Page 11 of D for Dead

‘Get your horrible little hands off me, you cretin.’

‘Madam, please.’ The store manager, a neat and meticulous man of about fifty, looked horrified.

He tried to grab her arm again and she shoved him hard, causing him to stumble backwards into a rack of books that all went flying.

‘Nadine? What the hell are you doing?’

The voice came from the other side of the store and Amy recognised the man hurrying towards them, a Too Many Books carrier bag in his hand and a look of horror on his face.

Nadine’s boyfriend.

Amy had met him a couple of times over the years and it never failed to surprise her that this quietly attractive, mild-mannered and seemingly intelligent man had chosen to spend his life with a woman like Nadine.

Well, they say opposites attract.

Helping the store manager to his feet, he fixed Nadine with a scathing look. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he repeated, his tone calm but with an angry edge.

Nadine stabbed a finger in Amy’s direction. ‘It’s all her fault.’

‘Sir, I’d like your lady friend to leave, please, or I will have to call the police.’ This was the store manager again, looking frostily at Nadine, although he addressed her boyfriend.

‘I am so sorry.’ The boyfriend, Todd, Tony… Amy couldn’t remember his name, had his wallet out and was thumbing through notes. ‘I will pay for any damage.’

‘Not necessary,’ the store manager said stiffly. ‘I just want her out.’

‘I can’t believe you’re trying to give him money,’ Nadine hissed. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong, Troy.’

Troy. That was it.

‘You promised, Nadine. You promised you weren’t going to come over here.’

‘I couldn’t help it. I’m so upset. She has a lot to answer for.’

Troy had his arm around Nadine now and was trying to guide her out of the store, despite her protestations.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mouthed to Amy and the store manager.

‘She will be sorry,’ Nadine snarled, eventually relenting. With a final scowl in Amy’s direction, she allowed Troy to lead her from the store.

Amy was quick to leave after the encounter. As well as being embarrassed by the incident, she got the impression the store manager couldn’t wait to see the back of her. He had politely asked her if she was okay, but his overall demeanour had changed, and she couldn’t help thinking he held her partly responsible.

Her VW Beetle was parked in the lot across the road. She would dump the books in the passenger seat then wander down to the grocery store on the corner of the block, pick up some dinner for later. She wasn’t working tonight so she would cook a proper meal. Maybe have some wine with it. She had a couple of bottles in the apartment and, after the encounter with Nadine, felt she deserved a glass or two. Perhaps she would call up her girlfriends, Heidi and Fran, see if they wanted to come over. As she approached her car, the ugly naked word crudely written in red letters across the front windshield stood out.

BITCH.

Amy stopped, rooted to the spot, and glanced around the parking lot, box clutched tightly in one hand, car keys in the other. Bile rose in her throat.

Nadine?

She expected the woman to ambush her again, but as she crossed to the car on shaky legs, no one appeared. Still, she felt sick.

Quickly dropping the books onto the passenger seat, she got a cloth from the glovebox and dabbed at the letters.

It was lipstick or similar.

Had to be Nadine.

Does she hate me that much?