The Dealership: A Novel Opening for National Novel Writing Month

"You'd look awful pretty behind the wheel of that car, missy." He pronounced it purty: "You'd look awful purty". Kay looked around at the man standing behind her. He was the quintessential used-car salesman: slicked-back hair, polyester suit, silly tie. She regarded him with a combination of amusement and annoyance. She would have preferred to speak with someone who wouldn't hand her some backwoods macho routine. Nevertheless, she did have an interest in the smoke-blue Saab convertible on the lot for what seemed a bargain price.

"Would'ja like to take her for a spin?" he offered. "I can just see ya driving down the road, with the wind fluffin' out all that purty red hair." He leaned closer to her, and she could smell cheap cologne and sweat, and something else. She was no longer amused; actually, she was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm on my lunch break, and I was just kind of window-shopping," she said, backing away. He grinned at her and said, "Well, I can't guarantee it'll be here tomorrow, but you're more than welcome to stop by anytime." Kay turned her back on his greasy smile and retreated to her Cutlass. The little convertible would have been an impulse buy, anyway, she consoled herself; not very practical. It certainly wasn't worth putting up with that creep, she thought, looking in her rearview mirror at the dwindling salesman, who stood in the same place, staring and staring after her as she drove off. She shivered just a little, relieved to be out of there. The guy had probably just been a ridiculously clumsy flirt, but he had really given her a pretty good case of the heebie-jeebies.

Kay's body was found several hours later by a stockboy who had stepped out of the Harris Teeter to have a smoke. Climbing up the hill behind the store to a wooded area to escape the heat of the July afternoon, he had stuck the cigarette between his lips and retrieved his lighter from his front pants pocket. When he brought the lighter up to his mouth, his eyes caught a flash of color in the trees. As the object at which he stared came into horrifying focus, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open, making barely audible noises. The cigarette fell to the ground, unlit.