Happy Halloween, everybody! (This story is making me seasonally confused. ;) Although my head is pounding right now and I haven't been outside once today, and I hid out from my visiting relatives in order to write, I still love you all! Mwah!


Chapter Thirty-Four

Kate was kneeling in the living room floor, the fabric resting in silky folds around her on all sides. She'd been snipping and trimming for about an hour now, and the costume was almost complete. Now all that remained was to try it on and see if it would actually work. She still hadn't seen Sawyer yet, and she was starting to worry that he might have fallen asleep up there somewhere. Either that, or he'd discovered the stack of vintage Playboys she'd noticed in the corner but prudently neglected to tell him about. Apparently, he and his grandpa had had a lot in common.

Just when she was on the verge of going to search for him, she heard his slow, heavy tread descending the stairs. She glanced up and back down at the fabric as he entered the room, but then froze and raised her eyes to him again in a combination of shock and amusement. He was barefoot, with a pair of black slacks cut off and rolled up to just below the knees. For a shirt, he had on some kind of open-necked billowy white blouse that might possibly have been a woman's. Although his hair was shorter now, there was just enough length for it to be pulled back and fastened at the nape of his neck. Covering his head was a red handkerchief, also tied in the back. The crowning detail was a black eye-patch.

He stood in front of her, looking sulky yet expectant, waiting for her reaction.

"What are you supposed to be?" she asked slowly, in wonder.

He raised his hands and let them drop, looking away in exasperation. "What the hell you mean, what am I s'posed to be, woman? I'm a pirate! Ain't it obvious?"

Kate grinned now, looking back down at the floor and nodding. "I know. I just wanted to hear you say the words, I'm a pirate."

He narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance. "Funny," he said, collapsing into a chair and pulling the eye-patch off.

Kate realized that she should have been more supportive. His fragile ego required the kind of boost that she was usually unwilling to give. But today, she would have to make an extra effort. Otherwise, he'd never go out dressed like that, and her plans for the night would be ruined.

Pulling herself up, she walked over to him and perched on the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

"It's perfect," she said in an approving tone.

He didn't answer her.

"In fact," she went on thoughtfully, putting her hands on his shoulders. "If you really think about it, you practically are a pirate."

"How you figure?" he asked bitingly. But he seemed interested.

"Well, look at the evidence." She ticked off the points on her fingers. "You're a criminal. You steal from rich people. You were marooned on a desert island, and you got stabbed in the arm by a foreign soldier. You built a raft to escape, and you sailed off with a band of misfits into the vast unknown," she concluded with a flourish. Putting her arms around him from behind, she leaned over and spoke close to his ear. "It all sounds pretty pirate-like to me. All you're lacking is a parrot."

"You're full of shit," he muttered. But she could tell he was thinking about it, and that he liked the idea. She could practically see the wheels turning in his mind - Hell, she's right.. I AM like a pirate.

Smiling secretively, she kissed him on the neck.

"You done with yours yet?" he asked, gesturing toward the fabric.

"I think so." She stood up and gathered the piles into her arms, laying them on the couch. "But I'll wait until after dinner to try it on. I'm starving. Aren't you?" she asked, heading toward the kitchen.


Tweaking the costume and making minor adjustments took longer than Kate had expected, so that it was nearly 10:00 PM by the time she finally made her way back downstairs. Sawyer was waiting for her, impatiently, even though he'd originally been against the idea of going anywhere at all.

"Well?" she asked, turning around for his inspection while he gazed at her in astonishment. She was draped head to toe in the violet, blue, and black fabric, and she'd somehow managed to make it both flowing and form-fitting at the same time. Using a sheer piece of black netting, she'd created a veil which covered her face, leaving her features just barely visible. Even through the screen, though, he could see that she was wearing heavy makeup - thick black eyeliner and mascara, some kind of glittery eyeshadow that matched the costume, and a dark blood-red lipstick.

"I'm a gypsy," she explained, sounding embarrassed. "Or...something like that. It was the only thing I could think of that would let me keep my face covered... other than the old bedsheet-ghost standard."

Still speechless, he lifted the veil over her head in order to get a better look at her face. Although he'd just been thinking a few weeks ago that he never wanted to see her with makeup on, he now felt his pulse speed up at how unbelievably sexy she looked. He'd never imagined her like this, and he had to fight the urge to just throw her down on the couch and start pawing at her. But he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate the gesture - especially not when it had taken her so long to get ready.

"God damn," he said under his breath. "You sure you don't just want to stay in?"

She smiled at him slyly. "I'm sure. But if you play your cards right, maybe I'll leave it on for a few hours after we get home."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," he whispered, running his hands down to her waist and lightly grazing his lips against hers before pulling back, teasing her. She closed her eyes for a second and drew in her breath shakily, but then smiled and moved away from him.

"I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work. Get the keys."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, grabbing them from the hall table. She could order him around all she wanted to, as long as she was dressed like that. "Where'd the makeup come from?"

She gave him a funny look. "From the glove compartment of your car."

Shit. He shouldn't have asked.

"And don't worry," she added. "I'm not gonna ask you who it belonged to."

"Good. Because there ain't a chance in hell I'd be able to tell ya," he said jokingly, tossing the keys into the air and catching them.

"I didn't think so," she said, rolling her eyes.

Gus poked his head into the front hall and looked curiously at the two of them, obviously having no sympathy at all with this whole Halloween thing. Kate called him to her and kneeled down, hugging him.

"I feel so guilty leaving him by himself."

"He'll probably just think we're asleep upstairs," Sawyer said, trying to hurry her along.

"You guard the house, okay, Gus?" Kate said to the dog. He licked her on the nose, and she stood up, smiling.

She looked at Sawyer's costume again. "You know," she said thoughtfully. "You really need a sword to complete the ensemble."

"I got somethin' better than that." Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a pistol.

Kate grew serious and looked away. "I don't want you to take that," she said in a quiet voice.

"Too bad."

"Sawyer." She met his eyes. "For one night, can't we just pretend that we aren't the kind of people who have to carry guns everywhere?" She sounded sad.

"But we are." He looked at her steadily.

She was silent for a few seconds, not arguing with him. "Please," she tried again.

He sighed heavily. With obvious reluctance, he laid the pistol on the table, already missing the comforting weight of it in his pocket.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking at the gun with regret.

"So... are we ready?" he asked.

There was that faint excitement in her eyes again.

"Let's go," she said.

Trying his best to ignore his jittery nerves, he led her out.


For a while they just drove, not heading any place in particular. Wispy clouds, appearing dark blue in the night sky, drifted in front of the moon. A breeze caused newly-fallen dead leaves to skitter across the country road in the truck's headlights. There was an eerie quality to the atmosphere, as if even Nature was conscious that Halloween was distinct from any other day.

Although it was really too cold for it, Kate kept the window open, delighting in the simple feel of the air against her skin. It was something she'd experienced so rarely lately that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. She gazed out at the woods and the few houses they passed with a hungry eagerness, and Sawyer watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"Want to go trick-or-treatin'?" he asked her.

She looked over at him, amused. "I don't think anybody would give us candy."

"They would have if I'd brought the gun," he said, grudgingly.

She laughed. "Just keep driving."

After a few more minutes, the woods opened up and the hills leveled off. There was a large, open meadow, crowded with people and parked cars. A stage was set up at one end, and faint music could be heard coming from that direction.

"Slow down," Kate said excitedly. "It looks like a party."

"I don't know those people!" he argued.

"So? There must be a hundred cars parked out there! They won't know the difference. They're probably all drunk, anyway."

Backing up a little, he swung the truck into the rutted entrance. "Sure hope you know what you're gettin' us into," he said with dread.

He parked as far back near the road as he could. They both got out and stood there for a minute, hesitantly. The band, some kind of bluegrass-rock fusion, finished up a song, and loud whoops and cheers could be heard from the other end of the field.

"Put your eye-patch back on," Kate said, handing it to him.

With a sigh, he pulled it on. She adjusted her veil and they started nervously toward the center of the meadow, where groups of people were standing or milling around. It was a large crowd, and most of them appeared to be very young, in their early twenties. Almost everybody was in costume, some more elaborate than others.

Kate reached out and grabbed Sawyer's hand. He squeezed it, knowing that this was the first time she'd been around people she didn't know in months. Although it wasn't likely anybody would be able to recognize her in her disguise, it was nerve-wracking all the same.

"Uh-oh, Freckles... don't look now," he said in a joking tone, remembering her irrational phobia. "There's a clown over there."

She glanced over at the area he pointed out, smiling and looking disturbed at the same time.

"How can you possibly not think that's creepy?" she asked him.

"You want me to go kick his ass?"

"I think a random clown beating might draw a little too much attention to us, don't you? But thanks for the offer."

They shared an amused look, but then their attention was distracted by an obviously very inebriated blonde who staggered up to them with a tray. She looked a little bit like Shannon, Kate thought with distaste.

"Hey, sailor," she said in a flirtatious tone to Sawyer, looking him up and down.

Kate stepped in front of him. "He's a pirate, not a sailor," she said sharply.

Sawyer looked down at her with delight. It was the first time he'd ever seen her show even a hint of jealousy, and he enjoyed it immensely.

"Oh," the girl said, disappointed at the presence of a girlfriend. But luckily, her emotional attention span wasn't long. Examining Kate, she gushed in a heavy Southern accent, "Oh my goodness, I love your gypsy costume! You're Alpha Delta Pi, right?"

"Um.. yeah," Kate replied, taken aback. "Thanks... I like yours too. What... what exactly are you supposed to be?" The girl was wearing what appeared to be lingerie stolen from the Moulin Rouge wardrobe.

"I'm a hooker!" the girl said loudly as the band started to play again.

"Oh!" Kate shouted, glancing at Sawyer with an incredulous irony. "Well, it's very convincing!"

"Thank you!" the girl said with sincerity, placing her hand on her heart. "Bless yer heart! Ya'll have some jello shots, all right?" She held out the tray of paper cups containing orange and black-dyed jello. "They're real strong!"

Kate took one with hesitation. Sawyer took two.

"I'll see you around!" she called out as she went off in the other direction toward a group of similarly-clad girls.

"Sawyer," Kate said warningly.

"What?"

"You're driving."

"Sweetheart, you got me dressed in a pirate costume, standin' out in a field with a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls. You gotta let me have somethin' to make it worth it."

She sighed, giving up.

"Bottoms up," he said with a smile. Kate lifted the veil slightly and pretended to swallow the vodka-laced jello, surreptitiously dropping it to the ground. Sawyer didn't notice.

They wandered closer to the stage, listening for a while to the mediocre band, whose members also appeared to be drunk. When the musicians took their next break, the two of them walked down the edge of the field, slowly, enjoying the chance to be out, to be doing something relatively normal, blending into the crowd with people whose lives weren't lived on the edge of catastrophe, pretending for the moment that they had something in common with them.

Kate leaned against the split-rail fence, gazing up at the moon. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she said softly.

Before Sawyer could answer, a shout reached them from further down the fence line.

"Hey, James! Sally! Wait up!" the voice yelled, although they weren't moving.

"Oh, shit," Sawyer muttered through clenched teeth.

Kate looked around in alarm.

Out of the darkness, a chubby, curly-headed man came up to them, reeking of beer and pot. It was Greg. Wearing... reindeer antlers.

"I knew I seen you two back there!" he said in delight. "Hell of a party, ain't it?"

"Hi, Greg," Kate said with a smile. Although he wasn't exactly who she would have chosen, it was still kind of nice to see a familiar face. "I like your costume."

"Oh, these old things?" he asked modestly, touching the antlers. "I had 'em left over from Christmas, and I figured, why waste a good costume when you can use it twice?"

"Now why didn't we think of that, Sally?" Sawyer asked sarcastically.

Kate ignored him. "How was Florida?"

"Florida?" Greg looked confused.

"You just got back from Florida..." she prompted him. "You were visiting your uncle?"

"Oh, right!" he said, the lights going on. "I got this Ginka boloney stuff I'm s'posed to take for my memory...'cept the thing is, I can't ever remember to take it."

"Gingko Biloba?" Kate supplied.

"That's it! You got to take that shit, too? But anyway, Florida was great. That uncle of mine, he's one hell of a farmer. 'Course, his tomatoes don't amount to much, but his pot sure does make up for it. I brought some with me, if you want to try it..." He started to fiddle around with his pocket.

"That's okay!" Kate said quickly, holding up her hand. "Maybe later."

"Well, you just let me know," he said gallantly. "It's on the house."

Kate nodded. "Thanks."

"Only bad thing about the trip was, they confiscated my passport comin' back over the border."

"The border?" Kate asked, thinking she'd misunderstood.

"Yeah... You don't want to mess around with them border patrol guys. They mean business, let me tell you."

She decided not to inquire further. It couldn't possibly lead to any enlightenment.

"So, what have you two been up to?" Greg asked, obviously intending to prolong the conversation.

Kate tried to think of something that they could tell him without danger. Sawyer wasn't being any help.

"We got a dog," she offered tentatively.

"No shit? I'm more of a cat person myself. But... hey, James," he said looking at Sawyer. "You 'member that one dog you used to have that rescued them kids from that abandoned mineshaft? And it was on the news, and they had a big parade, and the governor came down and gave him a medal?"

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Sawyer asked, looking bewildered.

"Or maybe I seen that on Lassie," Greg said, scratching his head.

Kate was immensely grateful for the veil covering her face. She managed to disguise her laugh with a cough.

"We better be hittin' the road, don't you think, Sally?" Sawyer hinted.

"Well, it sure was good to see you," Greg said, slapping Sawyer on the back. "Hey, before you two leave, I gotta joke for you. I just heard this from one of my buddies in the band... This'll crack you up. Okay, you ready?... What did the naked man say to the elephant?"

Greg waited in expectant glee.

Kate shrugged her shoulders while Sawyer rolled his eyes.

"You give up? He said... It's real cute, but can it pick up peanuts?"

They continued to stare at him blankly.

"Hold on," he said, thinking. "Maybe it was the elephant that said that to the naked man. Aw, well," he said, giving up. "Take my word for it, it's funny as hell."

"Bye, Greg," Kate said, as Sawyer started to drag her off.

"You two take care, now! You sure look better when you're not all scrawny, Sal!"

She glanced incredulously up at Sawyer as he led her to the center of the field, back into the crowd. He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"That's it," she said firmly. "I'm going on a diet."

Before he got a chance to reply, however, two men - boys, actually - collided with the two of them, falling to the ground in between them. They rolled in a furious, twisting mass, pummeling each other, and within seconds, there were dozens of people jumping onto the pile, either trying to break it up or join in. A few girls screamed, and as the crowd closed in, forcing her backwards, Kate realized that she could no longer see Sawyer.

She attempted to pull herself out of the ever-widening ring of people, hoping to gain enough distance to circle back around and find him. But she quickly became disoriented and couldn't even tell which direction she'd been facing. The people continued to push against her, and she experienced a rising sensation of panic which she tried desperately to tamp down. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to focus her mind.

Suddenly, she felt hands grip her around the waist from behind, tugging her. Operating on instinct, she spun around and tried to beat them off, using all her strength but feeling the grip only tighten in response.

"It's me!" Sawyer shouted, and she finally distinguished the ridiculous red kerchief on his head. The eye-patch must have gotten lost in the melee.

Feeling a wave of relief so palpable that it almost made her collapse, she let him guide her through the riotous crowd over to an empty area, slightly elevated above the chaos.

She sat down, hanging onto his arm. He lowered himself beside her, letting out his breath slowly.

"You still think this was such a good idea?" he asked.

She didn't say anything. She was trying to slow her heartbeat.

A female voice rose above the din, screaming in outrage, "I hope you assholes are happy now, because Becky just called the cops!"

Kate looked over at Sawyer. "Guess that's our cue, huh?" Through the veil, he could distinguish a sad smile.

With a sigh, he stood up, holding out his hand. She took it, and they headed toward the truck.


She was quieter on the drive back. Considering everything, they'd been lucky, but it still wasn't the way either of them had wanted the night to end. Getting an idea, Sawyer turned onto a different road before they reached the house. Since Kate wasn't familiar with the area anyway, she didn't notice his change in direction.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot of a small, old-fashioned diner, isolated out in the middle of nowhere. There was only one other car there.

"What's this?" Kate asked when he cut the engine. "A restaurant?"

"Stay there," he said mysteriously, hopping out of the driver's side. He came around to her door and opened it for her, with a comic gallantry that made her laugh.

"Is it even open?" she asked him, sliding down from the seat.

"The lights are still on," he said, glancing toward the building.

They approached the door. Although there was no sign that said open or closed, the door was unlocked, so they went on in.

Sitting at a table near the register, painting her nails, was a wiry, sour, tired-looking older woman in a waitress uniform. She looked up when she heard the bell tinkle, and upon seeing their costumes, rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust. Sighing loudly, she pulled herself up and grabbed two menus from the counter.

"Smokin' or Non?" she asked without ceremony as she approached them. Her name tag identified her as Grace, which couldn't be more inappropriate.

Sawyer looked around. "It's just one big room, ain't it?"

"Well, it makes people feel better if I ask," she said in an irritated voice. "Smart-ass," she added, thrusting the menus at him. "Sit where you want." Going back over to her table, she plopped into the chair and resumed her manicure.

Sawyer looked at Kate, wordlessly. She led the way back to the corner, to the booth that was the farthest removed from everything else.

They slid into the cushioned seats and faced each other. Even though they'd faced each other across the kitchen table at Sawyer's house hundreds of times before, this still felt strange. It was the only time they'd ever been out together, like a normal couple. They'd been sleeping together for a month, but this was their first date. Both of them seemed to realize it at the same time, and Kate looked awkwardly down at the menu.

"Thought you were goin' on a diet," he said teasingly.

She gave him a scornful look, closing it. "I'll just have coffee."

When the waitress came over, he ordered coffee for both of them.

"That's it?" she said hatefully, lowering her notepad.

"That's it, Grace," Sawyer echoed with a gleam in his eye, handing her back the menus.

She shook her head indignantly, as if she couldn't believe she had to deal with this crap. A few seconds later she returned and sat their cups down heavily in front of them. Without a word, she poured the coffee and left, stalking back toward the kitchen.

Sawyer raised his eyebrows at Kate. "I think she likes me," he said in a confidential tone.

She smiled. "So it would appear."

Carefully, she pulled her veil over her head and sipped from the cup, grimacing at how strong it was. Sawyer watched her, still fascinated by her transformed appearance.

"What?" she finally asked, growing uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

"Just wonderin' if I get three wishes or not."

"That's a genie you're thinking of, not a gypsy," she said wryly.

"Oh," he said, feeling like an idiot. "Then what the hell's a gypsy do?"

"I don't know..." she considered. "I guess... Tells your fortune, or looks into a crystal ball?"

"All right then," he said. "What do you see in my future?" He looked at her intently, not entirely joking.

She was quiet for a minute, looking at the table, and then she smiled sadly. "We don't do that, remember?"

"Do what?"

"Think about the future," she whispered.

He was disappointed in her for some reason, although he couldn't have explained why. "Yeah," he said quietly, looking away.

She allowed a suitable pause to elapse, examining the diner with curiosity.

"Do you have any change?" she suddenly asked, sounding like she was up to something.

"Why?" he asked, suspicious.

She gestured over to the other corner of the room, where an antique jukebox hunkered back underneath a neon Coca-Cola sign.

"Nope," he said quickly.

She didn't believe him. "You do, too."

"Sorry... All out of change."

She continued to stare at him, hard. "I promise I won't make you dance, okay?"

He thought for a second, wondering if he could trust her. "Swear to it?"

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just give me the money."

With reluctance, he pulled out his wallet and handed her a few quarters. Looking like she felt vaguely sorry for him, she crossed the room to the jukebox as he watched her with interest.

The song Crazy began to play as she returned and sat down again, the country twang familiar to him from his childhood.

"Patsy Cline?" he asked, thinking she must have hit the wrong button.

"What? You don't like her?"

"Hadn't really given it much thought," he answered truthfully.

"The guy who was helping me hide out in Australia... He loved Patsy Cline," she said, lost in memory.

"The one who turned you in?" Sawyer asked, feeling angry even though it was all in the past.

"Yeah." Her expression clouded slightly. "The farmer."

"You and him weren't... you know..." Sawyer said, looking squeamish. "Were you?"

"Sawyer!" she said, disgusted. "He was in his sixties, at least!"

"Well," he answered in defense. "If I was in my sixties, I'd still be tryin' to sleep with ya." He gave her a mischievous smile.

She closed her eyes briefly. "There's no doubt in my mind that that's true."

They were quiet for a few seconds, and she hummed softly to the music, tapping her fingers on the table, doing her best to seem forlorn.

Sawyer looked tormented. Finally, he exhaled loudly, with resignation. "Fine! But just for the rest of this song, you got that?"

She smiled at him, her exaggerated despondence vanishing in an instant. Standing up, she pulled him from the table. "Deal," she agreed.

Moving out away from the booth a little, he glanced around the diner, warily.

"Nobody's watching," she assured him.

Kate put her arms around his neck and forced him to sway slightly to the music, although he did his best to resist.

"You aren't even moving your feet!" she protested.

"You didn't say anything about havin' to move my feet."

"How exactly would you define dancing?"

"I'm out here, aren't I? That'll have to be good enough."

She pressed herself against him, leaning her head onto his shoulder, and he brought his hands up to her lower back, enthralled by the way her skin felt through the thin, silky fabric of the costume. He continued to move his hands lower and lower, surprised that she was letting him.

When the song ended, she brushed her lips lightly against his and then pulled back before he could really kiss her, giving him the exact same treatment he'd given her earlier at the house. Sliding into the seat, she looked back at him with an arch, wicked smile. He tried to convince his pulse to return to normal.

After he'd lowered himself back down into the seat across from her, however, it became all too clear that she wasn't going to assist him with that noble ambition at all. Within a few seconds, he felt her bare foot inching its way slowly up his leg, massaging gently, even her toes getting into the act. He was stunned, but he didn't say anything. They continued to stare at each other challengingly across the table as her foot rose higher and higher. He swallowed hard when it reached his lap, and he felt himself stirring in response. Christ, what was she doing?

"You tryin' to start somethin', Freckles?" he asked softly.

"Maybe." She shrugged.

Alarmed, he noticed the waitress returning to refill their coffee cups. He was positive that Kate would now drop her foot back down to the floor, but she didn't. Instead, she increased her pressure, and he noticed a dangerous edge in her eyes, implying that on some level, she was enjoying this perhaps a little too much.

"Scuse me, ma'am?" Kate suddenly asked, startling him. The waitress looked over at her. In an accent that was a flawless imitation of the girl from the party earlier, she continued. "Do ya'll have a bathroom somewhere?"

"It's for employees only," the waitress barked.

"I understand that." Kate lowered her voice, the picture of bashful Southern modesty. She twirled her hair. "It's just that... I've had an awful lot to drink tonight, ma'am. I'm sure you understand."

The waitress looked as if she didn't even remotely understand, and was actually offended at the notion that she might understand. She sighed, however, giving in. "Down the hall past the kitchen, on the left."

"Thank you, ma'am," Kate said, raising her hand to her chest. "Bless yer heart."

The waitress glared at them both and retreated back to the kitchen.

Sawyer stared at Kate in astonishment. "Who the hell are you?"

She smiled at him, not answering. Standing up, she leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Wait a few minutes. Then meet me back there."

Without giving him time to protest, she disappeared into the hall.

He sat there in excited shock. This was a side of her he'd never seen before, although he had to admit, he'd suspected its existence. Perhaps unfortunately, it was something that he recognized all too well - that thrill of danger that accompanies living on the edge, bending the rules, getting away with whatever you can. They reviled their criminal pasts, but perhaps there was a small part of both of them that would forever be drawn to that illicit peril, that electrifying risk that heightened and amplified reality. It was possible that once you'd acquired a taste for it, there was no going back, no matter what nightmarish circumstances had led you to it to begin with.

But he certainly wasn't in the mood for philosophical quandaries now. The sensation of her foot still lingered in his lap, and he anxiously watched the clock above the front door. When exactly two minutes had elapsed, he followed her down the hall.

About fifteen minutes later, the waitress and the few other customers were startled by a loud, breathless cry that came from the direction of the bathroom. It was quickly muffled.

The waitress hurried back, bewildered, and pounded on the door. "What happened?"

There was an extended pause in which the sound of shuffling and whispers could be heard from the other side. She knocked again, angrily.

The door was opened slowly, with dignity, and Kate stepped out, flushed. In an offended voice, she said, "Ya'll got spiders in there the size' a lobsters. Lucky he knows how to kill 'em."

Sawyer followed her out, smiling proudly. In what he hoped was an inconspicuous gesture, he zipped his pants up.


Nearly falling down with laughter, they managed to climb into the truck and pull away before anybody was able to interrogate them further. Kate sat close to Sawyer's side, leaning against him peacefully. The veil had accidentally been left behind in the booth at the diner, and her makeup was practically all rubbed off, but it didn't matter now. They were almost home.

As they neared the driveway, Sawyer slowed the truck to bypass a car parked on the side of the road.

"Looks like someone had car trouble," he said.

"Should we stop?" Kate asked, concerned.

He peered at the car, which was dark and apparently abandoned. "Must've already got a ride," he said, relieved.

He pulled around it and drove the remaining few yards to the driveway. Glancing back through the rear window, Kate watched the car until it was out of sight, then turned slowly back around.

Although she couldn't have said why, the sight of it gave her a distinct feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach.