Billie Girl

Chapter Nine

But I didn't feel like wonder woman or Laura Croft, and as I walked briskly up the hill on my street I saw the shadow of a man at the top of the sloop, just standing there with something (undetectable from this distance) in his hand. As I got closer, I saw it was a flashlight as he aimed the beam right into my face and asked, "Are you OK?"

He had one powerful flashlight, that's for sure. Was he someone from the neighborhood watch?

I couldn't just ignore him. "I'm OK." I said.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go in the opposite direction of my house. That would not do me much good. But I did consider making a move towards the house I was nearest to. They had their front lights on and plenty of Christmas lights. It was unlikely they were harboring the serial killer there. I estimated that it might take me about thirty seconds to get to their door and ring their doorbell, but I had no idea how long they would take to answer the door. By then I could be a girl who was no longer breathing.

The bottom line was no matter what I did, I was not in an ideal situation, and I only had myself to blame. What would they say? Her boyfriend, Blake, had told her that she should go on nightly walks. Her boyfriend was her cult leader, and she was his only follower?

"You really should not be out here walking around all by yourself. What are you doing out here?" the stranger asked.

I was now substantially closer to this dude. He looked to be in his early to late thirties. but I couldn't tell for sure.

"Seriously, are you all right? " He added.

I recognized him. He lived in the house next to the one I as planning to run to. He owned a Harley and he had this super-hot girlfriend, who was always hovering around him, watching him build his garage or fix his roof, mow his lawn and so on. In fact, I now spotted her out of the corner of my eye at the front window of his house. She stood there all subservient and complacent and all those other things that macho guys liked so much. I bet she didn't like that he was talking to me.

"I know you," he said to me. "I mean, I have seen you around. You live a couple of houses up. My name is Hank. I was just chilling with my girl and she saw you out here. So I thought I would come out and see if you were OK."

"I'm fine. I just..."

"I know how it is. It's hard just staying in every night like they tell you to. I hate staying in myself. I'm an outdoors man at heart, I guess. Do you want to come in for a nightcap before you go home?"

Well, this fellow was a regular good Samaritan until he suggested this. Now he was giving me the creeps. At least I was picking up on the distinct chance that he was pushing my boundaries. From what I could see, as I got closer, there was a good chance he was in his forties. But he had an all American "hey-Joe" quality that I found somewhat endearing. I had seen him now and again, back when he was building and fixing all that he needed to build and fix. Since I hadn't seen him in the process of a project lately, it seemed to me he had reached a plateau, and maybe for once he was satisfied with what he had.

I thought about his offer. It was Christmas Eve after all, and I had no plans. He seemed friendly enough, and I seriously doubted he was the strangling type. Why go out and strangle girls when you have a perfectly fine one at home? I could still see his better half at the window watching him.

Perhaps they were one of those serial killing teams. Each dividing up the dirty work. I nixed all these ideas and accessed my inner voice, which told me that it was not only a good idea to enter his ranch-style house, but it was prudent for me to do so. Like they say, there is power in numbers, and maybe he had some information that I could use. Information seemed to be a very desirable thing during those dark days. The cops were seeking information. The news was providing whatever information they had, and the locals were hungry for information that might lead to some justice and an end to this reign of terror.