Last night had reminded her of the good times, of how things could be between her and Leo. It had been like their earlier days, the two of them in the new warehouse, eating pizza and talking.

She remembered the evening fondly and was still smiling by the time she drove into the parking lot outside her apartment block. She felt happy because seeing her parents and Dominic with his girlfriend had been a great way to spend the day. They ought to do this more often. Maybe they could all get together again for Easter.

She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. It was late, almost midnight and there was usually nobody around at this time of night.

“Andrea?”

It was a man’s voice. An unfamiliar voice and yet he knew her name. A sudden chill swept over her as she turned around. His was not a face she recognized. Fear hit hard, clamping her heart in a grip. She stepped back.

“Andrea Brunelli?”

“What do you want?” She tried to sound bold and fearless, but failed.

“Don’t be scared,” he told her. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

She looked around quickly, scanning for other people, for an escape, for a way out. Something wasn’t right. Something about him sneaking up on her, in the dead of the night, in the dark of the night, wasn’t right. Among the haze of her confusion, it suddenly hit her that he had an American accent. Like Riley.

She cocked her head. “Who are you?” In the dim light thrown down by the street lamp, she stole a glance at the main door of the apartment block. Tried to gauge the distance between him and the door, to see if she could get to it without him getting to her first.

“Claydon,” he said, stepping out of from the shadows and standing directly under the lamp. “Claydon French.” Light from it illuminated his craggy features. He wasn’t tall, like Riley, and his scraggy looking face resembled a well-worn dishrag. She shook her head. She’d neither heard of him, nor had she ever set eyes on him before. Frightened, she studied his face, tried to memorize the specifics of his features in case something happened to her, something bad, and she needed to tell the police.

“I don’t know you.” How did he know who she was? The hairs along her back lifted. Her keycard was in her handbag. She couldn’t get it and rush in. It was dark all around, and with the other apartments nearby set back from the street, nobody would come to her aid fast enough, even if she screamed.

“But I know you, Andrea, and I’ve been waiting here all day for you.”

Her breaths turned shallow. “What makes you think I’m Andrea?” she asked, in a surprise show of boldness. She clasped the car keys in her hand even more tightly, not liking the advantage he had, of knowing her name and where she lived when she had no idea who he was.

“Because I’m a friend of Riley’s.” He smiled, watching her reaction. It was funny how she made herself so still, and calm on the outside, when inside her chest was thumping as if she’d run a 4 minute mile.

“Riley?” she said, in a voice that sounded too calm to belong to her.

He nodded. “He sent me a photo once, so I know what you look like. Told me all about you. This isn’t a guess. You are Andrea, so there’s no point in you wasting my time in pretending that you’re not.”

His words forced her back against the car door. Her chest was tight. Constricted tight. Like unable to breathe tight. Any friend of Riley’s was definitely not a friend of hers. “If it’s Riley you’re after, he’s not here.”

“Oh, come now,” the man said, his voice almost sing-song like, too light, too cheery. “I don’t believe that.”

“He’s not here. I’m not lying.” She was trying to work out if he was calling her bluff. If he already knew that Riley wasn’t here and was merely testing her. Was it her he wanted? Tension prickled along her spine. It made her body bunch up. Made her immobile. She forced herself to take a step back, and this time felt the cold, hard car  door against her back. “He’s been gone since September.”

“September?” The man stepped forward, his worn-out features twisting with contempt. “That fucking idiot.” He appeared to lose his composure. Andrea looked around, her eyes darting everywhere, her pulse racing like a bullet. It would be no use screaming, he could have killed her by the time anybody heard. She couldn’t run inside because he was blocking her path, and she was too close up to her car door to yank it open and get in fast enough before stopped her. “Are you lying? Has he told you to lie?”

She shook her head, his menacing tone and expression making her insides judder. She forced herself to sound braver than she felt. “It’s true. He’s been gone for months.”

The man shook his head, placed both his hands behind his head, as if he were trying to gauge what to do next. “Fucking idiot,” he repeated, shaking his head as if the news were too much to bear. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“You’d lie for him, you’d do anything for him. I know he has a way with women.”

She tried to swallow, tried to blink. But couldn’t. It was as if her body had stopped. She had to get it together. Had to get away to some place safe. Whatever this man wanted, she didn’t have. He was pissed that he hadn’t found Riley, and she was in danger of taking the brunt of his anger. She had to stay calm. “I promise you, I don’t know where he is. We don’t keep in touch.”

“You’ve never called him?”

She shook her head.

The news seemed to shock him. “But he was crazy about you.”

“No, he wasn’t,” she whimpered, finding courage from goodness knew where. She was relieved that in the blanket of darkness surrounding her, he couldn’t easily see the fear she felt. She tried to work her mouth, but it had turned as dry as sand. Just like the rest of her, it had seized up and failed to function.

He sniffed and his deep sunken eyes opened a slit wider. “Cheated on you, did he?”

She didn’t know what to tell him. Riley had done a lot of things, but here in the darkness, she had to keep her wits about her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t how whether to believe him, didn’t know how much to tell him.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he growled.

She stared at him, speechless, still frantically trying to figure out how to get away from him and to safety.  “I don’t know where he is. He left no forwarding address.”

“See, I have a problem now,” the man said, breaking out into a wide, hungry smile. “I’m in a difficult situation.” He leered at her, his eyes slipping down to her neck and lower. She clasped the edges of her faux fur gilet together, as if to cover up. Her body started to quiver as fear curled its way inside her.

“Your problem is with him, not me,” she replied. “We broke up. I don’t know where he is.”

“How do you know what you know or don’t know?” he asked, taking a step closer and staring at her as if he couldn’t decide to make his mind up about her.

She forced herself to stand her ground. “Why don’t you call him?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t I call him?” He burst out laughing as if she’d made a side-splitting joke. “Why don’t you call him?”

“I have nothing to say to him,” she replied, truthfully. “He left right after the fire. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

The man’s caterpillar thick eyebrows squished together. “What fire?”

“The one at my warehouse.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “That’s when he disappeared?” He chuckled to himself. “He doesn’t handle stress well, Riley James,” he said. “But I guess you’d know all about that.”

Talking about Riley had steeled her, given her a burst of courage. “Whatever you want from him, you need to get it from him. Make the call, why don’t you? I really can’t help.”

“My problem,” growled the man sneered, baring his teeth, “is that your boyfriend owes me a whole lot of money.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! Whatever financial dealings the two of you have is between you and him. It’s nothing to do with me.” Her voice was loud and strong all of a sudden, a sharp contrast to the gutless person she felt inside.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, grabbing her wrist.

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