“Cam. Cameron.”
“That’s a pretty weird name. Cam Cameron.”
“Stop teasing, Dad. It’s Cam, short for Cameron.”
“Oh. Okay. Nice guy?”
“I think so. This really weird thing happened, tonight. Like, he wanted to protect me.”
The side of my face throbbed. Did I really want to ask about this? It would seem strange for me not to. “What happened?” I sounded very concerned, and realized, very shortly, I was going to have to explain the bruise on the side of my face.
“You know when I called earlier, and thought I was being followed by somebody, and then the car turned down another street?”
“Sure.”
“So Cam and I, we went into this McDonald’s, and he sees the car go by the window, and he like freaks out, goes out after the guy.”
“You’re kidding. You sure it was the same car?”
“I didn’t even see it go by, but Cam, he’s positive, he knows cars way better than I do, I can’t tell one from another, and he goes out there and starts screaming at this guy, and hauls off and punches him right in the head.”
“Did you get a look at the guy?” I asked Angie. Not that it was going to matter for very much longer.
“No. I was just running outside when the car took off. But how many guys would do that for you. Huh? I mean, I couldn’t believe he did that for me.”
“Sounds like an amazing guy.” Neither of us spoke for a moment as I sped down the road. “You know, Angie, I think I should probably tell you—”
“Oh God, you’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“It’s him.”
I held my breath. “Who? Who is it?”
Angie’s voice became more distant. She was talking to someone else, not to me. “Hey, Trevor. What are you doing here?”
“Hey,” I could hear him say. “I was going by, saw you, thought I’d say hi. What are you doing way out here? You out here all alone? Because you shouldn’t be out here at night all alone.”
“Just a sec, I’m talking to my dad. Dad, you hear that?”
“Trevor’s there,” I said, getting a very large knot in the center of my chest.
“Yeah. Pretty amazing, huh? Hang on, I think he wants to talk to you.”
“Why does he want to talk to—”
There was some rustling as the cell phone changed hands. Trevor said, “Hello, Mr. Walker. How are you doing this evening?”
“Trevor, what are you doing there?” I eased my foot down a little harder down on the accelerator.
“I saw Angie, out here all alone, and thought I should stop. It’s not good for her to be out here all alone.”
“I’m on my way there right now, Trevor. So you don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“I’ll stay here with her until you get here.”
“Sure, Trevor. Give the phone back to Angie.”
More rustling. “Hey, Dad.”
“You okay? He acting weird or anything? He’s not threatening you or anything like that?”
“God no. He’s just . . . hang on. Trevor, I have to talk to my dad.” There was a distant humming sound. “I just put the window up. How does he fucking find me everywhere? He’s so creepy, Dad. I’ve had it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need to do something to keep him away from me. He’s really freaking me out.”
“I know. I think we have to do something about him, honey. This kind of thing can’t go on.”
“It’s so, it’s just so, I don’t know. What the . . . Did you already call the auto club or something?”
“No. Why?”
“Some big truck or something’s stopped behind me. He’s got me boxed in. Well, not exactly. I mean, if the car doesn’t work, I guess I can’t really go anyplace.”
I swallowed hard. “What kind of truck? Is it a tow truck or something?”
“No, hang on.” I could hear her shifting in her seat. “It’s like an SUV or something, a huge black one.”
“Angie, did you say a black SUV?”
“Yeah, but bigger than normal ones, you know?”
“Is it an Annihilator?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what these things are called. Hang on, somebody’s getting out, coming up to the window. Whoa, there’s a couple guys getting out.”
“Angie, what do they look like?”
“Look like? I don’t know. Just some guys in black jackets, that’s all.”
“Angie, don’t open the window, and lock the doors.”
“I think they just want to ask me some questions or something. What a hoot, if they think I can give them directions, what with my sense of direction—”
“Angie, don’t put down the window!”
“Yeah?” I heard Angie say to someone.
Then I heard some muffled voices. And then Angie again: “Hey, back off, man, I’m not getting out—”
“Angie!” I shouted into my cell.
“Get your fucking hands off me, ass—”
“Angie!”
Then I heard my daughter scream. And then the line went dead.
27
IMMEDIATELY I PHONED Angie’s cell back. It rang four times, and then she answered.
“Hi, it’s Angie.”
“Angie, Jesus, what’s going—”