“Hysteria!” Hilary said. “God, I’m sick of that word! Everyone thinks I panicked. Everyone’s so damned sure I was reduced to a blubbering mess. Well, of all the women I know, I’m the one least likely to lose my head in a situation like that.”
“I agree with you,” Tony said. “I’m just telling you how Harry sees it.”
“Damn.”
“Exactly.”
“And your support didn’t mean a thing?”
Tony grimaced. “He thinks that, because of what happened to Frank, I’m not entirely myself.”
“So he’s saying you’re hysterical.”
“Just upset. A little confused.”
“Is that really what he said?”
“Yeah.”
Remembering that Tony had used those same words to describe her when he’d first heard her story about a walking dead man, she said, “Maybe you deserved that.”
“Maybe I did.”
“What did Lubbock say when you told him about the threats–the stake through the heart, the mouth full of garlic, all of that stuff?”
“He agreed it was a striking coincidence.”
“Just that? Just a coincidence?”
“For the time being,” Tony said, “that’s how he’s going to look at it.”
“Damn.”
“He didn’t say it straight out, but I’m pretty sure he thinks that, last week some time, I told you what was found in Frye’s van.”
“But you didn’t.”
“You know I didn’t, and I know I didn’t. But I suppose that’s the way it’s going to look to everyone else.”
“But I thought you said that you and Lubbock were close, that there was a lot of mutual respect.”
“We are, and there is,” Tony replied. “But like I told you, he thinks I’m not myself right now. He figures I’ll get my head on straight in a few days or a week, when the shock of my partner’s death subsides. He thinks then I’ll change my mind about supporting your story. I’m sure I won’t because I know you weren’t aware of the occult books and bric-a-brac in Frye’s van. And I’ve got a hunch, too, a very strong hunch that Frye somehow has come back. God knows how. But I need more than a hunch to sway Harry, and I can’t blame him for being skeptical.”
“In the meantime?”
“In the meantime, the homicide squad has no interest in the case. It doesn’t come under our jurisdiction. It’ll be handled like any other break-in and attempted assault by a person or persons unknown.”
Hilary frowned. “Which means not much of anything will be done.”
“Unfortunately, I’m afraid that’s true. There’s almost nothing the police can do with a complaint like this one. This sort of thing is usually solved, if ever, a long way down the line, when they catch the guy in the act, breaking and entering another house or assaulting another woman, and he confesses to a lot of old, unsolved cases.”
Hilary got up from the stool and began to pace in the small kitchen. “Something strange and frightening is happening here. I can’t wait a week for you to convince Lubbock. Frye said he’d be back. He’s going to keep trying to kill me until one of us is dead–permanently and irrevocably dead. He could pop up anytime, anywhere.”
“You won’t be in danger if you stay here until we can puzzle this out,” Tony said, “or at least until we come up with something that’ll convince Harry Lubbock. You’ll be safe here. Frye–if it is Frye–won’t know where to find you.”
“How can you be sure of that?” she asked.
“He’s not omniscient.”
“Isn’t he?”
Tony scowled. “Wait a minute now. You aren’t going to tell me that he has supernatural powers or second sight or something like that.”
“I’m not going to tell you that, and I’m not going to rule it out either,” she said. “Listen, once you’ve accept the fact that Frye is somehow alive, how can you rule out anything? I might even start believing in gnomes and goblins and Santa Claus. But what I meant was–maybe he simply followed us here.”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “Followed us from your house?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“Are you positive?”
“When I arrived at your place, he ran away.”
She stopped pacing, stood in the middle of the kitchen, hugging herself. “Maybe he hung around the neighborhood, just watching, waiting to see what we’d do and where we’d go.”