SURVIVAL INSTINCT

CHAPTER: 6

Sarah spent what was left of Saturday in her apartment, curled up on the sofa, staring miserably at the television. Usually, her cozy one-bedroom rented apartment, with its view of the busy main street was clearly visible through the glass doors of the patio and the comfortable furniture that she had gathered from estate sales for the past two years, made her feel safe and relaxed. But it was not so today. After what had happened, she jumped every time she heard a noise in the hallway, while the running of water in the pipes made her break into a cold sweat. She went to bed before nine, as she could not stand being awake any longer.

Not surprisingly, she had bad dreams. The corridors and rooms at 102, South Massachusetts Avenue, seemed to go on forever, and Sarah ran from room to room calling Diana's name, even more hysterically, and every time she felt that she was not alone, she felt that someone else was in the house with her, trying to find her way, trying to find Diana, but a lot more silently. The dream ended in the library, with Diana lying on the floor in front of the fireplace. But unlike that morning, she wasn't dead yet. Diana's eyes were fastened on Sarah's face, and she was trying to speak, but could not because her throat was slit from ear to ear. Blood was bubbling out of the wound and dripping onto the dusty floor. The part of Sarah that was aware knew she was dreaming, but she wished she would faint again, so she would not have to look at it.

Sarah then saw her eyes shift and felt a presence loom up behind her, and then she swung round on her heel, just as the knife came up, and the last thing she saw was Ryan Johnson's face; dark eyes narrowed in concentration as he prepared to cut her throat.

Sarah woke up with a scream, she was wrapped around with a nightgown and sheets that she resembled an Egyptian mummy. It was five in the morning, and just beginning to turn light outside. She turned away any thoughts of going back to sleep. She would rather have bags under her eyes than another such nightmare and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She watched some more TV and had a piece of toast and a couple of sips of coffee.

By mid-afternoon, she was feeling a little better. She even went outside for a walk, down to the market to pick up the Sunday paper. Mostly she wanted to know whether any of the papers had mentioned her name, although she would not mind admitting that she was a bit curious too.

The murder was front-page news, similarly, it had been the lead story on all the news shows, the previous night.                                                                                                                                                                        

QUEEN OF REAL ESTATE GETS MURDERED IN AN EMPTY HOUSE! was the headline, with a sidebar on crime statistics in the neighborhood of South Massachusetts Avenue. The crime stats were unbelievable. Home invasions, gang violence, shootouts. The reporter on one of the news channels suggested that Diana's death could have been the result of a robbery gone wrong, and called for the Mayor to do something about the criminals.

Another news report suggested that Diana might have been a victim of s****l crime. r***s too were prevalent in that area.

One paper had sent a photographer to Massachusetts Avenue, to take pictures of the police vehicles and medical vans. Ryan's black Harley-Davidson motorcycle had been captured in one of the shots, but luckily her orange Ford-Mustang had escaped that honor. It was probably that she had left before the photographer got there. Sarah wondered how long the police had kept Ryan downtown, and why was he kept longer than her.

One of the news reporters had a brilliant idea to interview people in the neighborhood, and between them, they managed to give a pretty good description of both Ryan and Sarah. She had not noticed anyone hanging out of any windows watching them, but somebody had because the description was perfect. 'A classy looking blonde in a tight skirt,' was how Sarah was described. While one witness had described Ryan as tall and dangerous looking,' and had added, "I would not have been surprised if he had something to do with it."

The phone rang just as she was contemplating the last statement, and she prepared herself before picking it up, as she was certain it would be the grieving husband. Tom Walter had not answered the phone when she called yesterday, and she was not surprised. If someone dear to her would have expired, she too would have been in the same position. she would never want to talk to the well-wishers, mourners, and some just plain nosy people, either.

"Hello, Sarah," a smooth voice said in response to her greeting. She controlled herself by not saying "Oh God!" but instead she said politely, "Hi, Mom, what can I do for you?"

"How are you, darling?" her mother said.

"I am fine," Sarah replied, not very truthfully.

"You sound tired, darling. You are taking care of yourself, aren't you?" her mother asked.

"Of course I am," Sarah said. "I eat well, get enough sleep..."

"You are being careful darling, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," Sarah replied.

Her mother hesitated. "It is just that one hears such stories..."

Sarah smothered a sigh. She should very well have known that this would be definitely coming. Diana's death would be news all over the state, and quite possibly all over the country. It was an irony beyond words. All the notoriety that Diana could ever desire, and here she was dead and could not take advantage of it.      

"You are talking about Diana Walter, right? She was universally disliked, God bless her soul. There might have been at least a dozen people who would have liked to murder her." She wanted to add, 'including me, on the day she had made me tie those ribbons.' She added, "But there is nobody who wants to murder me, so don't worry." Also, none of the papers had mentioned her name, so her mother would not be aware that she had been involved in the discovery of Diana's murder, and she was not about to tell her.

"A mother will always worry, darling," her mother said smoothly. Sarah suppressed a groan, She knew what was coming next, and it didn't help to realize that Sarah had walked into it. Her mother continued, "Especially when her daughter is all alone. It has been almost three years since the divorce, darling; don't you think you should find someone else...?" 

"I am not interested in finding anyone else," Sarah said. "One failed marriage was enough, thank you."

Adriana her mother, thought for a moment. Her next remark sounded illogical, but only to someone who did not know her well. "You are still coming down for the birthday party, aren't you, Sarah?"

"Of course I am."

"I have invited Tony Stevenson to join us. He is back in town, you know, and working at the district attorney's office. You would like to see Tony, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" Her mother asked.

Sarah had mentioned Tony in passing earlier when she was talking to Detective Tanya Hudson. Tony's dad had been St-Louis, Missouri's sheriff for as long as Sarah could remember. He was the one who arrested Ryan Johnson back then. Sarah and Tony had known each other their whole lives. They had even dated for a while in high school, more to please their families than anything else. There had been no real feelings between them, and they had lost contact when Tony left for college and Sarah went to finishing school, and then she had married Jack Brown. She knew that even Tony had got married. But if her mother was trying to fix her up with him, it was a safe bet, the marriage was a thing of the past.

"Of course, Mom," Sarah said. "How are he and his wife?"

Her mother clicked her tongue. "He is not married anymore, darling. That little gold-digger wife of his; I had always suspected that he had married her because he could not have you, she resembled you a bit, but minus your breeding, darling. To cut it short, she left him. I thought now that you both are single again..." She said that suggestively.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but said, "It will be nice to see Tony again. Thanks, Mother."