?? the boat for a few hours. Sneaky college mischief.
“My great-granddaddy says drifting downstream in a rowboat doesn’t count against your life span,” Roe said. “It’s a great idea, Tommy. Let’s go for it.”
Tom Hutchinson started to laugh. “What if you do other things in said boat?” he asked.
“Well, if that includes aerobics of any sort, it might actually extend your life span.” Roe’s skirt rustled against her smooth thighs as she crossed her legs.
“Then stealing off in these nice people’s boat for a moonlight ride is a good idea,” said Tom.
“Great idea.” Roe held her ground. “The best. Let’s do it.”
As their rowboat left the dock, the Gentleman slipped into the water. He made no sound. He listened to every word, every movement, and every nuance of the lovers’ fascinating courting ritual.
There was almost a full moon, and it looked serene and beautiful to Tom and Roe as they slowly paddled out into the glistening lake. Earlier in the evening they had gone out for a romantic dinner in Chapel Hill, and they were both dressed to the hilt. Roe had on a pleated black skirt, a cream-colored silk blouse, silver shell earrings, and her roommate’s dress pearls. Perfect boating attire.
The Gentleman’s best guess was that Tom Hutchinson didn’t even own the gray suit that he had on. Tom came from Pennsylvania. He was an auto mechanic’s son who had made it to captain of the Duke football team, and had also managed to keep a grade index bordering on 4.0.
Roe and Tom were the “golden couple.” It was just about the only thing that students from Duke and the nearby University of North Carolina could agree on. The “scandal” of Duke’s football captain dating Carolina’s Azalea Queen made the romance even spicier.
They fumbled with uncooperative buttons and zippers as they slowly drifted on the lake. Roe wound up wearing only her earrings and the borrowed dress pearls. Tom had on his white shirt, but it was open all the way, making a kind of tent as he went inside Roe. Under the moon’s watchful eye, they began to make love.
Their bodies moved smoothly as the boat rocked gently and playfully. Roe made tiny moaning sounds, which intermingled with a chorus of cicadas playing shrilly in the distance.
The Gentleman felt a column of rage welling up inside him. His dark side was bursting through: the brutal, repressed animal, the modern-day werewolf.
Suddenly, Tom Hutchinson flopped out of Roe Tierney with a tiny thup. Something powerful was pulling him out of the boat. Before he hit the water, Roe heard him yell. It was a strange noise that sounded like yaaagghh.
Tom swallowed lake water and gagged violently. There was a terrible pain and stinging in his throat, localized pain, but very intense and frightening.
Then, whatever powerful force had pulled him backwards into the lake suddenly released him. The choking pressure left him. Just like that. He was being set free.
His large strong hands, quarterback hands, went up to his throat and touched something warm. Blood was gushing out of his throat and spreading through the lake water. A terrible fear, a feeling close to panic, gripped him.
Horrified, he felt his throat again and found the knife embedded there. Oh, Jesus God, he thought, I’ve been stabbed. I’m going to die at the bottom of this lake, and I don’t even know why.
In the rocking, drifting rowboat, meanwhile, Roe Tierney was too confused and shocked even to scream.
Her heart was pounding so rapidly and fiercely, she could hardly breathe. She stood up in the boat frantically searching for some sign of Tom.
This must be a sick joke, she thought. I will never go out with Tom Hutchinson again. Never marry him. Never in a million years. This is not funny. She was freezing, and she began to grope for her clothes in the bottom of the boat.
Swiftly, close to the boat, someone or something burst out of the black-looking water. It felt like an explosion under the lake.
Roe saw a head bobbing above the surface. Definitely a man’s head… but it wasn’t Tom Hutchinson.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” The Gentleman spoke softly, almost conversationally. “Don’t be alarmed,” he whispered as he reached for the gunwale of the rocking boat. “We’re old friends. To be perfectly honest, I’ve watched you for over two years.”
Suddenly Roe started to scream as if there were no tomorrow.
For Roe Tierney, there wasn’t.
PART ONE
SCOOTCHIE CROSS
CHAPTER 1
Washington, D.C., April 1994