Deceived (12 page)

“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 direction.

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.

That did it. His eyebrows hit his hairline. “What?”

“What?” Kate guffawed in my direction like I was an idiot. “His name is Bri-an, honey. Not Nicholas.”

His
name? Was it possible that Brian wasn’t his real name? Gah! I wanted to slap the table. I was just in the office with the files. I needed to visit Darcy again. Was Brian here under a fake name for some reason? Hiding from someone? Hiding a dangerous past?

“You going out for lacrosse? There’s still time before the first game. I can talk to Coach,” Davis challenged.

Tension brewed at my side and I excused myself. As much as I wanted to talk with Brian, Nicholas, whoever he was, lunch wasn’t working.

“Hey, Elle,” Davis called as I stood. “Lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure.” If you can find where I’m hiding.

For once, Pixie didn’t head out alone from the apartment. Being the only one in her circle with a car, she came and went alone too often, especially late at night. Everyone else got curbside service. Tonight her boyfriend picked her up for dinner at his parents’ house. I breathed easier seeing her go with him for a change. Jealousy pinked my cheeks when I thought of him having a home with two parents and of her being a part of his normal family life.

I missed my dad so much that I almost called him. Sleeping proved impossible. My mind whirled with ideas of what lurked on campus, but homesickness got complicated, considering I didn’t really have a home. Dad was my home, and he wasn’t around.

I dug into my drawer and pulled out a box of my mom’s things and lingered over a family photo from a time long gone. Any time I felt this odd-shaped hole in my chest, it helped to remember her. Things hadn’t always been so complicated. My mom had kept every kind of memorabilia from her marriage and from my life, too. The first six years of it anyway. She threw crazy birthday parties with ponies and magicians. She scrapbooked, journaled, and recorded everything. She loved her life and us a lot. My fingers lingered over pressed flowers and scraps of fabric from dresses she had made me. A tear formed immediately. All the “whys” in the Universe poured over me every time I opened the box. Her life’s remnants fit inside a box. My heart squeezed tight with pain. Guilt and grief never got easier. I kept her things close because they were my only proof that she had ever existed.

My actual memories of her had faded long ago, and I hated myself every day for being so weak as to lose something so precious. When all I had were memories, how could I ever let them fade? I was an awful excuse for a daughter. No wonder Dad chose to travel. It was a choice, after all. I didn’t know of any other father who was gone more than he was home. He was obviously running from something. Me.

“Elle!” Pixie’s voice called from the front room almost at the same moment her keys clanged onto the table.

I wiped my tears frantically and ran for the bathroom. The minute I shut the door, I cranked on the water. Hopefully, she’d assume I hadn’t heard her come in. I hadn’t really planned on a shower, but the water seemed like exactly what I needed, so I got in.

When I pulled the shower door open afterward to go get dressed, Pixie was standing there.

“Good grief!” I shouted. “What the heck are you doing?”

“What? I have to pee.” She slouched against the wall, rolling a sucker between her lips.

“Oh.” I had nothing to say. Yes, I had good reason to be paranoid, but I couldn’t tell her about it, so I went to my room.

I pulled on some clean clothes and opened the door of my room. The sudden sight of Pixie on the other side scared me. “Come on!” I screamed and grabbed my chest.

Pixie bent over and grabbed her knees. She apparently enjoyed scaring the crap out of me.

“I. Am. So. Sorry. But that’s hysterical. It’s really, really funny, because I’m only standing here.”

I squeezed past her and walked to the kitchen. She threw my purse on the counter in front of me.

“What?”

“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

All I’d thought about while she was at dinner was the stalker and Brian and what the name Nicholas might mean. I’d had enough. My brain hurt. No way I wanted to stay home alone twice in one night. There wasn’t much of a choice.

“Let’s go.” I waved an underhanded “after you” gesture toward the door.

“Squee!” Pixie grabbed my shoulders and bounced.

I frowned at her for as long as I could, but she kept going until I smiled.
What a nut
. “Come on, before I change my mind.”

She rolled down the windows in her car and cranked up the music. Her head bobbed to the bass and she beat imaginary sticks against the dash at a red light.

“Where’re we going?” I yelled over the music as she turned it down—which she never did. Then she roared with laughter once again. A few families out walking stared at me through the window.

“Stop!” I slapped her thigh.

She laughed harder. “The Pier, of course.” She pumped her neck with the music.

“Of course.”

Every kid in town must’ve had the same plan because not much had changed since the summer. I had assumed that with school back in session it’d be a smaller crowd, but the place pulsed with music and laughter. Fall hadn’t stopped the local kids from congregating at the river.