Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 105, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 640 & 641, March 1995

“Josie had been his girl,” Ralph told her after class on Friday. “When you said she might have been murdered, you messed Troy up pretty bad.”

“I’m surprised no one had considered it before,” she said.

Ralph grimaced. “She was the first, I guess. No one thought much about it. Just that it was sad.”

She could understand that. Hindsight was always clearer than foresight. What she didn’t understand was why he followed her home on Friday night. She always went to the grocery store after she cashed her paycheck to stock up on groceries for the week, then she ate at the cafe as her Friday night treat, then she went home. It was a ritual, almost. Maybe too much so. Everyone must know her pattern by now. Clearly, Troy did, because as she turned onto County Road 6, he pulled out of a small lane and followed her in his souped-up black Camaro.

When she pulled into her driveway, he pulled in after her.

Stupid, she told herself, too late. Now she was trapped. As he opened his car door and walked toward her, she thought about making a run for the house; but she’d never reach it in time. Instead, her hand snaked out and she locked her car doors, then she rolled up the windows.

“What are you doing?” Troy yelled as he stopped beside her car. “Can I talk to you?”

She shook her head. “It’s late,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the cafe for lunch tomorrow. We can talk then.” Maybe it had started with Josie, she thought. Troy was a little unstable. Maybe he hadn’t meant to kill her, but he’d discovered he liked it. What had he asked her about Betsy? “Was it really horrible, or was it sort of neat, like horror movies?” She knew he got drunk almost every weekend, sneaking beer behind people’s barns. Had Hiram Becker caught him, was that why he’d killed him?

He was tipsy now, she could tell, and it wasn’t even that late. Angry, he kicked the side of her car. “Damn it! I drove all the way out here to tell you some things, and you won’t even talk to me.”

A good try, she thought. But it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t getting out of her car for anything.

“Josie was a nice girl,” he yelled. “I didn’t care about her being pregnant. I was planning on marrying her, anyway.”

Caryn froze. It was beginning to fall into place. Josie had told him he had to marry her at the swimming hole. He’d lost control and drowned her. Maybe not on purpose. But it had given him a taste for murder.

“Never mind!” he bellowed. “Forget it. I was gonna tell you some things, but if you don’t want to hear them, it’s no skin off my back.” He stomped to his Camaro and fired it up. A minute later, he was hurtling down the gravel drive and back to town.

Caryn sat silently listening for several minutes. Maybe it was a trick, but eventually she realized she didn’t want to sit in her car all night, and she should certainly be able to run into her house and lock the door, even if Troy had doubled back somehow.

She scooped her grocery bags up in both arms, got her house key ready, and bolted from the car, running all-out. With a quick turn the kitchen door unlocked, and she was shouldering it open when a shadow detached itself from the darkness at the corner of the stoop, leapt to the top step, and pushed her inside. Immediately, the door slammed shut behind her and the deadbolt slid into place.

Whirling, she stared in surprise. “Kenny?”

He glanced at the hand she’d jammed deep into her jacket pocket. “Are you all right? Troy didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, I’m fine.” She didn’t move, didn’t unwrap her fingers from the can of Mace. Not that he knew what she was gripping. Maybe he thought she had a gun.

He relaxed slightly. “You really upset him, talking about Josie. He hasn’t been the same since she drowned. None of us mentions her to him.”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Why were you hiding in the shadows?”

He shrugged. “Troy and I drove around for a while after school. He downed some beers and started to talk a little crazy. I didn’t think he’d really do anything, but I didn’t want to take a chance. When he followed you up your drive and you ran like hell for the house, I guess I panicked a little. I thought Troy might still be after you.”

So had she. It was an easy mistake to make. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me,” she said. “I think he wanted to talk, but he’d scared me so much, I wasn’t listening. Now I think I overreacted.”

“Who could blame you? You’re new here. You don’t really know any of us yet.” He looked at the groceries she was still trying to balance. “Need help with those?”

She shook her head. “To be honest, my nerves are so shot, I’d rather be alone. I appreciate your concern, but I need some time to pull myself together.”

He nodded solemnly. “I know the feeling. See you on Monday.” And he quietly turned and went out the kitchen door, pulling it shut behind him with a rattle.