He crouched in the cemetery that embraced three
sides of the hillside parking lot across from
The watcher straightened and edged from behind the granite marker. White puffs of vapor from the shallow, rapid breaths he took coalesced around his face. He held his body as rigid as a tombstone. As he waited for the evening nurses to end their tour of duty and hurry across the street to their cars, his narrowed eyes focused on the brightly-lit hospital entrance. Every night for a week, he had watched while excitement and anticipation had circled like a swarm of hornets. Would she come tonight?
"I'll never leave you." When he was eight, Mommy had said the words that had become his litany. That broken promise had brought him here.
He stared at the steps. When would Susan come?
When Mommy was a patient, Susan had been her favorite nurse. He had liked Susan, too, but she hadn't stopped those other people from hurting Mommy. His shoulders tensed.
"I'll never leave you. They'll have to kill me first."
The night Mommy died was etched into his memories. On that dreadful night, he had begun his plan to make them pay.
Mommy would be unhappy about what he meant to do. To her, nurses were special and Susan more wonderful than the rest.
He rocked from his heels to his toes. The last time he had disobeyed, Mommy had threatened to tell everyone how bad he was. He had promised her he would be good. His hands curled into fists. Sometimes he wanted to feel the heat of accomplishment so much he felt sick.
He gulped a breath. Tonight the heat would blossom and he would feel powerful again.
Susan was like Mommy. She would tell. He chewed on his lower lip. Her death would free him to still the people who had hurt Mommy on that dreadful night.
His smile became a grimace.
He had trusted Susan but she had failed to keep Mommy safe. Though he wished to see the others dead, Susan had to be first. He had laid his plans carefully, and while he had considered all the things that could go wrong, days had become weeks and then months.
The bright lights across the street caught his attention and stirred his hopes. She had to come tonight. He wanted to be free.
His hand brushed Mommy's tombstone. He pressed his fingers against the engraved letters of her name. He cocked his head and listened to the whisper of the wind.
"Nurses give so much to others. Someone should take care of them."
Mommy's husky voice thrummed in a corner of his mind. Her face appeared. Tears spilled from her eyes. He shook his head. Why should he listen to her when she had left him?
Sometimes at night when he slept in her bed, he caught a glimmer of her presence. For fleeting moments, the scent of her perfume brought her to him.
He squared his shoulders. Since he was eight and Daddy died, Mommy had watched him carefully. One day, her vigilance had wavered. The neighborhood bully had fallen from a tree and broken his neck. That awful boy shouldn't have torn up Mommy's flower garden.
Mommy had liked the candy and the other presents he had given her every time he disobeyed. He groaned. Who would like his presents now?
Where was Susan? Waiting made him anxious. She had to come so she would be just like Mommy.
He saw her. Hazel eyes, sad eyes, Susan's eyes, Mommy's eyes. Brown hair swirled to hide her siren smile. He reached for her, but she vanished into the darkness of the night.
The chill November wind flowed across his nape. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket and touched the weapon he had brought.
The sound of leather scuffling against asphalt caused him to turn and scan the parking lot. When he saw no one, his gaze returned to the hospital entrance.
Someone dashed across the street. A flash of white showed beneath the woman's dark coat. He held his breath. Susan had come. It had to be her. A rush of anticipation built to a peak. She was here. The nurse ran up the steps beside the cemetery.
A darting shadow startled him. With stealthy movements, a dark-clad figure edged between the cars. The nurse paused beside a battered tan sedan. A hand stretched to grasp the purse that dangled from her shoulder.
"Susan, watch out." A bellow proclaimed his rage. If she was attacked, he should be the attacker.
Mommy wouldn't like that. "A good boy never hurts a woman." She had never guessed what he had done, not even when he had given her the tri-colored bracelet she had always worn.
"No," he shouted.
The dark figure fled and nearly tripped over the single strand of chain that separated the parking lot from the cemetery.
The watcher smiled. Mommy would be proud of him. He couldn't wait to go home and tell her what he had done tonight.
A shrill scream rose. From her? From him? He bit his lower lip and clenched his hands. He stared at the woman he had thought was Susan. She wasn't, but she had been in Mommy's room the night she died. Intent on completing what the mugger had begun, he stepped toward the chain. What was he thinking about? He couldn't, not tonight. Susan had to be the first. He returned to Mommy's grave. Her voice rode on the wind.
"What will become of you when I'm not here to look after you? I'll never leave you. They'll have to kill me first."
But she was dead and they had killed her.
"Mommy, don't leave me. You promised you would never go."
The nurse ran to the steps. She shouted and waved to the group of women who hurried across the street. He slid deeper into the shadows. Car doors slammed. Engines roared. He waited until most of the cars had left the parking lot before he went to his own. As he drove home, he wondered why Susan hadn't come.
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