Archie and his work friends were sitting in the dining room, all laughing about some crazy school story that you must have had to have been there to enjoy because I didn’t find many of their stories to be terribly amusing, although Margie and her fiancé, Doug, seemed entertained, too. I let them enjoy their stories and moved on to the living room. In there, Rachel and Mary sat on the sofa and Nathaniel, the college age son of one of the couples Archie invited, was in the chair next to them, playing a board game, but in my fuzzy state, I didn’t know which one. Rachel looked very happy in her sparkly silver dress and her hair hanging long down her back. She also appeared to really enjoy looking at cute Nathaniel. Ah, young love.
John and Debra had left early since Debra got a migraine. I had stumbled back to the kitchen to retrieve another piece of cheese when the doorbell rang. I went to the front door and opened it. John was standing there.
“I thought you left,” I said, staring at him.
“I did, but I’m back,” he replied. His lips curved into an odd smile. “It’s not quite New Year yet.”
“Yeah,” I said, turning back into the house. John grabbed my arm. “Hey.” I snatched it back.
“Oh, sorry, you seem a little off balance,” he said.
I rolled my eyes but stumbled over something. John steadied me and led me outside, closing the door behind him. The gust of cold air alerted me, chilling me through the thin red V-neck sweater dress I wore. I turned to go back inside, but John blocked my entry.
“I’ve been waiting to tell you this, but you’re never alone,” he hissed. “Always Archie or that Amish girl hanging around.”
“What?” I snapped. “Get out of my way, John.”
He didn’t budge. He put his hands on either side of my face and stared into my eyes. A deep, disturbing stare. “I saw you. I know what you did.”
I dodged right, but his hands dropped from my face to my arms. He held me tight. I couldn’t move.
“What the fuck, John.” I struggled. “Let me go, you freak.”
“That’s what you always thought about me, wasn’t it? What you told Robin about me. That’s why she didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to go out with me,” he bellowed. “It was you!”
“No, she just didn’t like you!” I screamed, hoping someone inside would hear.
He put his hand over my mouth and hissed again, this time into my ear. “I know what you did, but I don’t know why. You were at Robin’s that night she died. You killed her.”
I vigorously shook my head. He released his hand. “No, I stopped by earlier, and she was fine. I told the cops that. It’s not a secret.”
“Not then, later,” he said.
“I wasn’t there later,” I replied. I glared at him. “Where were you? Watching her? Maybe you killed her. You knew about her nut allergy. And she didn’t want you.”
“Because of you!” he growled.
Goosebumps flooded my skin, partly because of the cold, partly because John was scaring the hell out of me. How do I get away from him?
The front door opened. Archie was standing there, looking confused. Oh, thank goodness. I broke away and ran into the warm house.
“Archie, John was just about to leave,” I said in a loud voice. “Goodnight, John!”
I slammed the door in his face.
I woke up in my warm bed, Archie slightly snoring beside me. I got up, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and pulled my pink terrycloth bathrobe on over my light green cotton pajamas, then padded downstairs. Surprisingly, the kitchen was in neat order. All debris had been thrown out, dishes humming in the dishwasher, counters wiped clean. Fresh coffee sat in a pot, waiting for me. Sweet, sweet Rachel.
She walked out from the living room, also in a bathrobe wrapped around pajamas, holding a mug of coffee.
“Good morning, Aimee.” She smiled. “Thought I’d tidy up a bit.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, pouring a mug of coffee. “It was a nice surprise.”
“Thank you for inviting me to your party,” she said. “I had so much fun. So did Mary.”
“Good. It looked like you talked to Nathaniel quite a bit,” I remarked.
She blushed. “Yes, he’s going to call me sometime.”
“Wow, that’s great,” I said.
I was glad she’d had a good time, but I had bigger issues.
John.
The freak.
Last night after I slammed the door in his face, Archie went back to his group in the dining room and I stood by the side window, in the foyer, after locking the door, and watched John as he walked to his car and drove out the lane.
What the hell was all that about last night?
He thought I had something to do with Robin’s death. Was he out of his mind?
He never answered my question. Where was he when he supposedly saw me go to Robin’s house? Along the road, in the field, maybe hiding in the house?
The image of the bag of dates popped into my mind.
The bag inside Robin’s refrigerator.
