Well, so much for ironic coincidence. She already could see her logical explanation flying out the window at the speed of light. Rayne sighed and nodded, glancing at Karla, who returned a weak smile. She resumed her position on the stool and sipped her coffee. "How can I help you?"
Chapter 2
"You're joking right?" Layla asked, her eyes wide in astonishment as they traipsed toward their favorite seats outside of Spresso's Coffee Shop. "The cops really came to your apartment?"
Rayne nodded.
They barely had managed to make it from the parking lot to the front door of the cafe before Layla began hounding her about the morning's events. She knew her friend only could take being left in the dark for a short period of time before having a meltdown, and was surprised that she had held out this long.
"I'll allow that as an acceptable excuse for hanging up on me this morning," she said with a stern glare. "But that's your only freebie!"
Rayne shook her head and took a seat at the table nearest the fence. It had become the preferred location for their favorite game of people watching, with the best vantage point from which to see the locals meandering up and down the main street of Ridgeton. The wide variety of shops and businesses gave them quite the mixture of characters for the object of their sport, and today was no different. The steadily warming weather and pleasant midmorning sun had coaxed more people from their homes than usual. It was busy with people walking and talking, cars passing, and even the occasional cyclist whizzing by, but there were more important matters to tend to.
Rayne crossed her legs and sipped her coffee, attempting to tame a stray curl caught between her lips. "I didn't hang up on you," she stated, rolling her eyes and setting the paper cup down on the wobbly table. "I said I'd call you back."
Layla's dark brown eyes widened. "And that was it!" She flung her arms about wildly as she spoke, causing her short black ringlets to bounce sporadically around her full face. "You can't just tell someone, namely me, your best friend, that you'll call back, and hang up! That's bad friend etiquette!"
"Really? Friend etiquette? You just made that up," Rayne replied as she reached into her purse, pulling out a pair of shades and slipping them on. The sun felt great on her skin in the still slightly chilly air, but her bright green eyes were not as appreciative.
She was, however, glad that she decided to go back for her brown leather jacket before leaving her apartment. It would have bordered on being too cold otherwise, not to mention it looked great with her cream-colored peasant top, jeans, and nearly knee-high leather boots.
Layla nearly slammed her coffee onto the table. "You're damn right I just made that up!" she said angrily. "But that's not the point!"
Rayne smiled in amusement at her friend’s antics and leaned back in her chair to wait patiently for the tantrum to end. Layla had been known to be overly dramatic, even about the smallest things. Luckily, Rayne had mastered the art of dealing with her friend a long time ago, and knew that it was usually best to wait it out. It was more entertaining that way.
"Finished?" she asked. The strain of producing a calm composure was evident on Layla's face. Rayne stared at her through the dark lenses of her glasses, wondering just how long her friend could keep it together. For the fifteen years they had known each other, Layla had been among the worst of the gossips and stuck her nose into everything she could. The fact that something big enough to make the local news involved someone she knew personally had to be driving her crazy.
Her foot began to tap anxiously.
"It's killing you isn't it?" Rayne asked, smiling.
Layla threw her hands into the air. "Yes! It is!" she nearly yelled.
Rayne laughed. Even with all the stress, spending some quality time with her best friend really helped to ease her mind and let her relax a little. She needed it, especially with the developments the police had brought her this morning. The outside may have seemed in order, tranquil even, but that was nothing like the storm of emotions that raged within her just beneath the surface.
It was an impeccable mask that she had learned to produce at an early age while suffering from leukemia. Seeing the horrible parts of the sickness she endured nearly had killed her mother. Eventually, she stopped letting them show and tucked away the pain.
"Just tell me!" Layla finally blurted, her ebony curls dancing violently as she shook her head. "What do they know?"
Rayne sipped her coffee and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as if she were about to disclose a deep, dark secret. In reality, it was a lot of nothing. "Well, I already told you that Karla and two police officers came knocking on my front door this morning and wanted to ask me some questions. Stuff like where I was last night, who was I with. The usual cop stuff."
Layla sat forward in her chair, her dark brown eyes as wide as saucers while she listened. One would think her best friend was about to divulge the highly sought after meaning of life.
"After they asked their few little questions, I asked them what all of it had to do with me," she continued, receiving a nod of understanding in response.
"And?" Layla asked, with a calmness that came at great difficulty.
Rayne bit her lip and fumbled with the sleeve of her jacket. This was the part that embarrassed her. She'd never considered herself anything more than average, so the fact that someone was after her specifically was a little unnerving. "They think I have a stalker."
Layla nearly dropped her cup. "A stalker?" she asked in disbelief. "What makes them think that?"
Rayne shrugged. "My apartment was broken into and nothing was stolen. Karla's was broken into, and again, nothing was stolen." She paused for a moment. "But, they said that out of all the employee's lockers in the breakroom, mine was the only one open, and all my stuff was on the floor. They think whoever it is, is looking for a way to get to me."
Her mouth hung open and her eyes grew even larger, as if that was at all possible. "What do they suggest you do?" Her expression was no longer curious, but had transformed into genuine concern for her friend.
"Go about my life like nothing has changed," she stated. From the corner of her eye, Rayne thought she saw an odd movement, one that didn't fit with the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind, or the steady pace of the cars passing by. No, it was a quick, jerky movement that caught her attention and made her turn her head to suspiciously eye the corner of the building.
Convincing herself that she actually hadn't seen anything was fairly easy. Layla hadn't reacted to it, so there probably was nothing. The lack of sleep must really be getting to me. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and returned her attention to her friend.
"Like nothing has changed? Your life could be in danger, and they want you to act like nothing is going on?" she spat.
Rayne threw her hands up in the air in an effort to quiet her friend. "Would you shut up?" It came out as an angry whisper, and she couldn't keep herself from scanning the area. "Whoever this guy is, we can't let him know that we are on to him. When stalkers think they're going to be caught, they act drastically."
Layla sat back in her chair, staring at her in disbelief. "I can't believe this. So you're literally supposed to sit around and wait for this sick bastard to make a move?" She shook her head. "What if he escalates on his own?"
Rayne shrugged. "All I know is that they told me to act normally, just be a little extra cautious. Check my surroundings, don't go out after dark, stay in well-populated areas." She reached down and grabbed her purse, swinging the strap over her shoulder as she stood. The sudden outburst had made her a little uneasy, and she just wanted to leave. "Once he gets comfortable and complacent, he'll slip up, and they'll catch him."
Mimicking her movements, Layla grabbed her own bag. "Well, I don't like it. You should get out of town or stay with someone."
Rayne narrowed her eyes. She knew the situation had gotten her friend a little riled up, so she was willing to let her comment go. Layla was fully aware that she knew very
few people, and none of them well enough to stay with. As for family, well, the only family she ever had was a mother and grandfather, and both of them were gone from this life. So, her options were limited. More like nonexistent.
Layla's expression brightened as if she had an epiphany. "You can come stay with me!"
She shook her head and rolled her eyes as they turned and headed for the gate that connected the patio area to the parking lot. "Were you even listening to me at all?"
She gave a confused look.
"We can't do anything to make him suspicious."
A frown creased her plump face. "Are you kidding me?" She looked at her friend with wide eyes. "You're actually going along with this?"
Rayne shrugged. What choice did she have? She wasn't going to walk outside, alone, in the middle of the night and hope he came to get her. All she could do was listen to the police and hope that they were right. She'd never been the kind to sit back and take things lightly, but this time she had to.
Layla's shoulders drooped in defeat. "Ok. But I still don't like it."
The two girls reached their cars, Rayne's an older-model Honda Civic that definitely had seen its better days, and Layla's newer Chevy Impala. For one reason or another, Layla turned and hugged her friend, which was slightly unusual.
Sympathy, maybe?
Caught off-guard, Rayne hesitated before returning the gesture, car keys still in hand.
"Just be careful, please," she said quietly as she pulled away. Her dark brown eyes stared into the intense green hue of her companion's. "I mean it. You've been my best friend for fifteen years." She opened her door, but paused before getting in. "I don't want that cut short because of some creep."
Rayne smiled. She had her moments, but Layla really was her best friend. From day one when she transferred from out of state to Ridgeton, Washington, Layla had been the one to step up and offer her friendship. Her smile widened as she watched her pull out of the parking lot, and remembered the nice girl with braces who sat next to her at lunch. It was a little awkward at first, but soon it was apparent they would be inseparable, and they were. Fifteen years later, and still joined at the hip.
She got into her own car. Why did life have to be so complicated? Just once, she would like for things to somewhat go her way. Of course, she didn’t expect or even want things to be easy. Life wasn’t simple. But it would be nice to not have to struggle and fight so hard just to exist.
She took a deep breath, exhaled forcefully, and wished that all her worries would leave just as the air was expelled from her lungs. It was so difficult to believe that any of it actually was real or really had happened. These types of things only happened to people in movies or in crime novels in which it started out with the detective staring at the dead body and working backwards to figure out how it all had transpired. She didn’t want to be the starring role in that storyline. That’s not what she wanted her life to become.
Thankfully, it didn’t happen to people like her from small-town Ridgeton, Washington. She was the one who enjoyed the show from her couch with a bowl of popcorn every Wednesday night. It had to be a nightmare or someone’s sick joke. Right?
Laughing to herself, she reached to put the keys in the ignition. Rayne hadn’t even made it as far as to close the door, when another something caught her eye. This time, there was no second guessing her sanity on this one. She was certain she had seen it.
She was well aware that paranoia could play tricks on the mind, make a person see things that allowed the imagination to run rampant, and create anxiety, distress, and misery where none was needed. Even with that knowledge, she was certain that it was real. She’d seen the dark shadow disappear around the corner.
Rayne moved around the vehicle and squinted against the bright sunlight. One step at a time, she inched closer, her feet moving of their own accord. Before she realized what was happening, she had crossed the parking lot and was on her way toward the back of the building.
Flattening herself against the brick of the coffee shop, the crunch of her boots on the thin strip of gravel near the wall made her pause as she came to her senses. What am I doing?
It was too late. She was too far gone at that point. Her curiosity and stubbornness wouldn’t let her just get back into her and drive away from this one. She had to know what was going on.
So much for doing as I was told.
She slowed when she neared the back of the establishment and continued to creep toward the corner. Her heart beating faster and faster, she tried to ignore the steady thumping in her chest and ears.
Her footsteps crunched loudly, making her pause with caution, hoping that she hadn't been heard. Silent and listening, she took a few deep breaths and was able to hear nothing other than the blood rushing in her ears.
You can do this.
She jumped around the corner, landing knees bent and hands up, prepared to defend herself. She held her breath, ready for anything...
Only to stare into the faces of four shocked teenagers.
They stood in a circle, each one puffing on a cigarette, and neither could be older than sixteen. It was obvious she'd caught them. They tried to hide the smoking sticks behind their backs and failed miserably. Little puffs of smoke billowed up above them.
"Uh...I, are you kids old enough to be smoking?" she asked, thinking quickly. Her face flushed red in embarrassment.
They looked at each other, their faces full of fear. Without a word, they all turned and took off running around the opposite side of the building.
Rayne exhaled forcefully and tried to catch her breath. She fell backwards, her back hitting the brick wall harder than she intended, and she winced. It took a moment to slow the adrenaline pumping through her veins. "Get a grip, Rayne," she told herself. “You just crossed the line into paranoid.”
Her head spun as she tried to organize her thoughts into some recognizable order, and decided that it was a good thing it only had been some stupid kids. What would she have done if it had been her stalker? Yelled at him until he agreed to leave her alone? "Genius. Real Genius."
She pounded her fist against the wall before pushing away and making her way back to the vehicle. How was she going to pull this off? They wanted her to act normal, but it hadn't even been a day yet and already she was chasing shadows and frightening children. She reached her car and crawled into the driver seat, heart still pounding away erratically. At this rate, she would have a heart attack before her next birthday.
It wasn't until after she started the engine that she saw the piece of paper flapping in the wind under her windshield wiper blade. "What the...?" she asked, as she reached out the window and grabbed it. It was folded in half, and her name was scribbled on the back in an unfamiliar handwriting.
She was confused. It hadn't been there earlier, had it? She tried to remember. She definitely would have noticed if it had been, wouldn't she? Unfolding the paper, her breath hitched in her throat and her heart stopped. Fear grabbed her in a vice-like grip, and she was afraid to even breathe.
Dearest Rayne,
Please don’t be alarmed. I can only imagine what you are thinking after the most recent turn of events. I want you to know, first, that I’m not here to hurt or frighten you. If all of this has, then I sincerely apologize. I’m here to help you.
There is a certain group of individuals after you. I don’t know who exactly, but I know what they want, and you are in very real danger. I can help stop it if you allow me.
I know you’re wondering who I am and how I know these things. I can’t tell you here, but all will be revealed soon enough. I am sending someone to get you. Please watch for him soon. You have to trust him and do as he says, no matter what. It’s the only way he can protect you.
This is not a case of the Trojan horse. I will do everything I can to keep you safe, Rayne. After all, we are the only family each other has left.
Best Wishes
Rayne stared at the paper in silent shock. Her mind was running a t
housand miles a minute. Everything was trying to process all at once and couldn’t decide on which way to turn first.
OK. First, an unknown someone thinks I’m in danger, which I can agree with. This mess is ridiculous. Second, this person wants to help me and probably even knows that the hell is going on. Third, family? Well, that can’t be true. Does that mean the rest is a lie, too? Am I really in danger, and from what?
She plopped down into the driver’s seat, letting herself fall forward onto the steering wheel. Her entire body was in a state of hysteria over the complete absurdness her life had become. Her heart rate was volatile, her muscles tensed and shaking, and her brain was on overload and on the verge of a meltdown.
This can’t be real.
How could it be? Everything had been boring and normal just two weeks ago. Even the break-in hadn’t been too terribly incredible.
But now, all of this?
Rayne wanted to disappear. She wanted to crawl under a rock or melt into the pavement to hide from the rest of the world where she could never be found.
Why me?
Sitting motionless for what seemed like forever, she willed the shock to fade away just enough so she could function properly again. She took a deep breath and straightened in her seat, holding the note in her hands to read it again. One phrase continued to stand out above the rest. “This not a case of the Trojan horse.” As much as she loved the story, it felt oddly out of place.
Who could have known it was my favorite tale? I only read and shared it with Grandpa.
Her stomach churned and she thought she might actually vomit. Letting her head fall back against the seat, she looked up at the roof of her car. Where did she go from here? Should she call the police? What about telling Layla?
Staring at the sagging cloth above, she sifted through her options. If there was even the slightest chance that she could have family somewhere, she wanted to know who and how. Telling the law enforcement wouldn't help that happen, and if she told Layla, well, she couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't go to them herself. She hadn't seemed too happy about the whole situation earlier.
Dying To Be Heard (Book 1): Outcry Page 2