“You see that guy pulling leaves out of the storm drain?” Cooper asked. He turned and gave Bill a friendly wave. Bill waved back. Cooper turned back to Susan. “That guy’s a witness,” he said. “The lady who passed us with the dog?” Susan hadn’t even seen a woman with a dog. “She lives in the neighborhood,” Cooper said. “So she knows you. The cops come by later, start asking questions, she’s seen me and the car—she’s a witness.” Cooper nodded at her. “If Jack Reynolds ever wants you dead, you won’t see me. They won’t see me.” He smiled at her, seemingly pleased at the excellence of his explanation. “This isn’t how we do it. So you’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”

Susan’s spine was as rigid as a board. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked.

“It’s a party,” Cooper said, his eyes pleading. “You want me to put a glass slipper on your foot?”

Susan didn’t know what to do. She looked across the street at Bill. He was wearing rubber rain boots and jabbing the wrong end of the rake into the sludge of dead leaves that filled the storm drain. “Hey, Bill!” she shouted. Bill looked up. Cooper was right about one thing, Bill noticed everything that went on in that neighborhood—she had no doubt he’d made note of her visitor and his car. So she’d just make sure it stuck. “I’m going to a party at my boyfriend’s house!” Susan called. “His dad sent this guy Cooper to drive me! Tell my mom, okay?” Bill flashed her a peace sign.

Susan looked at Cooper. He appeared vexed again.

“Let’s go,” Susan said. She left the flowers on the porch next to the jack-o’-lantern and started down the porch steps for the car. “Do you have a minibar in that thing?”

Chapter 9

CHAPTER

9