A smile curved into her features. A few of them, she was certain, would always let her go on purpose. They really wouldn’t want to have her talking to them down at the station.
She slipped out of bed and gathered her clothing quickly-she was just as good at dressing quickly as she was at undressing slowly. His wallet was sitting on the dresser, and she had to pause. She wouldn’t take all his money. Just fifty-the kid would still have over a hundred bucks on him. He probably had no idea of how much money he had left anyway. She also took his credit card. She saw his ID. She smiled. Touching. He was an art major at U of M. Silly kids. They came from other states, and they couldn’t wait to get down to the decadence of Duval Street. It was such a bizarre place. She worked one of the strip clubs. Eighteen-year-olds could walk into any strip club. They couldn’t drink, which meant they couldn’t go into a few of the bars that offered karaoke. Stella found that ironic. Kids could watch strippers, but they couldn’t sing. Well, it worked for her.
She counted the money she’d stuffed into her pocket from the night before. It had been so easy to lift the wallet off that big bruiser-and funny, too, to see the idiot attack the guys walking behind him. What an oaf.
But, thanks to the oaf and the kid, she’d had one hell of a good night. She counted her hundreds, smiled and slipped out the door.
Luckily, he’d been staying at one of the inns right off Duval that had a back entrance. There was a stone wall, but it was low, and she scrambled over it quickly. Coming along the sidewalk, she turned onto Duval Street.
There were a couple of mounted cops down the street, so she slid into a bar. She ordered a beer quickly, and turned her back to the street.
The mounted cops went by.
Stella finished her beer, paid and tipped-she always tipped well-and started out on Duval again.
She swore when she walked right into him.
“Stella,” he said.
He was one of her few johns who wasn’t married. He was a creep. She knew it. Maybe other people didn’t.
“Hey.”
“You smell like stale sex, Stella. Bad booze, bad money and stinky, old sex.”
“Fuck you,” she said, and pushed by him.
Her heart thundered for a minute. He could do bad things if he wanted. But it was broad daylight. Hell, it didn’t matter what the light was.
She quickened her pace, but when she turned around, he wasn’t there. She kept on moving, and passed the church.
She heard the sound of a siren. Damn, the cops!
The ice-cream parlor was right ahead.
She ran inside it, her back to the street.
She winced. Danny, yeah, Danny was supposed to be here!
It didn’t matter; she just needed to stand here for a minute. She set her hands on the counter. It was sticky. She shoved her hands into her pockets, making a face.
The cop car was passing.
Then Danny was back. With that way that he looked at her.
“Ice cream? Really, Stella?”
The way that he looked at her…
He was sad, he was angry.
“Danny-”
The cop car was gone.
“Danny-oh, whatever!” she said.
She turned away, and decided that she really had to get off the main streets. She hurried outside and around the church. She could hear a car, and she started running, paranoid now.
She cut through one of the yards. Damn it-she knew too many men in this town. Knew them too intimately.
Maybe he was in a car. He might have gotten his car, and he could be following her in it now.
No. Why on earth would he do that?
To harass her.
He was a creep.
She cut into a yard and crawled through palms and crotons that grew heavily there. She looked at the street. No car.
She started to turn around, aware of a sound behind her.
She wasn’t able to turn. Something came over her head. A plastic bag. She grabbed at it, incredulous. Hands wound around her neck. The world began to grow black.
It couldn’t be happening…
She was vaguely aware of sirens. She tried to fight; to live. Help was coming. The sirens came closer, closer…
And the sound moved away. Help might be coming for someone, but not for her.
And the blackness swamped over her.
“You’re falling apart-you are simply falling apart,” Bartholomew said. “I’d slap you across the cheek to wake you up and make you see clearly-if I could,” he added sternly.
They were just inside the house, and he was clearly agitated.
“All this time, I keep asking you about the lady in white. She ignores you, you ignore her. Now you have this new ghost appearing and disappearing, and you’ve gone straight to pieces.”
“She’s not just any ghost,” Katie said. “And you saw her last night.”
“I didn’t see her today.”
“You weren’t with me down there when I was diving with David. You’re afraid of the water!” Katie accused him.
“I’m not afraid of it. I can swim,” he argued indignantly. “I can’t see why I should go down getting soaked and wet when there’s no reason for it.”