Fatal Attractions

by Jeanne Foguth

  As she and Tempest drove past a black Ford Bronco, which was parked down the street her skin crawled. Ariel noticed how black and sinister its windows were. Perhaps that was what had made her shudder.

  Or maybe it was whoever hid behind the dark panes.

  Ariel shook her head at her continued paranoia and drove to the University to deliver her lecture. As she pulled into the drop-off circle to let Tempest off at the library, the black Bronco passed her. She caught her breath.

  "Sherry, what's wrong?"

  She gestured to the Ford.

  "Oh. I didn't know the new tenants were profs, too."

  "You know them?"

  "Not really. Uncle Link said a couple guys rented the last available townhouse."

  Somehow Tempest's explanation didn't sooth her. "I'll be back to pick you up in two and a half hours. Whatever you do, do not - repeat, do not - talk to strangers, even if you think-"

  "Sherry, you're repeating yourself. I know not to talk to anyone. I know to sit with my back to the wall and nowhere near a corner. I'm not stupid." She hopped out of the Suburban and headed for the imposing doors, her step jaunty.

  Ariel swallowed hard as she fought the temptation to call her sister back. The driver behind her tapped the horn. She squared her shoulders and accelerated. As she parked on the other side of campus, she chewed her lip and tried to convince herself that it was better if they were split up.

  Twenty minutes later, she stepped behind the lectern, put her doubts aside and launched into a lecture on kinesiology as it related to the anatomy of the human hand. As she spoke, students stared at the palms of their hands. "While this technique does not replace conventional forms of testing, it can corroborate results." She smiled at her silent audience. Only one pair of familiar dark eyes looked back. Her throat went dry and the man sitting in the back of the room gave her a slight smile. Ariel's knees loosened. She grasped the lectern for support and looked down at her notes, but they blurred.

  She took a deep breath. I can do this.

  "In summary, many physicians believe applied kinesiology can be used to diagnose and treat problems in their early stages. Now, I have an assignment for you. Write a thousand word report on the comparison between the non-invasive diagnostic techniques of kinesiology and acupuncture." The students groaned. "Calm down. I'd like it one week from today."

  While the undergraduates gathered their belongings and trekked out of the hall, Peter leaned back and studied her. Ariel forced herself to appear calm as she collected her notes. Once she escaped out the side door, it was all she could do to keep a sedate pace as she went to the parking lot.

  She spotted Tempest waiting near the Suburban. When she realized her sister was talking to a tall, thin man, wearing a leather jacket and mirrored sunglasses, a chill ran over her arms. Uncle Link said a couple guys rented the last available townhouse. More chills ran up and down Ariel's body. Was she just being paranoid or was Peter gathering information and verifying their identity in tandem with an accomplice? As Tempest looked up, Ariel waved at her and pointed to the Suburban.

  Tempest shook her head, then simpered up at the man.

  The idiot.

  Ariel jabbed her finger at the car.

  Tempest glared at her, then looked back at the man and smiled. Ariel quickened her pace and prickles crossed her back. Her heart pounded against her ribs and she fought the temptation to look over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. With a fluff of her hair, Tempest opened the car door, then leaned against it and continued what appeared to be a flirtation with the stranger. Ariel glared at the little fool across the tops of two cars. “Get in the car, now. We’re running late.” Tempest’s thunderous expression suggested that the only thing on her mind was having lost the chance to pretend she was a coed.

  The tingling sensation at the back of her neck intensified until all she could think about was turning around and finding out how close Peter was. The ten feet separating her from the Suburban felt like miles. Was that thudding behind her footfalls? She hastened for the last three steps. Her hand shook as she slid the key into the lock.

  A man chuckled behind her. Ariel tensed, remembering how Peter loved torturing people. "And then what did you do?" a strange voice asked. A woman giggled, but blood was pounding so loud in her ears that Ariel didn't hear the response.

  She slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

  Tempest hopped in. Ariel locked the doors and started the engine. "Sheesh, what's wrong with you?"

  "You were talking to a stranger." She rammed the transmission into gear and accelerated out of the parking slot. The next row over, a dark Bronco moved.

  "Josh? He's at the library all the-" With a squeal from the wheels, Ariel accelerated. Tempest was thrown backward. She grabbed the edge of the seat. Face white, she asked, "Practicing your defensive driving or are you that mad at me?"

  "Duck," she snapped.

  Tempest flattened herself. Ariel spun the wheel and sped onto College Road. "You are mad at me." Tempest's muffled voice sounded angry.

  "We're being followed. Probably by your wonderful new friend from the library, who probably works for your father. And by the way, Peter sat in on my lecture, today." Tempest moaned. “Possibly he’s driving the vehicle that is following us or its the jerk you were drooling over.” Ariel spun the wheel and took the corner onto Steese on two wheels.

  The Bronco's driver matched her skill as she floored the accelerator and headed for Chena Hot Springs, the Bronco kept an even distance. City quickly gave way to country. Within a mile, the traffic dropped to half what it had been.

  This was not working.

  She slowed to a sedate pace. So did the Ford.

  "Is it safe now?"

  "We’re still being followed, but I don't think they want to shoot us." Probably whoever was in the vehicle was being paid extra to allow Peter that privilege. Ariel looked for a turnaround. "You can sit up."

  Tempest straightened and looked out the back window. "That car belongs to our new neighbors." Ariel made a non-committal sound. "You think they work for Father."

  Ariel spotted a turnaround and whipped onto it. Tempest yelped and grabbed the seat. The Bronco followed them. "What do you think?"

  "He recognized us."

  "If he didn't, I was stupid enough to confirm our identities when I ran." Tempest's eyes looked enormous in her ashen face. "There's only one way out. We're going to the police station." She floored the accelerator.

  "No!"

  "Can you think of a better plan?"

  "He'll kill us."

  "Either way, he knows where we are. It's only a matter of time."

  "We've got to run. Leave Mozart, just run."

  "Where to? We've only got a quarter tank of gas. For a state that makes the stuff, you'd think there'd be more stations." She turned right. "One thing I didn't notice when I accepted this job is that unless I want to hit a dead end in the middle of nowhere, there are about two roads heading out of town." She whipped the Suburban into the police station’s parking lot.

  Tempest wailed.

  Ariel winced.

  The Bronco slowed, then parked three spaces away from her.

  Ariel unsnapped her seatbelt.

  "What – where are you going? Sherry, don't go out there," Tempest hissed.

  "Do you remember our current bio?" Tempest's nod was shaky. "I'm Ariel. I'm your mother." Tears pooled in Tempest's eyes. "As soon as I get out, lock the damned doors and stay low." Tempest nodded. “And for God’s sake, quit thinking people aren’t strangers just because they tell you a name!” A tear trickled down her cheek.

  Before she lost her resolve, Ariel slammed the door. Squaring her shoulders, she stalked to the Bronco's driver-side window and knocked.

  She looked at her reflection and tried to look angry instead of afraid. Seconds seemed like hours. Finally, the black glass rolled down and she faced the man from the parking lot. Thank God, her plan just might work. "Do you mind tel
ling me why you've been stalking me and my daughter?" she demanded, her tone loud enough to attract the attention of a passing woman.

  The man's thin lips tilted up. "I wasn't following you, lady." Red crept up his neck at the lie. Whoever he was, she’d bet Peter wouldn’t hire him, again.

  Ariel's knees stopped knocking. She snorted with disdain. "Then perhaps you can explain why you're here."

  "What's wrong with parking here?" He couldn't meet her gaze.

  Ariel put her fists on her hips and glared at him. As an officer came out of the police station, she took a breath. "I don't believe you." She raised her pitch. "You followed me from the University, first North, than back into town. Now you're here. Why are you stalking me?"

  Hand on his holster, the officer turned to study them.

  "I saw you follow me from home earlier, too. What kind of a pervert are you?"

  The officer unsnapped his holster and headed her way, hand on the butt of his gun.

  "Look lady, I don't kno-"

  "Is there a problem here?" the officer asked.

  "Yes," Ariel said.

  "No," the man said.

  Ariel glared at the man than turned to the officer. "This man followed me from my home to the University this morning. He was standing in the parking lot chatting up my fifteen-year-old daughter, when I finished giving my lecture. And he's spent the last twenty minutes following me from the University. I'd say that qualifies as a problem." She swiveled back to the man. "What kind of pervert are you?"

  Perspiration beaded his face.

  "Is that true?" the officer asked.

  "Yes it is," Tempest called from the cracked window of the Suburban. "He's scaring my mama and me."

  "I'm not a stalker."

  "You sure act like one," Ariel snapped.

  "I've been hired to find –" He rummaged in some papers on the front seat. The officer half-drew his gun. The man held up her college graduation photo. He held up a second photo of Tempest at six. They quivered in his hands.

  Ariel arched an eyebrow at the long-gone chubby cheeks and blond hair. "Surely you don't think either my daughter or I are these people."

  The officer looked from the photo to her and seemed torn between amusement and suspicion.

  "He said you like to disguise yourself."

  "Who said?" Ariel demanded.

  The man's face flushed. "My employer. I'm an investigator-"

  "Is he?" Ariel asked the officer. "Don't they need licenses or something? I mean surely, people can't just say they're investigators than stalk people at their will."

  "Sir, would you please get out of the car?"

  "This has all been a misunderstanding."

  "Please, get out."

  "Are you arresting me?"

  When the officer hesitated, Ariel said, “I’ll be happy to file charges, if that’s what you need.” Before the officer could respond, the man started the Bronco and accelerated out of the parking lot.

  Relief left Ariel weak. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come along."

  "Would you still like to file a formal complaint?" Ariel nodded, then motioned to Tempest.

  She scrambled out of the Suburban, ran to her and threw her arms around her waist. "I can't believe you did that." The muffled words still conveyed fright.

  "I can't believe I found the guts to confront him, either."

  "Ladies." The officer motioned toward the step of the Police Department as he ushered them inside.

  Chapter 23

  Stone put his feet up on the coffee table, leaned back in his favorite chair and dialed the phone. As Windy's phone in Austin, Texas rang, he watched the headlines move across the bottom of CNN's muted broadcast. Since it was after seven her time and no new airline crashes were a top story, she should be at home. But after the forth ring there was a musical tone. "You have reached 555-2951." He groaned. Was she avoiding him and using her answering machine to run interference? "If this is the number you wanted, please stay on the line and leave a message. I will return you ca-"

  He slammed down the receiver. "Promises, promises." He'd already left three messages, which she hadn’t returned.

  Stone clicked off the mute button. "OPEC’s security team is partnering in the investigation with –" Stone turned off the television, effectly cutting off the anchorman's confident tones. He'd had quite enough of the big brouhaha the media was making over a stupid fisherman, who just happened to be part of OPEC and how the media was turning the guy’s ignorance into some sort of murder cover-up.

  He picked up the newspaper and flipped through the pages, but The Miner’s reporters were just as bad. Why couldn't there be an article on why women acted devious? Perhaps he should write and ask the editors if all women resorted to deception or if he attracted the ones that did. Did women feel a need to hide personal faults? Did he need to harden his heart before it was shredded? What if he ignored the Danners and later discovered their sudden interest in weapons and self-defense had its roots in a real threat?

  Knowing the truth about them would make it much easier, especially after Marishka’s pathological lies. He jaw tightened. If it hadn't been for his beautiful ex, he'd bet his last dollar that Ariel had intentionally mislead him because of past pain and a distrust of men. Her ex must be a real piece of work. Worse, he knew how people chose mates that consciously or sub-consciously reminded them of their fathers and thus perpetuated a cycle of pain and humiliation, so Ariel had probably been abused as a kid. He frowned, remembering her account of the cat’s murder, which defiantly sounded like emotional abused. And that was normally worse than physical abuse, because too often it went unnoticed.

  What had Ariel’s mother been thinking when she agreed to let her husband take the kid on a jungle hunt?

  There was a jangle of keys then the back door squeaked open. He needed to oil that hinge, instead of think about it. Of course, there were myriad of things he should do instead of think about doing, like getting the Cessna's altimeter repaired.

  Link's distinctive tread moved across the linoleum.

  "Need any help?" he called.

  "You can set the table," Link said. Stone winced because Link had asked him to do that before he’d run to the bakery. "Or if you're busy, I'll just have Tempest do it when she gets here."

  Stone threw the paper down and surged out of his chair. Because Windy was ignoring him, he would be forced to face another evening of playing brotherly neighbor, when what he really wanted to do was kiss Ariel senseless. He went to the kitchen door and looked at Link, who was putting away some groceries, while leaving items he intended to use on the island-counter, around a huge chocolate cake.

  "You planning something special or should I just set a basic table?"

  Link rolled his eyes and laughed. "You expect me to put on a feed like your mother or something?"

  Stone shook his head. A big Chinook sprawled over a large portion of the sink-counter. "Near miss?" he asked, as he reached for the plates.

  "Only fifty-six pounds."

  King salmon needed to be at least sixty pounds to qualify for a trophy. "Too bad."

  "Good for us," Link said. He began honing his filleting knife.

  Stone put napkins and silverware on top of the plates. "Want me to make a batch of Johnny cake?"

  "Sounds good to me." Link deftly slit the fish.

  Stone put his favorite skillet in the oven then turned it on. While it heated, he set the table. Upon returning to the kitchen, he spotted Tempest's elfin face peering through one of the backdoor’s panes. He motioned for her to come in. Her eyes rounded and she looked pointedly at the pile of fish entrails next to Link and shook her head so hard that her hair looked like a black and fuchsia blur. He laughed.

  "You think this is funny, you get over here and stick you hand into-"

  "I wasn't laughing at you," Stone cut in. "You should have seen Tempest's face when she saw the salmon." Link glanced over his shoulder, at the now empty pane "She eith
er went back home or is with the dogs," Stone explained. Link grunted.

  Stone cleared a section of counter, which was closer to the cake than the fish and began mixing batter. After he poured the mixture into the hot pan, he went to the window and watched Tempest engage Agamemnon in a rollicking game of Frisbee. She was a great kid. It'd be fun being her dad. He shook his head, at the thought, turned his back to the door and sniffed. Lemon overpowered the scent of fish and mingled tantalizingly with the aroma of jalapenos and corn. "Smells good."

  "Thanks."

  There was a commotion at the front door. "You want the desert in the kitchen or on the table?" Ariel called.

  "No space in here," Link said.

  Stone headed for the dinning room. She looked beautiful. He felt his muscles relax and a smile form. "Need any help?"

  She shook her head and placed a pineapple upside-down cake at the center of the table. "What's Tempest doing? Helping Link?"

  "Playing Frisbee. I don't think she wanted to deal with fish guts. And I gotta admit that I don’t blame her."

  Ariel wrinkled her nose. "I can appreciate that."

  She adjusted the placement of a cherry, so it stood at the precise center of the pineapple ring, then she brushed past him and went into the kitchen. “Oh, you already had desert.” Parts of him sang with glee at the brief contact. Other parts shouted for more. He clenched his hands so he wouldn't reach out and grab her.

  Link laughed. “Cake is always good and the more the better.”

  "Surely you don't expect the four of us to eat all that," Ariel said, pointing to the filleted salmon.

  "I have hundreds of recipes for left over salmon," Link assured her.

  Ariel shook her head. "What you need are hundreds of people that are really hungry. Have you considered the local Food Bank?"

  "I hadn't, but it’s a good idea. I was going to freeze most of this, but it's not like we need more salmon."

  As Ariel brushed her hair back over her shoulder, her hand came tantalizingly close to his chest. Stone bit back a groan of frustration. She tensed and looked backward. He smiled. Her look turned frosty. Damn, but her ex must have been a piece of work for her to distrust him so much.