21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (14 page)

“That’s
the guy,” she said. She enlarged a section of the screen, zooming in on the
upper right hand corne. There was the man. Tan trench coat.
Brown
hat.
“That’s the guy I keep seeing.”

McKenzie
took the phone from her. “What are you talking about?”

Susan
grabbed the phone out of McKenzie’s hands. “You mean he actually exists?”

Lindsey
took the phone from her and shared it with Lindsay. Crowding their heads close
together, they studied the picture.

“He
looks creepy,” Lindsey said.

“Like
right out of a Wes Craven movie,” Lindsay added.

“That’s
the man who’s been following me. He’s in the photo.” Abbie took her phone back
and held it up in front of Susan’s face. “This proves it. You see, I’m not
making it up. This man is following me.”

McKenzie
took the phone from Abbie’s hands and looked down at the screen, clearly
studying the picture. Looking up, she scanned the Pavilion. “Well, I don’t see
him in here. You’re safe now.”

“I
don’t want to be rude,” Susan said. “But you’re a grown-ass woman. Why are you
being so paranoid?”

Abbie
shook her head. “I’ve seen him four times in the last two days. So, no, I don’t
think I’m being paranoid.”

Her
phone chirped and she looked down at the screen. McKenzie’s pink phone, lying
on the table, beeped. Then the
twins
phones went off.
And, finally Rocky’s dinged in his pocket.

Abbie
read the text message out loud.

“I
don’t even know what a Sweaty Mexican is.” Abbie sighed and dropped her phone
into her purse. “I can’t do this anymore. The party’s over.”

She
got up from the table, nearly knocking over her stool, and headed for the exit.

Chapter 17

M
cKenzie held the hem of her red Qipa with one
hand as she ran out the Pavilion, following Abbie onto the crowded Riverwalk.
Rocky came out behind her, then Susan and the twins.

“Bookworm,
wait!” McKenzie caught up to Abbie as the bright lights of a cruise ship passed
in the Bay.
“Where you going?”

“I’m
done.
Just done.”
Abbie walked faster, doing her best
to stay ahead of McKenzie. Moving away from the Riverwalk, she crossed the
street as a man riding a bike zipped past her. With earphones in place, he
sung, loudly, off key, “
Party rock is in
the house tonight.
” An oncoming car dodged his shaky bike. McKenzie,
waiting for them to pass, called out again, but Abbie didn’t stop.

“This
is
creeping
me out,” Abbie yelled from across the
street. She didn’t turn around. "I’m going home.”

Susan,
the twins and Rocky caught up to McKenzie.
Together, they followed Abbie for several blocks, coming to an
intersection. Abbie paused. Susan stepped beside her as they waited for the
crosswalk light.

“You’re
over-reacting,” Susan said. “It’s just a face in the crowd.”

“Why
won’t you listen to me?” Abbie stared at the red light, wishing it would change.
“Don’t you get it? Someone is following me.”

“That’s
absurd.” Susan punched the button on the crosswalk post a couple of times.
“There’s no one here. It’s all in your head.”

Abbie
looked at her, then at McKenzie. “What more can I say? You saw the picture.” The
crosswalk light changed and Abbie pounded across the street. The others
followed, making Abbie run a little faster. “I just want to go home. I’ll call
a cab or something if I have to.”

“You
can’t.” McKenzie ran ahead of Abbie, as best she could in the tight dress. The
wind unraveled the pink ribbon in her hair. Still she managed to stop in front
of Abbie and hold out a hand, palm up, while pulling the ribbon out of her hair
with the other hand. McKenzie’s red hair fell to her shoulders and into her
eyes. Slightly amused by it, Abbie stood at the curb beneath a street lamp and
allowed the others to catch up. McKenzie kept her arm raised, hand out. “We
haven’t finished the dares and you’ve got to get to the surprise waiting for
you at the end.”

“Wait,
Abbie. Please.” Rocky came up beside McKenzie and faced Abbie. Beads of
perspiration dotted his forehead and his glasses slid slightly down his nose. He
pushed them back as he spoke. “It’s not that we don’t believe you, but…”

Abbie
turned away from him. She fiddled with the unicorn pendant. “It’s just what?”

“It’s
just that—” he said. “Let’s say you’re right and someone
is
following you. Well, no one is going to bother you with all of
us together.”

“That’s right,” Susan said as several cars
rushed past. “And beginning tomorrow, I’ll be your chauffeur. I’ll drive you to
class. I’ll pick you up at your therapist. I’ll drop you off a cliff all Thelma
and Louise style.”

 
“What are you doing?” McKenzie finished tying
the ribbon in her hair. “You’re going to tip her off.”

Abbie
threw up her arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t care about it anymore. It was fun, but
the
night’s
over.”

Abbie
moved past her entourage and headed down the sidewalk. She crossed another
intersection. On the next block, Sam’s Pizza signs glowed with neon brilliance.
The night air filled with the aroma of garlic and cheese. The shop looked
crowded inside and several couples sat at tables on the outside patio. People watched
as McKenzie and the group shouted at Abbie. McKenzie grabbed her arm.

“You
can’t bail on us now,” she said. “Your surprise guest has gone to great trouble
to make this a memorable night for you.”

“This
is all just too much.” Abbie waved her away then crossed her arms across her
chest. “I had a good time, but the party’s over.”

“No,
come on, please.” She turned Abbie around and took her hand, tugging
her a
couple of steps up the sidewalk. “You’re going to love
the next destination.”

Abbie
pushed McKenzie’s arms away. “What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you in two
years and, yeah, we spent a few summers together as kids back in Pembroke Pines,
but how does that make me your oldest, dearest friend?”

“You’re
right.” McKenzie stopped, looking almost as if Abbie had just slapped her. She
licked her lips and her gaze dropped to her feet. “We weren’t BFFs and I wasn’t
always nice to you growing up. I didn’t realize it then and I certainly didn’t
mean anything by it. I was just having fun.”

“You
thought calling me The Bookworm was fun?”

“It
wasn’t really
THE
Bookworm. It was
just Bookworm.” McKenzie looked at the others, then back at Abbie. She started
to say more when a couple of out-of-towners interrupted her. They asked for
directions to the Florida Aquarium and McKenzie pointed them in the right
direction. Abbie watched the couple walk away, past a homeless man pushing a
shopping cart full of stuff down the middle of the street.

Together,
the group started down the sidewalk again, walking in the opposite direction as
the out-of-towners. They came to Eighth Avenue where a large
“Welcome to the Historic Ybor District”
sign
arched across the hectic street. Beyond that was a two story shopping center
with a movie theater, comedy club, ice cream shops and hamburger joints.
 

“Let’s
just check out the next destination,” McKenzie said, leading the group past the
shopping center. “If you don’t like it, we’ll leave.”

“Where
is the next destination?” Abbie had never been to the Ybor District and she stared
at the brightly lit shops.

“It’s
not far,” Susan said. “And I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Ahead
of them, paved streets ran between a stretch of historic buildings that used to
be hotels, feed shops and dry-goods stores. Today, they were now restaurants,
night clubs, tattoo parlors, antique shops and vintage clothing stores, all
ending at an old cigar factory. The street was barricaded, preventing cars to
pass through and allowing pedestrians to freely cross from side to side. Behind
white barricades along the curb, the people were ten deep, easily.

“This
whole Twenty One Dares Party was exactly what I wanted for my twenty-first
birthday.” McKenzie seemed unfazed by everything as they passed a display
featuring a mermaid swimming in a fish tank. Abbie couldn’t take her eyes off
it as McKenzie continued. “But all I got was a dinner party at Bern’s Steak
House. And it wasn’t even a surprise.”

Abbie
looked away from the mermaid and stared at McKenzie. “So you’re high-jacking my
birthday?”

McKenzie
didn’t answer. The group strolled down the block, past two-story brick
buildings, and pushed through crowds of party seekers. A doorman stood at the
entrance doors of a club called Wicked T’s and invited them to step inside.
They walked past him and came up alongside a policeman on horseback. Abbie pet
the horse and it whinnied, startling her.

McKenzie
took Abbie’s hand again and they headed toward a bright, noisy corner bar at
the end of the block. A wooden sign with hand carved letters announcing “
Gaspar’s Grotto – Tampa’s notorious pirate
bar
” hung in the arched entry gates.

The
patio outside the Grotto took up an entire vacant lot between the pub and the
next building. Hordes of twenty-somethings, “Millennial Hipsters,” as McKenzie
put it, jammed the place, most standing but others sitting on the short stone
perimeter wall.
 
Almost everyone just
kind of nodded their heads, barely moving their arms up and down. There wasn’t
enough room to dance.

Abbie
stopped, turned and looked McKenzie square in the face. “It’d better be Sarah
Michelle Gellar waiting in there.”

“Okay,
I’ll give you a hint.” McKenzie got out her phone. She typed on it a moment,
moving her thumbs, then looked at Abbie. “Your surprise guest graduated with a
PhD.”

Abbie dropped her purse.
“No
way!”

“Yes.” McKenzie bent her knees to pick-up the
purse. Abbie could hardly contain her excitement. She pushed through the
crowded patio and stopped at the entrance. The interior was equally crowded,
with a large center bar and booths lining the walls. Every inch of wall space
was decorated with swords, treasure maps and other pirate trinkets.
Abbie searched the crowd for her
surprise
guest
.

“You got Joss Whedon to come to my birthday
party?” Abbie’s voice
raised
to a fever pitch as
McKenzie, Susan and the others surrounded her. Abbie stood on her tiptoes for a
better view of the people in the bar. “I can’t believe he’s here. I can’t
believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

McKenzie looked at Susan, then back at Abbie.
“Wait, who? Jess what?”

“Joss Whedon!”
Abbie could barely hear over the karaoke music and she bumped into the
people around her. “I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it.”

Susan moved forward. “Who’s Joss Whedon?”

“Who’s Joss Whedon?” Abbie repeated, thinking
she was obviously joking. “Who’s Joss Whedon? He’s the writer and creator of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
and its
spin-off series,
Angel
.”

“I don’t get it,” Susan said. “How would you
even know what the writer and director looks like.”

Rocky moved closer to her. “He’s a movie
producer and geek overlord. Every nerd on the planet prays at the television
altar of Whedon.”

“I honestly don’t know what that means,”
Susan said.
They
pushed through the crowd to a seat at the bar. The bartender set a pitcher of
beer and four frosted mugs in front of them. Susan grabbed a mug and poured
herself a beer.
“But then I
don’t watch television.
Too many Viagra commercials.
All those women wandering aimlessly through their living rooms waiting for an
erection that doesn’t last for four hours to walk through the door, like they
have nothing better to do. At least bake something.”

Rocky
laughed. “Joss Whedon is the writer and director of
The Avengers
movies too. You know…
Captain
America.
Thor.
The Incredible Hulk.”

Susan
planted her elbows on the bar and rolled her eyes. “You’re not improving your
case.”

“He
graduated with a PhD from Wesleyan University,” he said as Abbie sat down at
the bar between Rocky and McKenzie. Abbie was still giddy.

“I
just can’t believe
that he would
take the time—”

Their cell phones beeped simultaneously as a
new text message came in.

“Shhhh—people,” Susan said. She set her
frosted mug on the bar. “Joss Whedon just sent Abbie a new text message.”

McKenzie sighed, taking a stool beside Susan.
“Stop it. It’s obviously not Joss Whedon waiting for you,” she said. “There are
other people who—”

Abbie interrupted her, reading the new text
message.

“On a girl?”
Abbie asked.

Susan
laughed and set her mug on the counter. “That was my idea. I wanna drag you out
of your comfort zone.”

“Three
word
sentences
and
in that butchered British accent?” Rocky asked. “This is going to be brutal!”

“We’re
not doing the British accent anymore,” McKenzie said. “We’re done with that.”

“Thank
God.” Rocky took a sip of beer then elbowed Abbie in her side. “Well, go on.
What’cha waiting for?”

Abbie
looked around the Grotto. She studied the faces in the crowd, evaluating each
and every one, and noticed a girl sitting alone in a booth at the back of the
bar. There was something familiar about her. Wearing a black Amara lace off-the-shoulder
dress, the girl was a little heavy set. A purple streak ran through her white
blonde hair. Abbie recognized her from Behavioral Science.