Swallowing down the last of my coffee, I placed the white mug on the table and toyed with the idea of ordering another one. My notes were now neatly concise. I didn’t have a perfect timeline, but I had a rough guide of how she may have moved. She seemed to work in six to eight week stints then disappear for a few months, returning with a new identity and persona. I thought it was strange that she was taking so long with this con. She’d been at Monte Vista High for ten weeks now, why hadn’t she made her move yet? From what I could tell, she wasn’t really conning anyone. Lying through her teeth — yes, but swindling us for money?
I shook my head as I remembered all those times I’d offered to pay for her meals…but that was chump change really. Where was the big con? Who was she secretly playing?
My forehead was starting to hurt from frowning so much. I ran my pen over the names Riley and Peyton, making them bold as I assessed the timeline.
There were still big gaps in it, schools she probably attended that I knew nothing about. Maybe she’d done longer stints at those schools?
I pressed so hard on the P of Peyton that I ended up ripping the paper.
What did it matter anyway?
I still had a picture…and it was pretty damn clear.
Danielle Harrison was a con artist. She studied her prey, figured out their weaknesses and played on them.
The idea of her using her sexuality to rope those suckers in made me sick, because it made me a sucker too. She had captured me. She had wound her way into my heart and clutched it tightly. Her sweet smile, her soft lips. She’d never been overly flirtatious. She’d known exactly what I needed in order to fall for her.
I felt like such an idiot.
Yet again, Zach Schultz strikes out.
I dropped my pen on the pad and slumped back in my seat. Looking out the window, I took in the quiet street and spotted a short-haired brunette ambling across the road. Her familiar gait made me sit forward, my eyes narrowing as I studied her.
That was the girl I saw weeks ago, the one I thought may have pulled a fast one on that rich guy. But that had just been me imaging things, right?
I flinched.
Dani.
No way. That couldn’t be right. She—
I snaffled up my pad and pen, shoving them into my bag as I jumped from the seat. I shoved a twenty on the counter as I left, knowing it was way too much, but not caring. Leaping down the stairs, I turned around the edge of the diner and spotted the girl disappearing around the next corner. I sprinted along the street, slowing as I reached the edge of the building. Ducking my head around, I felt like a secret agent as I saw her cross the road and head down an alleyway.
I waited until she’d checked my way before sliding along the wall and following her. I kept this up for about ten minutes, sneaking behind her as she worked her way through a rabbit warren of alleyways. Eventually she stopped outside a dilapidated apartment building that looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. Windows were smashed, the door was boarded up. From behind a dumpster, I watched her wiggle the bottom board free and climb in through the broken door. Once she was inside, she reached back out and slotted the piece of wood back into place.
What the hell was she doing?
I waited two minutes. I didn’t want to give her too much of a head start, but I also didn’t want her knowing I was following her. This somehow felt like her final destination. Creeping towards the door, I wiggled the board free and slithered inside. I rose up into a musky room that was an empty bar with a broken table in the corner. Soft light filtered in through the cracks between the boards, highlighting the dancing dust. I felt like I was on the set of some murder mystery show. Any second now I’d trip over a corpse and start yelling.
Pulling in much needed air through my nose, I gripped my bag strap and stepped forward. I saw a trail through the dust and followed the tracks, which lead me to a dark stairwell around the corner.
Hesitating for only a moment, I took the stairs, praying they didn’t creak as I ascended. I paused at the top, listening for noises. A quiet shuffling came from a door down the passageway. I eased towards it. Placing my hand against the wood, I pressed my ear to the door and listened.
Someone was definitely in there. It had to be her.
I tried to calm my racing heart as I wrapped my fingers around the knob. The door squeaked as I pushed it open. The brunette was standing with her back to me, but I heard her gasp then grab something off the counter as she spun to face me.
A knife hurtled through the air and I ducked just in time. It embedded into the wood above my head, vibrating from the force of the throw.
“Woah.” With bug eyes, I glanced up at her wild expression.
She turned back to the counter, snatching something else and I leaped off the floor before she could throw it. I ducked behind the table as a metal drinking canteen bounced off the floor behind me. Her breaths were punchy. I waited until I heard her shuffle towards me, then I lurched up and with two diving steps was in front of her. I grabbed her wrist and pushed her up against the wall. Slamming her hand back, I tried to dislodge the Leatherman from her hand, its corkscrew feature ready to pierce my eye.
“Stop it!” I yelled in her face and her eyes jerked towards me.
She went stock still, her lips parting in recognition.
“Zach,” she whispered.
The tool fell from her grasp, clattering against the floor. Letting go of her wrist, I placed my hand on her hair and tugged. The wig fell from its place revealing a splash of blonde.
“Shit.” I flung it across the room and backed away from her. “Shit!”
She stayed silent as I threw my bag on the floor, my eyes raking over the sparse apartment. There was a mattress on the floor in the corner with a threadbare blanket flung over it. The only other furnishing was a lone table with two rickety chairs tucked beneath it. I leaned against the back of one of them, my palms pressing into the wood.
“I didn’t want it to be true,” I finally uttered.
“How’d you find me?” She sounded scared, her eyes darting to the door as if more were about to follow. Maybe the cops? She deserved it.
I gripped the chair, keeping the thought to myself.
“I recognized you. I saw you on the street weeks ago ripping some guy off. You know, where you bumped into him and then blamed him for breaking some statuette that was already sitting headless in the box. Am I right?” My voice was terse and cutting.
She flinched and stretched her neck as if trying to lean away from the guilt.
“So who’d you swindle this time? Some old lady? Some innocent family man? How much did you get?”
Her lips pinched tight. I could see each of my questions stung. She blinked and looked to the floor, her teeth munching on that sexy bottom lip of hers.
“What do you want, Zach?” She sounded tired, beat up by my discovery.
I had expected some sneering smile or arrogant smirk, even anger would have been better than defeat. With a frown, I reached down for my backpack and slowly unzipped it. Pulling out my pad, I gripped it so tightly the pages started to scrunch.
“I want to know who you are.”
A tendon in her neck pinged tight, but her lips remained sealed. She wasn’t going to give me anything.
Fine.
I picked up the pad and couldn’t help my scathing tone. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re Taylor, the party animal who likes to prey on loser guys and take them for all they’re worth.”
Her eyes grew round, her skin paling to snowy white.
“Or maybe you’re Riley, the girl who dates rich prats hoping to swindle them for as much as you can until you leave them hanging in a shopping mall one day. Or are you in fact, Peyton a girl who likes to get it on with old guys while her friends take pictures!” I slapped the pad down.
“You’ve been investigating me?” Her anger was so heavily laced with fear, it was hard to match it. My insides jerked as she fought for composure, blinking a
t what I could only assume were tears. “Get out!” She pointed to the door, her hand trembling.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth! Who are you? Some slut who’s come here to try and blackmail some wealthy guy in town or are you after my friends? It can’t be me, because I’m not loaded. Man, you must have been disappointed that day we first pulled up at my house.”
She licked her bottom lip, looking to the ceiling as if my words weren’t killing her. “You were never the mark.”
“But I was your in though, right? I was easy prey, use me to get to Elliot or maybe Liesl. Make us feel all comfy around you and them bam, steal our money and disappear. What con were you going for this time? Which one were you playing?”
“I wasn’t,” she whispered.
“Bullshit!” I lifted the chair lightly and slammed it back onto the ground. I wanted to throw it across the room, my insides were raging so bad. How could she stand there looking so broken? She was supposed to be this horrible, selfish bitch, but all I wanted to do right now was wrap her in my arms.
Damn her.
“You’re going to use us and cut us loose. Then you’ll disappear into thin air until you turn up in the next town and go after another set of gullible victims who fall for your charms while you plan to rob them blind.”
“Shut up! You don’t know anything about me.” Even her yell sounded pathetic.
It stole my shout, whisked it from my lungs until all I could come out with was a soft denial. “I do know you. I know those beautiful eyes of yours.”
Her blue gaze hit me like an arrow through the heart. I nearly faltered over my next line, forcing it out past a lump the size of Plymouth Rock.
“I may not know your name, but I know that your favorite color is red. I know you like to compare things to chocolate, because it’s your favorite thing to eat. I know you love to do well in school, because you get this cute little smile on your face whenever you get a test or assignment back. I know your favorite style of music is country, because it’s the only one you hum to and I know that you are the strongest girl I have ever met.”
Her expression was melting, tears swarming her eyes and it was breaking me. I couldn’t let her do this to me. I stood up straight, grabbing my pad of paper and shoving it back into my bag. My eyes scanned the timeline and a thought caught up to me, one I’d been playing with over my morning coffee.
“What I can’t figure out is why you’ve stayed.” I zipped my bag. “You should have left a couple of weeks ago. You’ve broken your pattern. Is there a bigger score here?” The question fueled my anger and I spat it out, feeling more in control as I did. “You should have gotten your money and moved on by now. Why? Why— whoever the hell you are—have you stayed? Why’ve you stayed!”
“Because I can’t walk away from you!” She shouted back at me, then closed her eyes and pressed her head against the wall. A lone tear was set free. I watched it run down the right side of her face, soon followed by another on the left. I wanted to step towards her, to wipe them off her soft skin, but I couldn’t move.
Me?
I hadn’t been expecting that.
I let the silence reign, too shocked to fill it. Finally she sniffed and wiped at her own tears. Her voice was broken and small. “I did have a plan. Danville’s a rich town. It was supposed to be a quick in and out, but I couldn’t do it. Meeting you that first day just screwed everything up and I remember thinking, ‘No, you can do this. Just let today slide and start again tomorrow.’ Every night I said that to myself and every day I’d see you. And those mornings at the pool. Man, and you’re just so hot! But worse than that, you’re kind and intelligent and you’ve got these amazing eyes that can see right into the soul. You notice everything. That should be dangerous for me, but I just find it so compelling.” She lightly thumped the wall with her head, making me feel a hundred feet tall. “For the first time in my life, I have friends I actually like and I’ve met a guy I want to kiss. Not because I’m being forced to or because I’m playing any kind of role. Kissing you is like eating chocolate.” She swallowed, her cheeks warming with a blush. “Zach, this is the closest to normal I’ve ever come and I just can’t bring myself to walk away from it. You.” She squeaked the word, pointing at me and shaking her head. “You make it impossible to leave.”
I was in front her before I could stop myself, running my thumbs over her cheeks, brushing at her tears. Our breath mingled together as we locked gazes, both searching for the genuine truth. Tears lined her delicate lashes as she whispered, “I don’t want to run anymore.”
“Then don’t.” I gripped the side of her face, pulling her lips towards mine.
Our mouths crushed together, a hot desperate mess. She clung to my waist, gripping my shirt as if it were the only thing stopping her from falling. I kissed her senseless, pouring out every emotion I’d been wrestling with for the last few days. I never wanted to let her go again. I never wanted to yell at her or accuse her of being anything but who she was in this moment.
There were more secrets, more truths that had yet to be uttered, but right this second she was my girl and that’s all that mattered.
Chapter 25
ZACH
May 2014
We ended up in bed together. Not naked and we didn’t have sex either, but as the kissing intensified I was propelled to lift her into my arms and walk her towards the lone mattress on the floor. We flopped onto it, our lips still playing tango. We couldn’t pull away from each other. It was like we were both scared that if we did, reality would sneak back in and we’d have to face what I’d learned and what she still had to tell me.
But neither of us made the move to take it any further then hot, wet making out.
Finally Dani pulled away, her blue eyes fiery as she took me in. “I need a breath.” She pushed back, but I wouldn’t let her go. Instead I laid back and pulled her against me. She tucked her head under my chin and wrapped her leg over my knee and around my calf. It felt amazing being tangled up against her.
I brushed my lips over her forehead as she ran her hand up my shirt, playing with a loose thread near the collar.
As my heart rate slowly decelerated, I let my eyes travel around the room. I noticed a pile of books in the corner, neatly organized for school. Next to that was a small stack of tatty novels and next to them were three neat piles of clothes — pants, shirts and two sweaters. Her red Converse rested on top of a bag, which I assumed contained her socks and underwear. In spite of the fact it was on the floor, it was very orderly. Across the room was a kitchen counter with a grimy sink and two gas hobs that looked as though they hadn’t been lit this century. She obviously did no cooking here, so what was with the utility knife? I glanced at the door. The blade she’d thrown at my head was still sticking out from the frame.
I couldn’t believe she lived here. It made my heart bleed imagining her wrapped up under the light-weight cover on her own. The place was as warm and friendly as a jail cell.
“Where’s your dad?” I whispered.
Her long fingers stilled and my body automatically tensed. I tried not to let it show, but I’m sure she felt my pecks tighten. She took her time answering. I couldn’t help wondering if she was trying to think of a good story, still playing her Dani role, or if she was summoning the courage to tell me the truth.
“My parents are dead,” she whispered.
I whipped my head to look at her, taking in her pale skin and the haunted look in her eyes.
The truth. It fit and explained so much about her.
I squeezed her shoulder. “I thought you said you had a dad?”
“I lied.” Her voice was tiny.
I forgave her with another kiss to the forehead. “How’d they die?”
The pause was so long and pregnant I thought she wouldn’t answer me. Eventually a detached voice drifted into the room, “They were murdered.”
My lungs went dry, devoid of air, as I tried to take in what she was saying to me.
“When?”
“I was thirteen.”
“And, um, how old are you now?”
Her head shifted on my shoulder as she looked up at me. “Eighteen. Same as you. I never lied about that.”
Not this time anyway. I kept my thoughts to myself, trying to forget the fact she’d played an eighteen-year-old senior only last year when she was trying to con Miles Filmore.
I shut my eyes, forcing myself to focus back on the questions I had for her. She was talking the truth for once and I had to take advantage of it.
“Did you—were you there when they died?”
Her head moved on my shoulder again, snuggling into me as if trying to block out the images. I held her tight, knowing I wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
Yet again a detached voice relayed the information. “It was after dinner…on a school day. I’d just got the lead in the spring musical and we were celebrating. Mom sent me down to the basement to get ice cream from the chest freezer. As I was nearing the top of the stairs, this man showed up…” She sniffed and shook her head. “I watched it through a crack in the door…and then I ran.”
“Why didn’t you run to the police?”
She pushed off me, sitting up and facing the wall. I sat forward and ran my hand down her back, resting my chin on her shoulder.
“My parents were killed by a dirty cop. I couldn’t go to the police. So I ran. That’s what I do best. I run, Zach.” She turned to face me, our noses brushing against each other. “I never wanted to be a bad person. I never meant to steal, but I had to survive.” She let out a wry laugh. “I don’t know why. My life has been pretty shitty, but something in me needs to survive.” Her body began to tremble beneath my fingertips. “I don’t want to die like they did.” Her voice tripped and I could sense the tears returning.
“Shhhh. It’s okay,” I whispered.
“You can’t tell anybody you know me.” She turned in my arms, her eyes pleading as she reached for my face. “You have to stick with the Dani story, do you understand me?”
I Know Lucy (The Fugitive Series) Page 16