"Yes, Sir. What do you need?" said the a.s.sistant manager.

"I wanted to buy the large container of liquid Cheer, but it's on the bottom shelf, and I just can't get down that low to pick it up. Bad knees."

Poor old guy, thought the a.s.sistant manager. "Okay, I'll be happy to get it for you."

The man led him to the aisle and the a.s.sistant manager squatted down to pick up the large plastic bottle. "This one?" He turned his head to look at the old man. But all he saw was something black flying toward his face.

The old man examined the a.s.sistant manager lying on the floor. He appeared to be out cold. He returned the gun to the holster underneath his jacket and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He wound it around the wrists and ankles very slowly to avoid making the familiar screeching sound. Then one last piece for the mouth.

Now he would deal with the pharmacist.

"Ma'am? Could I ask you a question?"

"Yes, Sir," said the young female pharmacist. "How can I help you?"

"I need something for my back. An over-the-counter cream. The strongest thing you've got."

"Okay. That would be capsaicin-the extra strength version. It's on that aisle right there." She pointed to it.

"Okay. Thanks."

He walked to the aisle and looked for it. After a minute or so, he went back to the pharmacy counter. "Ma'am, I can't seem to find it."

"Okay. Just a second and I will help you," she said as she counted out pills and poured them into a bottle." She glanced at the weird old man walking back to the pain reliever aisle. He walks like a girl, she thought.

When the pharmacist met him on the aisle, he stepped back to give her room to locate the cream.

She wondered why he hadn't been able to find it-right there in front of him. She picked up the box and turned to him. "Here it is."

But her polite smile vanished when she saw the gun pointed at her chest. She automatically raised her hands.

"Put them down! Now turn around and put your hands behind you."

The old man holstered his weapon, taped her wrists, and told her to lie on the floor, face down.

He taped her ankles and then he flipped up her skirt, revealing her pink panties. "You're a s.e.xy thing, aren't you?" But there was no time for pleasure. He had a job to do. He rolled her to her side, ripped off a piece of tape and stretched it tightly across her quivering mouth and around her head.

He whispered into her ear, "Lie still-if you want to live." Then he jammed ear plugs into her ears.

The old man quickly moved behind the counter, found a stool and sat down at one of the computers, slumped down so he could not be seen from the street. He keyed in a search for every customer who had filled a prescription for v.i.a.g.r.a in the past 60 days. Then he did a similar search on Prozac, Namenda and several other drugs. He printed out the results of each search. When he was finished, he grabbed the printouts and slipped out the back door.

The a.s.sistant manager and pharmacist would be found in the morning. They would give their statements to the police, describing the scary old man. But the police would never find that old man. Because he had worn latex gloves. And because he had disguised his appearance and his voice.

And because he was nota man.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, Baby. I miss you already," said Carsie.

"Hi, Sweetie. Me too. How's it going there?" said Elmo.

"Okay, I guess. Grandma is about to show me how to make cherry divinity."

"I don't think I've ever tasted the cherrykind. I do like the white divinity. Hadley makes it at Christmas time."

"Oh, but this is much better. I'll bring you some when I come back."

"Okay."

"Are you still working? It's getting late. And I'm sure you've been sitting at that computer all day long."

"Yes, but I'm in the middle of something and I just don't want to stop right now."

"Okay, Honey. But don't stay up too late. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

Grandma walked into the kitchen as Carsie was closing her cell phone. "Talking to Elmo?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't worry, Sweetie. The wedding will be back on before you know it."

"I hope so."

"You did a great job snagging him, by the way. You looked so cute that day-he never stood a chance."

"Yeah. But I really do love him."

"Well, that's fine, as long as you don't forget what this is all about."

"I don't want to think about that."

"But you've got to come through for us."

"I will. But after that I just want to live my life with Elmo."

"Happily ever after, huh? You can try. But he might find it hard to believe you weren't in on the deal."

"He'll believe me. He loves me."

"Yeah."

"He willbelieve me as long as you and Carnie don't let on."

"Look, Honey, when you go in on a scam, it's really hard to come out clean."

"But I really think I can, Grandma."

"Okay. Give it your best shot. I won't rat you out. Neither will your sister."

"Thanks."

"Enough of this talk. Let's make some candy!"

"I'm ready," said Carsie.

"Okay, then. First, you need to gather the ingredients."

Carsie would retrieve each item as her grandmother called it out.

"Here's what you need: sugar...light corn syrup...that package of red candied cherries on the top shelf...vanilla...and eggs."

"Oh. I didn't know it had eggsin it."

"So what if it does?"

"Well, I just worry about Elmo's cholesterol."

"That's what you get for hooking up with an old man, Missy."

"Grandma!"

"I'm just kidding. Besides, you only use the egg whites, so there's no cholesterol. Of course, there isa lot of sugar."

"That's okay," said Carsie. "I won't let him pig-out on them."

Grandma led her through each step of the process. She learned that it had to be done in a precise way, even using a candy thermometer at one point. Finally, she dropped rounded teaspoonfuls of the mixture onto a sheet of waxed paper. After a sufficient cooling period, they sampled the candy.

"Mmm, yes. Perfect," Carsie said.

"And now you know how to do it yourself."

"Thanks, Grandma. Elmo's gonna love these."

Her grandmother put her arms around her and held her close. "You're so welcome, Carnie."

Carsie expected a big hug. What she got was a long kiss on the lips. She pulled away.

"Grandma! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry."

"And why did you call me Carnie?"

Macy took a break from reading her romance novel to go downstairs for milk and cookies. But first she peeked into the study and said goodnight to Elmo. She was relieved to see him alone. She half-expected to find Carnie in there, trying to seduce him. Maybe it was mean for her to think of Carsie's sister in that way. But Carnie deserved it. After all, she had made a s.e.xual advance toward Macy a few nights ago. With Carsie out of the house, who knew what Carnie might try to do with her sister's fiance?

And even though she was not interested in Carnie or any other woman in a s.e.xual way, Macy was drawn down to the bas.e.m.e.nt by a t.i.tillating curiosity. The Media Room was dark. But she saw a faint light under Carnie's door as she approached it. She pressed her ear against the door, but heard nothing.

The door jerked open, swinging away from Macy. There was Carnie, standing in the doorway. Her smooth, naked skin reflected the soft glow of the nightlight. Her body was beautiful, perfect. It begged to be touched, caressed. Macy stood in a trance as Carnie's blazing eyes saw right through her nightgown to the steamy flesh beneath.

Macy shook herself and ran for the stairs. She forgot about the milk and cookies and the romance novel. She locked her door, jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Chapter15.

The living room clock said 5:58 AM. Cynthia wondered if Greg was going be on time, or if he would even make it at all. They had worked at her mom's house until nearly 11:00 the night before. They were both getting worn down from the lack of sleep over the past few nights. But she had still managed to get herself out of bed every morning to go for her run. This would be Greg's first attempt.

There was a knock at the front door.

"Good morning. I wasn't sure you'd make it," she said.

"Well, it wasn't easy. But I told you I'd be here at 6:00, and here I am. Hey, aren't you going to be chilly in those shorts? It's 65 degrees out there."

"Only for a couple of minutes. After that I'll get warmed up. Actually, you're going to roast in that."

"But I thought you were supposed to wear a sweat shirt and sweat pants when you go running."

"You are-if you want to maximize your sweating."

"Oh, great. So maybe next time I'll wear shorts." Although he could never look that good in them, he thought. Wasn't it kind of dangerous for her to be out running the streets early in the morning by herself, looking so cute and s.e.xy? She had been doing it every day since moving to Coreyville a few years ago. But now, he would be along with her, to protect her. And he'd do his best to concentrate on the running-resisting the urge to grab her perfectly shaped b.u.t.t.

"Ready to go?" said Cynthia.

"Yep. But wait-don't we need a flashlight? It's still dark."

"Here you go." She picked up two flashlights from the small table near the door. "We'll get enough light from the street lights to see where we're going. We'll only need to turn on the flashlights when a car's coming-just to make sure they see us."

"Oh-one more thing," said Greg. He turned her around and gave her a big kiss. "Okay. Now I'm ready to go."

But as soon as he had said it, he began to have second thoughts. Maybe they should skip the running today and just lie around on the couch. But she had already opened the door, grabbed his hand, and started pulling him onto the porch.

They alternated jogging and walking, spending more time walking than Cynthia normally did.

By the time they got back to her porch at 7:00 AM, it was dawn, and Greg was exhausted. "It feels like I'm wearing concrete shoes."

"Then you'd better not go for a swim."

"Gee, I'm dying here, and my girlfriend is making jokes."