Waiting for Richard
Excerpt
Location: Sterling, Ohio
“Run!”
said Rita, fear catching in her voice.
“Are
you kidding me?” replied Skye. “I’m too
damn old to run! Want me to have a heart
attack? Fall and break a hip? If some slimy son of a bitch wants a piece of
me that bad, let him come! He’ll be damn
sorry.”
“We
gotta get out of here. I’m scared,” Rita
whispered. Skye pulled out her cell
phone and tapped 9-1-1.
“Yes,
we’re in the underground parking garage of the Sterling City Center and we’re
being chased by a madman with a knife, and my friend here is scared and I’m too
damn old to run. Yes. Skye McKenna.
Sixty-six. Well, I’m glad you
agree that’s too old to run.”
“Help
is on the way, Rita. Calm down.”
“Skye,
you don’t know he has a knife!”
“You’re
absolutely right! He could have a
gun. Shall I call her back and correct
myself?” Sirens were blaring in the
distance.
“Isn’t
this illegal? This is at least a
misdemeanor, if not a felony. Skye! We could end up in jail!”
“Would
you rather be murdered in the underground parking garage?”
“No”
“Then,
cry and sniffle, look weak and helpless, and let me handle Sterling’s
Finest. Damn! If I knew there was a chance we were going to
die on the way to the car, I would’ve had dessert. They make this wonderful strawberry and
mascarpone cream cheese torte in there that is pure heaven on a plate.”
A
police car pulled up the aisle. Skye and
Rita were shouting and waving.
“We’re
here! We’re here. Did you see him? He ran that way,” Skye pointed. One officer, the shorter, younger one, took
off on foot in the direction of Skye’s pointing finger. The taller, older one stayed with them and
tried to calm them down. He walked them
to their car and let them sit to rest.
“It’s
okay, ladies, you’re safe now. Can you
give me a description of this madman with the knife? Height, weight,
clothing?” Rita cried and sniffled,
shaking her head no.
“About
six feet tall, brown hair, brown eyes, stubbly face, jeans, light green
tee-shirt with some band name on it, navy pea coat, old black tennis
shoes. No jewelry. No visible tattoo. Not a bad looking guy.”
“Weight?”
“I’m
no judge of weight. Far be it from me to
attach a number to the human frame. I
know I certainly don’t like it when they do it to me. Not fat, not too skinny, but a slim
build. Just right.”
“Age?”
“Thirties,
I’m guessing here.
“The
knife?”
“Chef’s
knife. Silver handle, scalloped
grip. You can’t buy those individually,
you have to buy the whole set. They come
with a wooden butcher’s block.”
“Did
he brandish the knife at you?”
“Of
course, he did! Do you think we would’ve
called for help if he were just a prep chef taking his chef’s knife out for a
midnight stroll in the underground parking garage? He threatened us.”
“What
did he say?”
“He
said, ‘Die, bitches!’’”
The
other officer came back, shaking his head.
“Couldn’t
find him. I heard running and panting,
though. There was definitely someone out
there who didn’t want to stop and talk to the police. He got away.”
“Were
you in the restaurant?” asked Tall Officer.
Skye and Rita nodded. “Did he
follow you out?” They looked at each
other.
“We
don’t know. We ate too much. We were just about rolling out of there. We weren’t paying any attention,” said Skye. “Officer, we’re really tired. This has been a harrowing experience. We want to go home. If we remember anything else, we’ll call you,
okay?” He took their names and contact
numbers and said he’d be in touch.
“Lock
your doors. Go straight home,
Ladies.” He patted the hood of Skye’s car
and let them go. Skye drove away.
“God,
Skye, I was scared to death! How can you
be so calm?”
“This
isn’t calmness. It’s boredom.”
“How
can you be bored when we’re being followed by a menacing slasher in a dark
underground parking garage at night with a big knife?”
“Did
you ever think he might’ve just been some poor shlub walking to his car? Maybe he had a business dinner, or some other
meeting. Or maybe he works at Sterling
City Center. And, Rita, we didn’t see a
weapon, remember? Just because he was
in the parking garage at the same time as we were doesn’t mean he was after us
or dangerous or a public menace.
“No,
no, Skye. He was! He was looking at me funny. And where did you ever come up with that
description? That was nothing like him.”
“That
cutie pie? Oh, he’s the man in my
head! He’s always there, smiling at
me. That one walking in the garage? I’m not sure that he was after us, or after
anybody.”
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