“Hey!”
The angry shout startled me out of my reverie. I whipped around and saw a tall, burly man stalking across the parking lot toward me. I glanced to either side and over my shoulder, wondering who he was shouting at.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you!”
I looked behind me again, thinking he had to be yelling at someone else. But I was the only one in the area and he was looking right at me. And getting closer. He wore a baggy pair of blue jeans and a stretched-out, dirty white T-shirt that barely covered his big stomach. A torn and faded flannel shirt completed the look.
At first I thought he was bald, but as he approached I realized that his head was shaved and he was actually pretty young. In his twenties, maybe.
The closer he got, the meaner he looked, and I was growing more alarmed by the nanosecond. I headed quickly toward the stage door and relative safety.
I noticed Benny watching from the shelter of his little booth by the parking lot entrance. I waved my hand frantically until he finally stepped out, but he didn’t come any closer.
“Hold it right there.”
Again I looked around. “Are you talking to me?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” he said, jabbing his finger toward me. “I saw you on TV. That book is mine and so’s the money.”
“I’m not playing dumb,” I said, irritated now. Was I going to be harassed by any big jerk who happened to see me on television? “I don’t know why you’re yelling at me, but I think you’d better leave.”
Benny approached slowly behind the man. Too slowly for my taste. “Uh, everything okay here, Ms. Wainwright?”
“No, Benny,” I said immediately. “I think you’d better call the police.”
The brute moved closer and glowered at me. “If I don’t get what’s mine, I’ll open up a whole can of rude on you.”
“You’ll have to leave, sir,” Benny said nervously. I couldn’t blame him for being afraid. The guy towered over both of us.
“I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”
“What is it you want, sir?” Benny asked cautiously.
He ignored Benny and stuck his huge sweaty face inches away from mine. “I want that book. Hand it over now or I’ll kill you.”
Chapter Four
Uttering a tiny shriek, I inched backward. “Get away from me.”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Benny said with all the authority he could muster, and grabbed the man’s arm.
The big guy yanked himself free. “Not until I get my property.”
“Call the police, Benny,” I said urgently.
“Good idea, miss.” He spun around and jogged away, leaving me alone to face the guy. It wasn’t exactly my plan to be left alone with the guy, but I couldn’t blame old Benny. He’d probably never experienced one minute of real danger in all the years he’d worked here. But couldn’t he carry a cell phone, at least?
The stranger watched Benny run back to his booth and I managed to slide past him and make it to the heavy stage door that led into the studio. I grabbed the door handle but it wouldn’t budge. At that very instant, an earsplitting siren blasted once.
“Damn it,” I muttered. The siren went silent, but the bright red light over the door began to twirl, signifying that they had started taping another segment of the show.
Which meant that they wouldn’t unlock the door until they were finished. So I was stuck out here for at least five minutes, maybe longer.
“Looks like you and me have time for a little talk,” my attacker said.
“The police are on their way.” I set my heavy computer case down and folded my arms tightly. I was two steps up from him and could look him in the eyes. “You’re trespassing and threatening me and I don’t even know who you are. But I do know that the book doesn’t belong to you. It doesn’t belong to me, either. And even if it did, do you really think I’d hand it over to you?”
“That woman, that bitch, I saw her on the show. She stole that book from me.”
“She didn’t steal it. She bought it at a garage sale.”
For a brief moment, he looked puzzled and uncomfortable; then he sputtered, “She stole it!”
The light dawned. “You’re the one who sold it to her.”
He looked befuddled again. Then his face turned even redder. “I didn’t sell it to her!”
He didn’t seem too smart but he was definitely mean. You’re an idiot, I thought, but wisely kept my mouth shut. His face was a blend of humiliation and a growing temper made up of fury and frustration.
“That bitch is gonna be sorry she ever went on that show.”
“You’ve already threatened me,” I said, leaning backward to put more space between us. “Don’t think I won’t tell the police.”