“Honey, anything at all that wasn’t quite right. It might’ve been someone you encountered or a situation you found yourself in?” He searched my face.
I tried to seem surprised at the questions. “No.” Liar. “Nothing I can think of.”
“How about your dream?” Dad worried about my dream as much as I did.
I could think of no sane way to tell him that the dream had become an entity. I couldn’t explain the power my dream had over me, or how desperate I was to overcome it.
In my dream it was always dark. I was on a street I didn’t know, and I wasn’t alone. Though I had relived the moment a thousand times, I never saw who was with me. I only knew I loved them, and we were in danger. A third person, whom I couldn’t see clearly, lurked nearby and I knew he wanted to hurt us. I also knew it’d be the lethal kind of pain. From there, things happened faster than I could process, but the night felt as real as a memory or premonition.
The hardest part was trying to separate the dream from reality. Like with the invisible smoking man, the dream crept into my waking hours and messed with me long after I woke up. I barely stayed focused long enough to live in the present. Until I moved to Francine Frances, the dream had only kept me tired and preoccupied.
I’d never tell my dad any of it. Losing Mom hadn’t been easy for either of us. I wouldn’t add to his pain by pointing out that the loss was literally driving me crazy.
“The dream is okay. It’s just a dream.” I feigned a smile.
Dad shoved some bangs off my face. “Elle.” He faked a smile right back at me. “We need to talk about the security here.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you been watching the news?”
“No.” Honestly, I hadn’t even turned on the television.
“You should be keeping up with local news.”
“So, campus security has something to do with local news?” He wanted to talk about it, but then I had to pull it out of him. Frustrating. Please don’t tell me the serial killer is for real. It’s a misunderstanding. Kids trying to scare the freshmen. Nothing more.
“No. I have a friend at an office in Columbus and his brother’s in law enforcement. When he heard you moved here, he said there are rumors of a man stalking young women in this part of the state. You want to be sure you’re vigilant. Keep an eye on the news.”
Vigilant?
“You think he’s right? Some guy might be stalking near campus?” I wasn’t sure whether this made me feel better because I wasn’t crazy or worse because he might be following me.
“I’m not sure, but I do know, with all things considered, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ve let the school know what I heard and also about the issue with your locker.”
Whoa. I sucked in air. Maybe Dad had taken a dip into my crazy pool. Lots of girls wore black ribbons. I mean, it was a ribbon, not a threatening letter.
Best to focus on the facts. “Do you think I’m in some kind of danger? Or Pixie?” Pixie ran around all the time. What if someone hurt her? I had to nix the cat-and-mouse with Brian. I needed straight answers. Pixie needed to know what Dad had just told me. “How reliable is your friend’s brother? How do you know him?”
“He’s not the sort to tell tales.”
I hoped Dad’s report had made its way from the school staff to the security detail. We were all being followed. How many other girls thought they were in danger and didn’t know how true that was? It occurred to me I should be miffed that school administration had failed to mention we were being stalked. Seemed like an important little nugget of information.
“Shouldn’t the school tell the students? The dean must know.” How could we stay safe if we didn’t know we were in danger? I doubted my classmates watched the news any more than I did, which was never. My heart pitched into double time.
“Not yet. The school says they have things under control. They don’t want to cause a panic.” He huffed. “They’ve beefed up security.”
I chewed hard on my bottom lip. So, campus security had bigger issues than my dirty welcome mat. I was afraid, but I didn’t want to leave. What was right and what my gut would allow were forces on opposite ends of the spectrum at the moment.
“Security?” I hoped to press him for more information and wondered how much the school divulged to parents.
“Yes, they’ve doubled the number of watchmen on campus and added additional shifts to patrols on the streets. You should notice a security car come by here hourly, if not more often. If you don’t, let me know.”
“Wow. Watchmen. It’s like martial law,” I whispered. “Will there be a curfew for everyone or something?”
“I’d like that, but there are laws. Can I see the ribbon?”
“Sure.” I dug through my backpack and pulled it out. He took it with unexpected care and I wondered if he thought of Mom, too. He turned it over in his fingers and examined the frayed edge.
“It got stuck in the zipper on my backpack.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “There’s no reason to worry until there’s a reason to worry, right?” He kissed my head.
Balling the ribbon in his fist, I thought I heard him mutter something about security doing their jobs. He looked my way. His face stayed red for a long while.
“So, you like it here?” He sighed. “Tell me everything.”
He got comfortable, and I settled in beside him.
Dad and I sat and talked until he crashed on the couch. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if what he really meant by stalker was serial killer. Voicing the words might make them true. I didn’t want to be responsible for that. Years of worry, airline food, and jet lag looked like they had taken their toll. I pulled a quilt over him and waited for Pixie to get in. I chuckled at the thought of simply going to bed and letting her walk in to find a grown man asleep on her couch. Chances were she would’ve gone with it. No questions.
While I waited, I wondered about his strange arrival. When he knocked, he had seemed pretty upset. He had gotten the photo of the ribbon I sent him and gone right back to his work. I’d heard him typing. Maybe there was something else to be worried about. Of course there was. Didn’t he just say there was a stalker in town? Not to mention I was followed twice in two nights. He snored softly beneath the blanket. I needed to ask him to tell me the truth about what he had heard.
I rubbed my forehead. Get a grip, Gabriella. Stalked by people who smoke? Don’t be silly. What would a serial killer want with me in a school filled with beauty queens? Maybe someone wanted to kill me via secondhand smoke? Out of all the interesting, outgoing girls on campus, I caught the creeper’s interest? No one else had seen him. I hadn’t really seen anyone either. Not a face anyway. Someone had tried to get into Pixie’s car, but it was a long shot to try to connect the two nights. Still, the orange glow worried me. What if it had been the same man and no coincidence? I felt it instinctually. I should be afraid.
That train of thought brought me back to Brian. Dad didn’t ask me about boys. He didn’t press me about the girls at school either. Though he did seem to know everything about Pixie. He told me most of what I knew about her, her family, her friends, before we met.
Pixie came in a few minutes later, complaining about the cancer agents on the mat, and my heart seized. I planned to worry about her next. Knowing our campus needed added security, it made sense to worry. Thank goodness she had come home. What if the person smoking outside our door wasn’t a girl hiding a nicotine habit? Ice clogged my throat. Had he been right outside my door? Over and over.
“There’s a man on our couch.” Pixie pointed as she walked past.
I frowned at the lack of concern in her voice. A simple statement of fact. Oh, by the way, there’s a man on our couch. “Dad stopped by to visit.”
She craned her neck. They’d only met once. I wondered if she truly recognized him or if it would matter. Emotion passed over her eyes. Regret? Maybe loss. I wished desperately that her parents
would call. Or just one of them. I didn’t care which one. Someone should want to know she was happy.
“You missed a massive bonfire. Ah-mazing.”
“What about movie night?” My voice broke and snapped on every word.
“We ran into Davis on campus, and Darcy snuck out with us. If she didn’t get caught sneaking back in, we’re going over for movie night Thursday.”
“Oh.” My mind raced to put the pieces together. I clamped my lips shut to keep from spilling all my suspicions to Pixie. I felt manic.
“First bonfire of the year. I hope you feel better ’cause you missed it.”
There’d be a dozen more before the snow came. “I promise to catch the next one with you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Hey, if I’d been gone tonight, I would’ve missed my dad.”
Her eyes roamed back over the figure on our couch. “Fine.” She pointed a gas-blue fingernail in my direction. “I’m going to hold you to that. You can’t hide in here forever.”
“Pretty nails.”
“I know, right? I’m going to do polka dots over them I think … in the morning.”
“Do you think the girl was right the other day, about a serial killer in town?”
She raised a perfect, black-penciled eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. I’d never had a real girlfriend before. What if I was wrong? What if she thought I was crazy? What if I was?
I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. If she pressed the issue, I’d take her to my room and tell her everything.
Pixie gave me a long look and glanced at my dad. “I hope not.” She moved toward her room with no fewer than two backward glances in my direction.
I pulled the scrap of paper with what I presumed to be Brian’s number from my backpack and traced each digit with my fingertip. Then, despite news of a local stalker/possible serial killer, I slept much better that night having Dad nearby.
Chapter Nine
Dad was up at a quarter till five when I headed for the treadmill.
“How’d you sleep, sweetie?” His smile warmed me.
I loved him extra for the fact that he’d made a full pot of coffee. I poured a cup and leaned against the counter. “The usual. How about you? A six-foot man on a four-foot love seat seems cozy.”
“It was pure luxury after the places I’ve slept lately, trust me.”
“Flying coach again?” I slid into a chair next to him.
“I take what’s available. I can’t afford to be picky.” He gave me a very protective look, and I softened.
“How long can you stay?” I had to clear my throat to get the words out.
His face fell a tiny bit, and he pursed his lips. “I have to get going today. This will be the first move in some time that I have to do by myself.”
“Do you have to move so far away? Texas, really?”
He shrugged and watched me. He was probably waiting for a moment of weakness to persuade me to go. “Like you said, my things will be in Texas, but I’ll be on the road. My address doesn’t mean much these days. Good news is, I’ll be working in your area in case you need me.”
Meanwhile, I wondered why I hadn’t packed my bags. Someone had followed me. Possibly a serial killer, who was possibly the man I might be in love with. Denying it was futile. Whatever happened to my heart and soul and brain when Brian was near had never happened before, and every time he left, he took the air with him. I’d never been in love before, but when I dared to think of the word, my heart ached. If he was dangerous, I was in more trouble than Dad could imagine. Brian had personally warned me about my safety. A dangerous person wouldn’t warn his prey. I hoped. The more I considered my choices, I should’ve been knocking people down to get away from Ohio, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t.
I was lost in my dream of espionage. I wanted to know who had followed me and why. I wanted to know everything I could about Brian. I wanted to defeat the nightmare that threatened to ruin my days, too. I wanted victory over something, and I wanted it bad. I wasn’t ready to go.
Dad dropped me off at school, and I hated saying goodbye. I wanted to be strong, but I also wanted to climb into his shirt pocket and be with him, safe, wherever he went. Shutting the car door, I turned back for one last “I love you” and caught the tail end of a stiff nod and brutal scowl. I’d never figured my dad for senility, so I looked around to see who he’d threatened. I didn’t see anyone.
I leaned in through the open window and gave him one more look before he drove away. Since childhood, I had always worried that every goodbye would be our last.
Dad pulled the car into the road. His taillights disappeared through the gate.
In the distance, Brian rounded a corner, moving away from me at a clip.
The classes before lunch dragged on. The moment I knew Darcy was at her new position of office aide, I made a trip to update my file.
“You came!” She beamed.
“Yeah. Sorry I bailed last night.”
“You didn’t miss anything. We’ll do it again. So, what’s up?” She leaned on her elbows on the desk, smiling.
“I wanted to add an emergency contact to my file.”
“Sure.” She looked excited to help me. When she turned for the filing cabinets, I followed her around the desk. Another aide watched us curiously until the phone rang. “Here you are.” She plucked a slim file from the drawer marked R–Z. “What’s the number?”
“Darcy?” The second aide stood at her desk. “Did anyone show you where the brochures for interested families are kept?” She put the receiver on the desk and approached us.
My eyes lifted to the drawer above mine. A–B. Brian’s folder was inches away.
“I’ll write the number in and leave the file on your desk. I need to get to lunch.”
Darcy shrugged. She followed the other aide to search for the brochures. I began a search of my own, sliding the top drawer to the filing cabinet open with a soft click. The folders shifted easily as I thumbed through dozens of files for students whose last names began with A. Acer. Adams. Adamson. Ashton. Ayers.
No Austin. Not even an almost-empty file like mine. I checked once more. Definitely no Austin. “Thanks, Darcy!” I tossed my file on her desk and headed for lunch.
Inside the cafeteria, I bit my lip and walked over to sit with Davis. Pixie never ate, and I had too much on my mind to spend another lunch period inside the art building watching her paint. She asked a lot of really intuitive questions that I didn’t want to answer.
The cafeteria bustled with activity. Laughter punctuated the chatter of a hundred voices and the clatter of plastic trays onto tabletops. The warm, buttery scents of comfort food wafted overhead. Tangy Italian sauces and salty soups thickened the air. Chicken noodle soup made me think of Grandma. I had a handful of great memories with her. Lost in my investigation, I grabbed a ready-made plate from the line and carried it toward a table.
“There you are. I thought you didn’t eat.” Davis moved his tray aside to make more room for my caffeinated water, soggy orange fries, and chicken nuggets. My eyes darted wistfully at the other, better-looking meals I had missed. Mental note: not everything homemade is delicious looking.
“Oh, I eat.” I shoved a limp french fry into my mouth. My grimace nearly caused the mush to spill back out. I regretted skipping the soup.
Davis laughed hard like a donkey, one arm across his ribs. “Sweet-potato fries.” His feet pounded the floor beneath us.
“Yuck.” I gulped down my water and smiled at his apparent joy. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Sorry. I thought you knew until you shook that salt on them. Then I had to watch. Oh. Classic.”
“What’d I miss?” Kate bumped her elbow gently against mine and moved up against my side. I was sandwiched between Davis and Kate, who lowered herself daintily next to me and folded her hands in her lap.
“Davis let me eat sweet-potato fries.” I tossed a thumb in his direct
ion.
Davis’s eyes ran over my face. “Nice to see you eating. Girls at this school seem to think anorexia is the new healthy.”
I turned to Davis so as not to make eye contact with Kate, the only one at the table without a lunch.
“Thin is in.” He spoke around a mouthful of meatballs.
“Where’s Pixie?” Kate leaned onto the empty table before her, peering around me.
“Painting.”
“Why aren’t you with her?”
“I thought I’d see if the meals here were all that the brochure said they’d be.”
“Plus, she wanted to check on me.” It seemed unlike Davis to say that.
I peeled my eyes from Kate’s.
Brian, if that was his real name, appeared across the table from us and shouldered his way in between a set of boys I hadn’t been introduced to. “This seat taken?”
His green eyes smoldered and I couldn’t speak. He lowered himself in front of me and I was vaguely aware of a strange triangle that had formed with me at its center.
“What’s up, Austin?” The protective coating of Davis’s words bothered me.
Brian narrowed his eyes. “Not much.”
“What brings you to lunch today? I haven’t seen you here before.” Davis leaned forward.
The rest of the table had grown quiet. Their collective gaze turned to me.
Brian’s eyes hadn’t left mine. “Just taking care of things. Caught a break. Thought I’d grab lunch, too.”
“What things?” Kate leaned farther over the table, no doubt providing a full display of her cleavage.
He didn’t seem to notice. His concentrated expression started to feel like some unspoken challenge.
Tension mounted inside. “Nicholas?” I blurted. What did it mean? I sent telepathic daggers at him. Who is Nicholas? The one word I overheard during his private call in the library had kept me up at night wondering.
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