Waiting For A Star To Fall (Autumn Brody Book 2)

by A. C. Dillon

"Veronica, stop!" Evan shouted. "See what?"

  Her face ashen, she tugged against Mirza's restraining grip. "I know someone with a car. One person in this city, who calls me 'The Little Canadian Who Could'. Gabriel."

  "He fits," Autumn whispered. "A friend. A helping hand. God, how did we not see this?"

  "The garage," Veronica insisted. "I have to know if he took the train or his car. Come on!"

  As a group, there was a rush towards the stairwell, with Kevin taking the lead and Mirza bringing up the rear. Autumn did her best to suppress her physical pain, although Andrew wasn't fooled. Mercifully, he simply held onto her arm, steadying her. Veronica called out directions, leading them to the second floor of the parking garage and immediately ordering them to the far west corner.

  "What does he drive?" Kevin demanded.

  "A 2000 Honda Civic. Silver."

  Kevin grimaced. "So, the most common car a working student could own? Wonderful."

  Mirza forced Veronica to remain near the wall, sending Kevin ahead to search the rows of parked cars for slot 197B on the grid. Their building was fifty-five stories high with expansive parking lots to match, making it difficult to navigate the rows with any real ease. The numbering system, Andrew soon grumbled about, also made little sense. When Kevin finally located the correct space over forty feet away, he cursed loudly.

  "No car!" he shouted.

  Veronica began to sob, slumping to her knees. "Of all the goddamn days to go to Jersey, Gabriel!"

  Autumn staggered ahead, ignoring Mirza as he phoned for police assistance. If this was anything like her book, there might be a way to confirm it. Her sandals slapped against the cold concrete as she headed towards Kevin, who was crouched close to the ground. He's ahead of me, she realized. Sheepishly, she wondered why she'd doubted him. He's been so careful with her. Of course he's looking for traces of brake fluid.

  "Anything?" she asked tentatively.

  With a troubled look, Kevin nodded. "It's a small leak. He could drive for quite some time before the brakes actually gave out entirely."

  "So it's possible to stop this?"

  A shared look between them spoke volumes. Mirza confirmed that the police were en route, but neither of them seemed concerned with it. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Kevin rushed towards Veronica.

  "Do you know Gabriel's number?" he asked brusquely.

  "It's in my phone, but I don't... I'm bad with numbers!" she wailed. "I've always been bad with them..."

  "It's okay, V. Let's just get your phone," Autumn coached her. "Where is it?"

  "On the kitchen table... Gabriel... He doesn't deserve this."

  Mirza remained in the garage, the rest of them returning to the supposed safety of the apartment. Kevin made quick work of retrieving Veronica's cell and dialing Gabriel's number. Putting it on speaker, he began to search through the living room—for what, Autumn wasn't certain. More letters? Devices to spy on her friend?

  "Hello?"

  "Gabe!" Veronica shouted. "You're alive!"

  Alive, perhaps, but now clearly concerned. "Veronica, what's wrong? What happened?"

  In the background, she heard the unmistakable sounds of gunned engines and a sporadic honked horn. He's in the car. Any minute now, the brakes could go. Autumn searched her memory in vain, struggling to recall her research on how to handle failing brakes as a driver.

  "Gabriel, this is Kevin, Veronica's bodyguard. I assume you are currently driving?"

  "Yeah, I'm on my way to my aunt's house. Do I need to turn around? Did someone hurt Veronica?"

  "No... Gabriel, I need you to remain calm. There is a possibility that your vehicle has been tampered with."

  Autumn slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, no longer able to ignore the ache in her side. Jeremy took residence in the chair across from her, his normally golden complexion tinged green.

  "What do you mean by 'tampered'?" Gabriel asked nervously.

  Kevin tried another tack. "Have you noticed anything unusual about the way your car is handling? Any odd rattles, lights not responding, steering issues?"

  A loud honk cut through the apartment and the entire group winced. They could hear Gabriel mutter under his breath, followed by a short screech. A fumbling on the other end elicited a frightened gasp from Veronica.

  "Gabe! You okay? Talk to me!" she pleaded.

  "Shit! That was weird. Stupid jerk cut me off. Barely able to brake in time..." A muttered curse and a deep breath betrayed his panic.

  "Okay, Gabriel? I need you to tell me where exactly you're driving right now. I need a road, exits, anything to help me map your coordinates," Kevin stated calmly. "I also need you to decelerate as much as possible without disrupting traffic flow. Ease your foot off the gas a bit to do so. Do not touch the brakes if you can help it," he stressed.

  "Okay... Okay, you're scaring the shit out of me, man. What's wrong with my car?"

  "We're not sure," Andrew chimed in, lying through his teeth. "We're going to map your coordinates and find a good place for you to stop. We'll come and get you."

  Kevin mouthed his thanks to Andrew as he reached for his tablet. Swiping at the screen, he entered a few commands and pulled up a broad map of New York and New Jersey states.

  "Where are you, Gabriel?" Kevin repeated.

  "I'm on the I-95 south... pretty close to the toll stop before the I-195 west... Fuck, this traffic is crazy... It's slowing down..."

  "Slow's no good," Jeremy mumbled. "Oh God, this is bad..."

  "Shut up!" Autumn hissed.

  "That's fine," Kevin reassured Gabriel. "That's a really good place to stop. There will be places to pull over. I want you to get into the far lane for the EZ-Pass, alright?"

  "Okay, fine. I was already in that lane... I can't stop, can I? Oh shit, oh shit..."

  "You damn well can stop, but you have to listen to me!" Kevin commanded. "If you do everything I say, the car will stop safely. Okay?"

  "Listen to him, Gabriel!" Autumn echoed. "It's going to be fine. They teach defensive driving like this in the military." She had no idea if it was true, but she assumed that a personal protection officer would master evasive driving. Close enough.

  "Okay man, the line-up's about 150 feet away..."

  Kevin’s voice was firm and steady. "First step: take your foot off the gas slowly. No brakes. A smooth lift off the pedal, alright?"

  "Okay... okay, I did that."

  "How fast are you going?" Kevin asked.

  "Fifty-five... fifty-three..."

  From outside, the sound of police sirens grew from a hushed whistle to a clamor. "Automatic car, right?"

  "Yes! Fuck, they're too close..." Gabriel was beginning to panic.

  "Downshift one gear, Gabriel. Prepare to steer off onto the shoulder. What's your speed now?"

  "Forty... Thirty-nine... I should turn off—"

  "Not yet," Kevin insisted. "Downshift again and keep straight as long as it's safe. It'll prevent sliding out. We want to stop your car with control. We're in control, Gabriel."

  Andrew was behind her now, rubbing her shoulders as they collectively held their breath, praying and wishing for their friend's safety. Veronica was curled up in Evan's lap, tears silently streaming down her cheek. She listened intently to the other end of the line, seemingly memorizing every moment of her roommate's ordeal.

  "Thirty-five... I can shift down one more..." A horn blasted over the phone and Gabriel cursed. "Cabrón!"

  "Shift it down... How close are you to the next vehicle?"

  "Maybe twenty feet?"

  "He doesn't have enough space," Evan murmured.

  "No, he doesn't," Kevin agreed. "Gabriel, turn the wheel slowly and veer towards the shoulder. Throw on your hazards and when the speed drops below thirty, I want you to try the parking brake. Not the standard brake. Do you understand?"

  "Okay, got it... Shit, shit, shit..." More honking, more choice words in Spanish as Autumn listened with baited breath.

  "Count the speed
out for me!" Kevin yelled, waving Andrew towards a growing commotion outside of the apartment.

  "Thirty-three.... Crap, crap, crap... Thirty-one..."

  Autumn was drawn in several directions at once: Gabriel's voice; Veronica's growing panic; Andrew doing his best to dissuade the cops from entering, urging them to keep quiet. Jeremy was trembling in his chair, leaning closer and closer to the phone as Kevin confidently stood over it, glancing occasionally at his tablet screen.

  "TWENTY-NINE!" Gabriel screamed.

  "Hit the parking brake and pull over!" Kevin's order evoked every memory of every military movie Autumn had ever seen.

  As the police forced themselves into the apartment, oblivious to the very real and immediate danger somewhere on the Jersey Turnpike, the room was filled with a terrifying sound:

  A dial tone.

  "NO!" Veronica screamed, lunging for the phone. "No, no, you get back on this line!" She redialed quickly, her body swaying side to side. "Gabriel Medina, you will pick up this phone and tell me you are fine and safe and... and..."

  From beside her, Autumn could hear his voicemail kick in. We were so close... There's no way he... He can't be gone...

  "He could survive a crash at that speed," Jeremy whispered.

  "He did not crash!" Veronica yelled, dialing again.

  An officer edged forwards, the bolder of the pair. "What's going on? Your colleague said something about a tampered car."

  "What's going on is my friend is going to pick his damn phone up and tell me he stopped the car," Veronica snapped, redialing a third time.

  Evan’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. "Maybe he dropped it while pulling over.”

  "Maybe you're calling each other at the same time and getting voicemail?" Andrew theorized.

  Hurling her phone onto the couch, Veronica growled. "Kevin! Can't you track him? Call someone? Can't you call someone?" she asked the police. "He's at the exit for the I-195 west off the Turnpike."

  "This is connected to the ongoing investigation into your stalker, Ms. St. Clair?"

  Veronica was clearly exasperated. "Yes, not that it matters. Gabriel had no brakes! What if he couldn't get the car onto the shoulder? What if the parking brake didn't work?"

  "I can radio into dispatch and get them in touch with the toll station, but it may take—"

  “Already on it,” Kevin snapped. “Don’t strain yourselves.”

  From the couch, a small electronic burst of song. Veronica scrambled for it, swiping three times before her gesture registered.

  "Gabriel? Is that you?"

  A voice, shaky but struggling to be lighthearted, came over the speaker. "Having a little car trouble, Veronica. Any way a friend can get a ride?"

  Relieved shouts and cheers flooded the apartment as the police stood aside, bewildered. Jeremy was perhaps the most enthusiastic of all, vigorously shaking Kevin's hand and walking in literal circles, grinning.

  "You bet your sweet Latino ass." A giggle slipped from Veronica's lips as she beamed from ear to ear. "I love you, Gabe."

  "Love you too, girl. Now hurry up: it's damn hot out here without air conditioning."

  "I'm sending Mirza for you right now," Kevin called out, tapping on his ear piece. "We're coordinating with state police."

  Arrangements made, Autumn embraced her friend as tightly as her ribs would allow. "We did it," Veronica told her. "He didn't win this time."

  "He's just a person," Autumn replied softly. "And people make mistakes. Maybe this is the one that finally nails his ass to the wall."

  Veronica broke their embrace first, stepping backwards. It was in that moment that Autumn knew her friend had been irrevocably changed by her stalker's onslaught of unwanted attention. Where once her blue eyes sparkled with a zest for life, they were flat and icy, her pupils coal black. Rage. Autumn was intimately acquainted with it.

  "It will be. And I plan to be holding the hammer."

  SEVENTEEN

  Shaken by the intrusion on her home, Veronica packed her belongings in haste, returning to the hotel with her friends. With a little luck (and pressure from her security detail), they checked in on the same floor as Autumn and Andrew’s suite. A look exchanged between Autumn and Evan assured her that he would draw Veronica out of the cold shell she'd been hidden within for hours. She can't hide forever. Unfortunately, neither could Autumn: tucked in bed at nine-thirty with her laptop, she heard her proverbial toll of the bell.

  "It's your Mom," Andrew said, handing over her ringing phone.

  "Damn it!" Murphy's Law: take a painkiller, mother calls. Inhaling a small, steadying breath, Autumn answered the phone as cheerily as she could. "Hi, Mom. How are you?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I'm currently looking for flights to New York so I can throw you over my shoulder and bring you home!"

  Autumn winced, resisting the urge to tug the blankets over her head. "Mom, please calm down."

  "Calm down? Are you serious? Autumn Marie, your name is plastered all over the news alongside Veronica's. We knew she was being harassed, but you said nothing about murder!"

  "Technically, no one's been confirmed dead," Autumn countered weakly, looking to Andrew for help. He threw his hands up in defeat, waving the ice bucket at her before walking away.

  "Baby, you sound exhausted. Are you okay?" A loaded question, coming from her mother. "Is Andrew looking after you?"

  It took very little debate—likely because of the narcotics flowing in her veins—to decide that honesty would be the best policy. "I had a bad flashback," she admitted. "Like right after the hospital. I took a fall..."

  "How bad of a fall?" her mother demanded.

  "I sorta bruised my ribs?"

  "That's it: I'm coming out there."

  "Mom, no. I've been seen by doctors and I just need rest, I promise. There's really no need—"

  "Then you're coming home tomorrow, Autumn. I'm not letting you risk your safety. Not again. Not after what happened before."

  She winced at her mother's words, the full weight of them pressing upon her aching chest. Like I risked my safety by not reporting my abusive ex, or risked my safety trying to solve murders on campus. Really, she couldn't fault her mother for worrying; she was lucky to have parents who cared so deeply.

  "Our flight is Friday, and we're sticking to it. Veronica is scared. She was there for me during the worst time of my life. I won't abandon her."

  A begrudging sigh on the other end of the call. "Your father may come and forcibly drag you home. He's not rational when it comes to his little girl. You know that."

  "The doctor wants me resting until Tuesday. Tell him it's against medical advice for me to travel." Noticing Andrew hadn't yet returned, Autumn decided it was as good a time as any to ask questions. "Mom? Was Great-Grandma Louise in a war?"

  Her mother coughed, a nervous habit Autumn had picked up on years ago. "Um... Women weren't soldiers back in her day."

  "But women were nurses, weren't they?" Autumn prodded, remembering Louise's words.

  "Why are you asking me this?" Her mother sounded even more upset now. The quiver in her voice sent a shiver down Autumn's spine.

  "Well, was she?"

  "She was, from what I understand, part of the Voluntary Aid Detachment in World War I. She'd been working in a hospital for a few years prior to signing up. I think she was at Gallipoli... Her knowledge of Greek and basic Turkish would have been handy, I guess..." A long pause. "You've seen something, haven't you?"

  "Have you? Seen something, I mean?"

  "Answering a question with a question simply answers in the affirmative, Autumn. Every mother knows that." Before Autumn could protest, her mother continued. "Your grandmother is very religious, as you know. I am quite the opposite. There were... stories growing up. About Louise..."

  From around the corner, she could hear Andrew talking in the hall. She had to wrap this up. "And if I have seen things?"

  Her mother's voice lowered. "I may have... I don't believe in t
hose things, necessarily. But there was a time or two where I wonder... Things my mother said about not talking to demons when I got older. Does any of this make sense, sweetie?"

  "Yeah. It does." A soft beep and a click as a maglock released signaled Andrew's return. "Mom, I'm really tired and want to get some sleep. I love you."

  "I love you too. Please be careful. I know you're technically an adult, but you're my only child. I worry."

  "I know you do."

  "If you need me, any time of the day or night, you call and we will be there."

  Her mother was clearly pained, torn between her nurturing side and Autumn's wishes. With a few final platitudes and her best impression of a normal teenager, she hung up the phone. Andrew hovered in the doorway, a can of Sprite in hand.

  "Sarah's freaking out, isn't she?"

  "She threatened to fly out here and drag me home."

  "Not surprised. She loves you." Settling on the bed beside her, he offered his drink. "I have half a mind to do the same. I've just learned to resist it."

  Sipping his soda, Autumn beckoned him closer. "I know it can't be easy for you. You've been looking out for me since the beginning."

  "Nothing worth having is easy."

  For all of the truth she sought, for all of the answers she needed, their bond was the one fact she held onto above all else. A glance in his direction told her that it was a mutual faith, palpable in the way he carefully curled around her frame. Secure in the arms of the man who loved her without reservation, Autumn pushed aside the weariness of endlessly pursuing a faceless man and surrendered to slumber.

  * * *

  1:37 in the morning. Autumn rolled her eyes as she glanced at the bedside clock. Stupid bladder. Stupid body. Painkillers had always had the odd effect of making her wake up in the middle of the night to pee.

  Gently lifting the covers off her body so as not to disturb Andrew, she rose gingerly from the bed. Her bare feet padded softly against the cool tiles as she entered the bathroom. Relieving herself was an awkward dance of dozing off and leaning forward, only to snap awake as her ribs contorted. Biting her lip to stifle a groan, she stood slowly and made her way to the sink.