Copy Cap Murder: A Hat Shop Mystery Part 20

"I'll be back shortly," I said. "Two orders of falafel coming up."

Fee had already left for the day; otherwise I would have picked up an order for her, too.

"Thank you," Viv said. "Don't forget the salad."

"Just make sure you mind the store. No locking the door as soon as I'm out of sight." At her outraged expression, I knew that was exactly what she had planned to do. Channeling Mim's most disapproving expression, I wagged my finger at her and said, "No."

She crossed her arms over her chest and heaved a sigh. I waved to her through the gla.s.s as the door shut behind me.

The restaurant wasn't that far away but the night air was as brisk as I'd feared-that's a lie, it was downright cold-so I hurried my pace, hoping that the exercise would warm me up.

With most of the shops closed or about to close, the street was quiet. I hurried down the uneven sidewalk being careful not to trip. The streetlights on Portobello Road were designed to look old-fas.h.i.+oned but cast much brighter light.

With the old stone buildings all around me, it was easy to pretend I had fallen back in time. Viv and I used to do this to amuse ourselves when we were girls. Being just a few years younger than Prince Will and Prince Harry, we spent an awful lot of our girlhood devoted to daydreaming about our weddings to them.

Because she was older and one hundred percent British, Viv felt that Will was hers, but I argued that since Harry and I are both gingers, our babies would come out with hair like flames, which was just too much. Viv reluctantly agreed, although as the years pa.s.sed, I think she became more enamored of Harry and his shenanigans. They have the same sort of impulsive streak.

Of course, when we went whole hog into our daydreams, we were always on our way to a ball at Buckingham Palace, wearing big meringue-style gowns and being picked up in a horse-drawn carriage. Yeah, our fantasies might have been influenced by Mim's romance novels, which we devoured as young teens.

Viv always wore a gown of the palest gossamer blue, while I went for pink. Yes, pink, a very pale fragile pink so as not to clash with my hair, but it was always pink. I have mentioned my pink phase, haven't I? Mim, bless her heart, never said a word. She let me wear the boldest shades of pink I could find, as if she had faith that someday I would develop some taste for fas.h.i.+on. I am definitely a work in progress but I like to think I am getting there.

At the corner of Portobello Road and Westbourne Grove, I had to cross the street as the sidewalk was blocked by construction on a storefront. This area was dark as the brick apartments on my right were hemmed in by large thick hedges and a black wrought iron fence. I slowed my pace, since I could feel my heart beating and I was quite warm after the brisk start to my walk.

The brick apartments were set back a bit and I pa.s.sed a small fenced-in garden, which was looking very barren now. I glanced through the wrought iron. The small dried-up lawn was deserted, not a surprise given the cold. This was exactly the sort of spot where Viv and I would have spun our fairy tales, in fact, we probably did spend more than a few hours in this very one, playing with the kids who lived in the flats above. We would have taken turns, me playing Harry to her princess and her playing Will to mine.

I smiled. I missed the simplicity of those days when life was filled with daydreams of princes, not murderers on the loose. I walked on, feeling the cold catching up to me when I paused. Harrison hadn't been in touch and I wondered if he'd be at the shop when I returned. The desire to see him made me pick up my pace again.

I wasn't sure when exactly I picked up on the fact that someone was following me, but I was very close to the Westway overpa.s.s when I got the creepy feeling that someone was moving up behind me. I walked faster. So did they. I didn't think it was a coincidence.

My heart started to beat faster. While my rational side argued that I was being ridiculous, my instincts were screaming that I was in danger. Instinct won and I broke into a run. The person behind me did, too, and that's when I knew I was in trouble.

Chapter 23.

Panic made my heart pound in my ears. I dashed down the sidewalk, clutching my purse, trying to decide if it was heavy enough to use as a weapon. Mostly, though, I was hoping to get to the other side of the underpa.s.s, where someone might see that I was in trouble.

I could feel the person gaining on me. He was huffing and puffing and sounded like a big, burly man. I had visions of him stealing my purse then snapping me like a pretzel just because he could.

"Oy! Move aside, lady, I'm trying to catch my bus!"

I jerked to the side, and he swerved around me, das.h.i.+ng toward the corner and waving his arm, signaling to the double-decker bus up ahead that was slowly pulling away. He shouted and waved and chased it down, while I collapsed against the brick wall beside me.

Clearly, Simms warning me about the murderer being on the loose had gotten into my head. Boy, did I feel stupid. I trudged on to the restaurant up ahead cheered by its bright green exterior just beyond the dark tunnel of the underpa.s.s. I whistled my way there, reminding myself that I was just jumpy from shadows, nothing more.

I checked the time on my phone. I had a half hour until they closed. I ordered for Viv and me and waited while they bagged it up. I hoped it stayed warm on the five-minute walk back, but since Viv had been so insistent on falafel, she had no right to complain if it was cold when I arrived.

Back into the underpa.s.s I went. I could smell the food and was tempted to open the bag and just take a nibble, but then the food would get cold and I figured it would be rude to eat without waiting for Viv, tempting as it may be.

The street was quiet. I pa.s.sed a couple, who looked cozy with his arm about her shoulders, holding her close as they walked in step either home to snuggle or out for an evening on the town. I felt a pang of jealousy, but I forced it aside. I refused to feel sorry for myself because I was single. I liked being single. Really, I did.

Okay, that's another lie. I didn't really like it, but I liked it better than my last relations.h.i.+p, so that was saying something, right? I mean if you have to choose between a no-good, cheating scoundrel and being alone, trust me when I tell you being alone is so much better.

Of course, then there was Harry. If I had to choose between being alone and being with Harry, well, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that I would choose Harry. He was funny, smart, kind and definitely easy on the eyes. A spasm of anxiety gripped my middle. What if someone snapped him up while I was doing my alone thing?

I shook my head. If that happened then Harry clearly wasn't the man for me. Oh, I didn't like the pang of sad that came along with that thought. Maybe I needed to call my mother and beg her to let me out of my no dating promise. She would gloat. Was Harry worth that?

Yes, he was, but what if we didn't work out and I had to listen to my mother's "I knew you couldn't do it" for the rest of my life? This made me think the situation needed careful examination, preferably over a bottle of wine or two with my friends.

Lost in thought, I was surprised when I arrived at the construction site at the corner of Westbourne Grove. I didn't feel like crossing the street. Since there was no traffic, I stepped out onto the road to go around the rickety scaffolding. It was built so that pedestrians could go under it, but it always gave me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s, like it was just waiting for me to step under it so it could collapse.

I was halfway past when out of the darkness a figure jumped out at me. I started and opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. The face staring back at me was terrifying with pale skin, arching eyebrows, a smirking mouth with a curved mustache and a long chin patch. It took me a second to realize it was a Guy Fawkes mask just like the one that had been on Winthrop Dashavoy's face at the bonfire party. Then I screamed.

The stranger lunged toward me. I stumbled back into the road. He came after me. A car beeped and swerved, barely missing me. The man ducked back into the shadows. I took the opportunity to dash across the street. Two of the modern-style red phone booths were on the corner. If I could just get inside one, he wouldn't be able to grab me.

I ran. I heard him right behind me. I dodged to the right and then darted left into the booth. I thought I had fooled him but he was quick. Before I could shut the door, he grabbed the handle of the food bag. I held on until he yanked and then I let go. When he fell backward, I slammed the door shut.

He came at the gla.s.s door as if he had every intention of smas.h.i.+ng it to get to me. I yelled for help but I doubted anyone could hear me. He was stronger than I was. I could feel my gloves slipping off the door handle as we engaged in a tug-of-war. I didn't know how much longer I could hang on, but I knew for certain that if I let go, I was dead.

He loomed up close to the gla.s.s and I could see his eyes moving behind the slits in the mask. The evil smirk was terrifying and I wondered if it was the last thing I'd see before I died.

"What do you want from me?" I cried.

He yanked on the door handle. It almost opened. I yelped and pulled it shut. My muscles were shaking and I didn't think I could hold on much longer.

"Why are you doing this?" I yelled. My frustration dried up any would-be tears and I started to lose my temper. I was terrified and it made me want to hurt him.

"Who are you?" I bellowed. "You're not scaring me!"

He slammed his face up against the gla.s.s and I shrieked and reared back. I let go of the door handle and he yanked it open. I screamed as he reached inside to grab me. I tried to evade his hand like a mouse hiding in its cage.

"Scarlett!"

"Oy, you there, get away from her!"

Two male voices, which were now the sweetest sounds I'd ever heard, called from nearby. My attacker punched the side of the booth, barely missing my head, before he darted off down Westbourne Grove.

A pair of arms reached into the phone booth and pulled me out. I was shaking and tears and snot were coursing down my face.

"It's all right, love, I've got you." Nick pulled me up against his chest. The comforting scratch of his dark wool coat brushed my cheek as a sob of relief welled up inside me and came out in a series of pants and hiccups.

"I'm going after him," Andre yelled.

"Be careful," Nick said.

I heard Andre's feet pounding the pavement in the same direction the masked man had taken. I wanted to shout at him not to go. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him, but I couldn't seem to find my voice.

"It's all right," Nick said. "Andre can handle himself."

I wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, me or him.

"Come here," Nick said. "Let me examine you under the light. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

My face was mashed against his coat. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to be looked over. I just wanted to be absorbed into the fibers of black wool until I was invisible.

"I'm fine," I talked into his jacket.

"What's that?" he asked. "I couldn't quite make it out. It sounded like you need a pint."

That surprised a chuckle out of me and I leaned back and looked at him. He was wearing a silly Fair Isle knit hat with earflaps and a pom on the top. I couldn't believe Andre had agreed to be seen with him looking like that.

Nick's gaze was so kind and caring it almost made me blubber. He ran his hands over my arms and checked me over for wounds and breaks. I could have told him that the only thing broken was my sense of safety on the streets I had walked ever since I was a girl with never a moment of fear until now.

"All right, Scarlett?" he asked.

I nodded. My throat still felt too constricted to get the words out and it was taking everything I had to keep from falling apart and dissolving into a bucket of tears.

"It's a good thing Viv told us what you were about," he said. "We were hoping to meet up with you and grab take-away together."

So it hadn't been happenstance that they found me. Still I felt lucky. I didn't know for sure what my attacker had planned but I didn't think I was overreacting to fear it was bad.

I started to get the trembles and could feel my knees knocking together. I didn't know how much longer I could stand there without running away, screaming into the night. Fortunately, Andre came das.h.i.+ng back to us, forcing me to pull it together.

"He lost me," he said. He was breathing hard and he leaned on the side of the phone booth and lowered his head. He stared up at me and asked, "Was he wearing what I think he was wearing?"

"A Guy Fawkes mask?" I asked. My voice came out unnaturally high. "Yes."

"Gor!" Nick exclaimed. "I didn't see his face. That would have scared me witless."

I nodded. Yeah, I was pretty much there. As if he understood, Andre put his arm around me and pulled me close.

"Call the others," he said to Nick. "Let's take our girl home."

I glanced at the ground where Viv's and my food sat in ruins. Not only had my a.s.sailant scared me stupid, he smashed dinner.

Following my line of sight, Andre said, "Your falafel?"

"It was once," I said.

"Don't get in a fizz," he said. "Nick and I will get dinner sorted."

"Viv is going to be so disappointed," I said.

Andre scooped up the crushed bags and tossed them into a nearby garbage can.

"I'm sure she'll forgive you for not fighting harder to save her supper," Andre said. His tone was light and I knew he was trying to jolly me out of my fright. Just having him and Nick here was doing a good job of that.

"Shouldn't we call the police and wait for them here?" I asked.

"No," Andre said. He was very decisive and started walking, leaving me no choice but to go with him. "If they want to come back and see where your dinner went splat, it's on them, but we're getting out of here. If that nutter comes back, I want to be gone."

He didn't have to sell me. We began to hurry back to our section of Portobello Road.

"No, she's all right," Nick said into his phone. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

We were moving so fast, we were there even quicker. We had almost reached the shop when I spotted a man running toward us. My shoulders stiffened at the sight of him but then I recognized the way he moved with a long-legged gait that covered ground fast. Harrison!

I broke away from Nick and Andre. They were my friends and I loved them dearly but there was only one person whose arms could really make me feel safe and that was Harry. I was still several feet away when I launched myself at him. Harrison s.n.a.t.c.hed me close and held me tight with one arm around my back and one cradling the back of my head almost as if he would rock me like I was a fussy child. I would have let him, too.

"Viv called me," he said. "Are you all right? She said you were attacked by a man in a mask."

"I'm fine," I said. But then the vision of the masked face leering at me from the other side of the phone booth gla.s.s filled my head and I s.h.i.+vered. Clearly, it was going to take a while for that image to be replaced by happier ones.

Harrison loosened his hold and ran his hands up and down my back in a gesture of comfort. Nick and Andre joined us and I heard them talking about me as if I wasn't there and this was how I knew I was rattled, because I didn't even care.

"Did he harm her?" Harrison asked.

"No!" Andre and Nick said together and then Nick continued, "At least not physically, but he terrified her and that's going to have some long-lasting effects, probably manifesting as nightmares for a while."

"Also, he got away," Andre said. "We need to report this to the police. They need to know what's happening in case he-"

He cut off his words, but I didn't need to hear them. I knew exactly what he was thinking because I was thinking it, too.

I stepped back from Harrison and looked at them. All three of them were looking at me as if they were afraid I'd shatter. They should know me better than that. I was scared, certainly, but I wasn't a victim and I wasn't going to be one, not if I could help it.

"In case he comes back," I said. I didn't say, although I knew with a chilling certainty that it was true, that it was not a case of if but rather when he would be back for me.

Chapter 24.

They didn't agree with me, but they didn't disagree either.

"Come on, it's been hours since Inspector Franks has heard from me, I'm sure he's missing me desperately by now," I said.

Viv was half in and half out the door as we came up to it. Her hair was disheveled and her face was pale. The end of her nose was red and her eyes were watery.