laughter receded.
Her red Saturn was where she had left it. She could see, by peering through Whole Foods’ front windows, that the store was nearly empty.
A sandy-haired boy was closing down the last open register. He looked up when Sarah approached. She said, “I locked myself out of my car. Could I borrow your phone?”
“There’s a pay phone outside,” he said, cocking a thumb over his shoulder. Then his expression changed.
“Ms. Wells. I’m Mark Ogrodnick. I was in your class about five years ago.”
Sarah’s heart revved up again and went into overdrive. Of all the stores in the world, how had she found the one place in Pacific Heights where someone knew her?
“Mark. Great to see you. May I borrow your phone? I have to call my husband.”
Mark stared down at her bare feet, at the bleeding gash on her shin. He opened his mouth and closed it, then fished his phone out of his back pocket and handed it to Sarah. She thanked him and walked down the produce aisle, dialing and then listening to the phone ring several times. Finally Heidi picked up.
“It’s me,” Sarah said. “I’m at Whole Foods. I locked myself out of my car.”
“Oh God, Sarah,” Heidi said. “I can’t come. The kids are sleeping.”
“Where’s Beastly?”
“He’s out, but he could walk in at any minute. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I love you. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you, too.”
Ogrodnick looked up and switched off the neon light in the storefront window. Sarah had no choice. She dialed her home phone number and, for the first time ever, prayed that Trevor would pick up.
“Sarah, where the hell are you?” Terror asked with a sharp edge in his voice.
Meekly, Sarah told him.
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