Death Waxed Over - Tim Myers [19]
Pacing around my apartment that night, I debated calling Heather to see if I could host her cat, Esmeralda, at my place for the next few days. Though I’d never admit it to anyone, being the feline’s designated roommate whenever Heather was away had become an important part of my life at River’s Edge. I’d developed a bond with Esme that had surprised me greatly, since she was the first cat I’d ever warmed up to. Heather had offered to set me up with a cat of my own, but I was afraid my affection didn’t extend to the whole species, just that one particular cat, as cantankerous as she could be at times. I started for the roof a dozen times, but the thought of being high above the world right now wasn’t a pleasant one.
There were only so many steps I could take in my apartment before I started wearing a path in the floor, so I decided to go out. What was the worst that could happen? Well, people could point and stare; they could call me a murderer, or throw rocks at me. Still, I was willing to chance it. I grabbed a baseball cap on my way out and pulled it down low over my eyes. It wouldn’t fool anyone who knew me, but hopefully it would distract everyone else.
I was startled to find Becka approaching the building as I walked out. “Bad timing, I’m just on my way out,” I said, trying to manage a smile for her.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Harrison, I can’t believe this is happening to you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” The last thing I wanted to discuss with Becka was my innocence. “Have you had any more problems with your stalker?”
“Don’t call him that, it gives me the creeps,” she said. “No, I haven’t seen him since I was here. I’m hoping he’s given up on me. Harrison, what are you going to do?”
“If he’s not bothering you, there’s not really anything I can do, is there?”
She touched my arm lightly. “I’m not talking about me; I’m talking about you.”
“I’m going to trust Morton to find Gretel’s killer, Becka. There’s not much I can do on my own.”
She rubbed my arm gently, then started up toward my shoulder when I pulled away. “Listen, I appreciate you coming by, but I’m fine, honest. Like I said, I was just on my way out.”
I could tell she was waiting for an invitation to join me, but I wanted to be alone. Even if I’d been looking for company, I most likely wouldn’t have turned to my ex-girlfriend.
I expected a heated protest from her, but Becka said, “I understand. If you need anything, even if it’s just someone to listen, call me.”
“Thanks,” I said. She got into her car and drove off, and I headed to the parking behind River’s Edge.
I got in Belle’s Ford truck and started driving around Micah’s Ridge, happy for once that night had fallen so early. Usually the winter months depressed me, especially those after Christmas. We’d done well over the holiday season, and I’d wondered what I was going to do with our growing cash reserves. I was glad I’d fought the impulse to squander it on a trip. I’d need every dime I’d banked if things kept going like they were headed. I slowed the truck near A Slice of Heaven—my favorite pizza place in the world—and debated going in. But though I’d felt brave leaving my apartment, I wasn’t ready to throw myself into the thick of humanity, not with the suspicions that were hanging over me. Maybe coming out wasn’t that great an