Sunshine Hunter
Page 13
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… gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door … gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door… gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door…
I opened my eyes and realized I wasn’t actually hearing the foreboding line from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. I had been dreaming it.
The room was dark. I must have been asleep for several hours. Why was I dreaming the famous line from The Raven? And then I heard it. A light rap, rap, rapping at the door. At Darby’s door. I don’t know why, but it frightened me, and I felt vulnerable without him in the room.
I tiptoed over to the door, being careful not to make any noise. I peeked out the peephole and had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from calling out. I backed away so fast, I nearly fell down.
It was Skinny Guy, and he was obviously after Darby!
My heart pounded so hard, I could hear it deep within my ears. I stood still in the middle of the room, not daring to breathe. I didn’t see the handle of the door move, but I heard it as it turned back and forth. He obviously didn’t have a key. I waited, still afraid to move. I stood there for what felt like an hour but was surely only a few minutes.
When there was no more rapping or turning of the handle, I crept back over to the door. I looked out the peephole again. He was gone. I ran over to my room and looked out the peephole there as well. No Skinny Guy. But what I had seen surprised me. Because of his hair and build, I surmised he was going to have a face like Weird Al Yankovic. Instead, he had a handsome, brooding look like a young Marlon Brando. And worse, he looked familiar.
Had I ever seen him before? Had we ever met? Maybe I had actually seen him since we arrived in Florida, and I simply didn’t realize it. Even though he had a nice face, I was sure there was something sinister about him. Edgar Allan Poe sinister.
I looked around the room as though to assure myself no one was there and I was safe. I noticed my phone was fully charged now. There were two messages from Samantha, but none from Mick. I was surprised at how disappointed I was he hadn’t called again. I punched Samantha’s speed dial number.
“Susan! You’re not going to believe what’s going on here,” she said without waiting for me to say hello. Her voice sounded excited, but it was a distressed excited. This wasn’t like her. She was usually the calm one when things went wrong.
“What’s going on? I have things to tell you, too,” I said. I wanted to fill her in on Skinny Guy.
“Me first,” she said. “The police have been all over the club. Jerry’s uncle asked the coroner to do an autopsy, and you’ll never guess what they found.”
“Steroids!” I all but shouted. “I knew it!”
“They did find steroids, but that’s not what killed him. He was poisoned!” she said dramatically.
“What! You’re kidding. How was he poisoned? Who would poison Jerry?” I knew he didn’t seem to have any friends, but why would anyone want to kill Jerry?
“The detective that’s been at the club won’t give out any details. I only know this much because Larry keeps hounding his cousin for information.”
“Sam, did you and Larry discuss the man from Thursday nights?” I asked. “Did you ask Larry to tell Dick about him? I really think he might have something to do with this, or at least he might know something.”
“We did talk about it,” she said. “Everyone who spends time at the club has seen the man, but no one knows who he is. Jerry never talked to anybody about his personal life. Larry said the police know about him, but they haven’t located him yet.”
“Ok,” I said. “You said they found steroids in his system, too?”
“Yes, but they’ve already searched his apartment and found that his steroid prescription was legally prescribed. I’ll let you know if Larry finds out exactly what type of poison killed him, but that’s all I know for now.” She paused. “Tell me your news.”
“Well, for starters, Darby is gay,” I said with an incredulous edge to my voice.
“Knew it,” she said calmly.
“You did not,” I said. “How could you tell?”
“I don’t know, it’s a gift,” she said, laughing. “I’ve seen him at your place enough times, and it was just subtle things he did or said. I’ve thought all along he was gay.”
“I have no gaydar at all,” I whined. “I’ve had other gay friends, but unless someone is over-the-top with their speech or mannerisms, I never have a clue.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, still laughing. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You two have a great friendship, and that’s what counts.”
“Oh my gosh,” I moaned. “That’s not all of it. There’s Skinny Guy.”
I proceeded to fill her in on all the Skinny Guy details including the recent, scary Edgar Allan Poe moment. I always hated that poem. It gave me the creeps when I first read it in the eighth grade, and it still gives me the creeps when I see snippets from the poem now. That’s probably why I had such a fearful reaction when Skinny Guy was at the door. Maybe he was a jilted lover who wanted Darby to take him back. That would make sense. But why would he run us off the road? He could still be a jilted lover who wanted to kill Darby. I’d ask him about it when he got back.
Samantha and I finished our conversation. I had been pacing while we talked, but now, I sat down on my bed.
My heart raced as I punched Mick’s speed dial number.