233Last one! I've combined a slightly airheaded narrator, a serial killer with her brand of looks on the mind, and a scanty time window. What could possibly go wrong?
*A note: a guest review was kind enough to point out that I'd used a word incorrectly, so I fixed it. Apologies, everyone. I had learned a mistaken definition for it.
It was the lack of birdsong that woke me up. Cracking an eye open to find that it was indeed ungodly bright in the bedroom, I looked at the closed window in mystification for a second, trying to figure out why it wasn't propped open like it had been since the first day we'd moved into our apartment.
"I didn't reopen it after the storm," Shannon enlightened me from above.
Turning, I looked up into her alert eyes and moaned, rubbing my own. "How many times do I have to tell you," I demanded, "that you're not allowed to stay up all night and look better rested than people who actually follow a normal sleeping schedule?"
"If this is what works for me, isn't it my 'normal'?" she quipped, grinning unapologetically.
The smile didn't reach her eyes. Frowning at the tension there, I wriggled up and hugged her waist, muttering into her oversized t-shirt, "You're also not allowed to freak out about me and serial killers, by the way."
Instead of responding, she slid down to lie next to me and placed my head on her shoulder, hugging me much more gently than I was her. I wondered absently if I would ever actually crack one of her ribs like she often predicted. Probably not. Her bones wouldn't dare mess with our system. It was how we got through things, proving to each other that I was stronger than I looked and she was, in fact, unbreakable. Well, that and…
"Chocolate?"
I smiled at our simultaneous question, nodding. Shannon sat up and lifted me with her, swinging me over to her side of the bed and setting me down on my feet as she stood up. A few minutes later, we were dressed and jogging towards the nearest café with decent hot chocolate and muffins. We had the whole city's caffeine network memorized for emergencies. There was a cozy little place on the corner that we loved. We dashed through parked cars like hooligans, and Shannon was still worried enough that she let me win. I glared halfheartedly at her for the lack of effort as I held the door open. She snatched my wallet out of my back pocket in response. I yelped, my glare intensifying.
Somebody had given Shannon and instruction manual on how to push my buttons. Whatever trepidation I was still feeling from the night before ebbed in the face of her mischief. With nervous panic suddenly out of reach, I settled for stepping on her foot instead. She poked me in the ribs, knowing full well that I was extremely ticklish. By the time the barista looked up, I was trying to shove her into the wall while she stood calmly with her arms crossed and didn't move an inch, a hand darting out once and a while to tickle me. I was giggling so hard that I could barely breathe.
"Um…"
I jumped and squeaked, my whole face burning. Being startled was close enough to being scared; both my arms latched around Shannon's middle on instinct. Completely unflustered by my spazzing—she always was—Shannon slung an arm over my shoulders and handed the confused coffeehouse employee a twenty. With a slight edge of imperiousness in her voice, she told the youth, "Chocolate. Whatever you've got, put it in two cups or on a plate and hand it over. …Please."
The gangly teen behind the counter swallowed and fiddled with his green apron, taking the money mechanically. Knowing full well why he was staring at us—or rather, our chests—so fixatedly, I huffed and brushed my hair out of my eyes. My mother was right. Boys are dumb.
Giggle attack firmly squashed, I volunteered, "I'll find us a spot."
A moment later, I was in a booth in the farthest corner of the café from the ogling barista. As opposed as I was to the idea of leaving Shannon alone with him, it was only a temporary situation, and she could snap him in half with a finger. Much better to secure an eating spot far away from him for the rest of the time we'd spend in there.
"—and remember to refresh that third pot."
"I've got it, Leia. I'm the new girl, not a newborn. Just go home already."
Leia? My head snapped up, zeroing in on the back corner of the café. Two girls were standing in the gap that led behind the counter. One, a youngish blonde in the telltale green apron, was waving her finger mockingly at a taller, dark-haired girl who was busy pulling her own apron over her head. She was about my age, beautiful, and even from the distance I was at, I was fairly certain she had dark brown eyes.
I tensed. What if it really was Leia Swanson? Those looks on top of the name seemed to be too much of a coincidence. I had to warn her. Without really thinking about it, I slipped out of my seat and walked out the employee door after her.
We were walking down the back alley of the café. The employee lot was just ahead; I could see a few cars through the alley opening. It was a narrow gap between the buildings, further constricted by garbage bins and other debris. Some of the piles were taller than the average adult male, and all of them were pretty wide. Plenty of places to lurk.
…I was getting a bad feeling about that opening. I picked up my pace. "Wait, Leia!"
Pausing, she turned back to face me. The confusion that started taking shape over her features reminded me that she had no idea who I was. Inwardly, I smacked myself in the head. Holding my real hands up nonthreateningly, I slowed from my jog and approached her.
"Hi. This is probably really awkward, but is your name Leia Swanson?"
She frowned, but nodded slowly. "Yes?"
Well, okay, nice to be right, then. Sorta. I stopped a few feet away so I wouldn't back her out into the open. "Hi Leia. I'm Alicia. Not to freak you out or anything," Do not tell her she's been targeted by a serial killer. "…but the police are looking for you. They'd like to ask you some questions and stuff. I'm a friend, kinda, of one of them, so would you mind coming back inside and calling him, please?"
She took a very obvious step back. "Ah, yeah. I'd mind."
Crap. Fiercely, I longed for my hometown in the Midwest, where people would actually smile at you on the street and exchanging pleasantries with strangers was convention rather than lunacy. Leia had never been to Minnesota or Wisconsin or Iowa. She obviously thought I was a crazy person. Which, in her defense, was more than likely true.
Time for drastic measures, then.
I started edging to the side, like I was trying to circle around her. She automatically stepped in the opposite direction. To keep her distracted from the fact that I was actually switching places with her in the alley, I spoke up, "Did your parents tell you that they got some random flowers in their backyard?"
"What about it?" She was seriously looking ready to bolt. I needed to calm her down. Maybe if I introduced myself a little more thoroughly?
I reached for my ever-present press pass. "Well, I'm a reporter with KHON2, and yesterday I got sent to Kaimuki to look at a whole bunch of backyard flower deliveries. Twelve other couples got flowers, did you know?"
She shook her head. I stopped moving; we were standing opposite each other again, lengthwise down the alley. Happily, she was closer to the employee entrance than I was. She shrugged uncaringly, but at least she wasn't running. "So? What does that have to do with me? And why do the police care?"
And wasn't that a tricky question. If I answered wrongly, she'd probably be sprinting for the hills all over again. With some degree of delicacy, then, I imparted, "Well, see, all of those couples are about your parents' age. And all of them have daughters about your age that look about the same as you do." I swallowed, going for it. "And three of those daughters are dead right now."
Whoops. Too far. Squeaking, she tried to bolt past me to her car instead of dashing for the employee door. Not very bright, I observed, but then, she's terrified.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I exclaimed, stepping in front of her and throwing my arms out. "It's not me! I didn't have anything to do with it!"
"Let me go!" she cried, trying to dart past me. I stepped easily in front of her, thanking whoever was listening for all the times I'd spend corralling Shannon.
"Look, I have an idea," I told her loudly, trying to pierce through her panic. "Why don't you go inside and call the police?"
She froze, blinking. Then she whirled and threw herself towards the door. It slammed shut behind her; I sighed in relief. Shannon was in there. She would know how to talk some sense into the hysterical Leia Swanson. The short-haired security consultant deserved a Nobel Peace Prize for all the times she'd gotten through to me when I was going bonkers. Which was fairly often.
Although, at the moment, I was getting a distinct there's-a-story-out-there-in-the-parking-lot vibe, and I didn't think it was because I'd lost my marbles. I turned and walked slowly towards the alley entrance.
Nothing jumped out at me when I stepped over the curb, which was nice. Releasing a breath that I hadn't known I was holding, I started to wander aimlessly through the stationary vehicles. I wasn't flirting with danger, I protested against a very Shannon-like voice in my head. Something was bothering me; I just wanted to figure out what it was.
As I walked, a bright green slug bug caught my eye. The license plate was LE1A5BUG. The windows were wide open, but the door locks were on. I rolled my eyes, strolling over absently. There was an expensive bag and name brand shoes sitting on the passenger seat, waiting for any passing thief to grab. Obviously Leia's stunning intellect was reflected in her vehicle choice. I was glad I'd gotten her inside. Catching her would have been like shooting fish in a barrel for the serial killer.
Oh. Shit. The serial killer.
Stiffening, I whirled, intending to run back into the café—and turned right into the stun gun descending towards my neck. My hands shot out on instinct, latching around the wrist of my attacker. That didn't stop the metal prongs from touching my skin, though. I felt a hot, crippling bolt of agony lock up my muscles, and then everything lost focus.
Someone gave a gargled cry—or at least, I thought somebody did. Vaguely, I noted that hitting the ground hurt. Everything hurt. Even my ears hurt, and they were busy trying to tell me that something heavy and loud had fallen down with me. Or on top of me, maybe? I couldn't tell. My nervous system seemed to be malfunctioning. I blinked at the too-bright sky and focused on not choking, seizing, or biting my tongue off.
Ow. Owowowowowowow…
"Stupid bitch," someone growled hoarsely.
Ow...'Scuse me?
I blinked, affronted, at the blurry shape that loomed into my vision. After a second, my eyes cleared enough to identify it. There was a man leaning over me. He was breathing hard, and his arms were planted on the ground to hold him up on his knees. His whole body seemed to be quivering. Much like mine.
Gritting my teeth against the tendon-clenching spasms in my limbs, I glared up at whoever the interloper was and tried to remember what the hell was going on. My eyes darted around laboriously. I recognized the parking lot, and there was something important about the obnoxious green car I was lying next to…
"You're not her," he growled, stealing my attention back by grabbing my jaw roughly. I jerked my head free, but he just grabbed it again, covering my mouth with an enormous, bearlike hand. He was glaring back at me, I noticed. My anger lost ground in the face of his fury. Leaning closer, he hissed accusingly, "You aren't supposed to be here. You're all wrong." Then he paused, drawing back and considering me for a moment. Thoughtfully, he allowed, "Well, not all wrong. But I didn't choose you. You're not her."
He went back to glowering after he said that. I swallowed nervously and glanced back at the slug bug. It wasn't my car. It was someone else's…Leia's. Leia Swanson. I'd chased her down and sent her to Shannon, hadn't I? I wanted to protect her.
From what?
The slap caught me off guard. My head rocked, slamming the side of my skull into the pavement so that both halves of my face hurt. His hand was back over my mouth before I could cry out. I whimpered into it and started to wriggle away, my jerking limbs finally obeying my brain's commands.
"Stop."
His fingers clenched tighter, exhibiting strength that was beyond me even when I was in peak condition. I complied with the terse command; I couldn't have moved farther if I tried, anyway. At that, he smiled, but there was no warmth in his expression. I could see his squat, pug-like features clearly by then. He had dead eyes. I started tremble for a whole new reason.
"This was a waste. I don't have time to find her again," he muttered. Then his fulminous expression cleared, turning speculative. "Maybe…" Tilting my head back and forth, he eyed me like my little brothers eyed a full bowl of mac 'n cheese. Earnestly, he leaned in, staring curiously into my eyes. "Who would miss you?"
"Me, you son of a bitch."
Neither of us had time to react to the new voice. A blue tennis shoe snapped into the side of his head too swiftly to track. With a grunt, my attacker flew sideways, his hand ripped from my face as he careened into a green bumper. Before he could crumple to the asphalt, though, two strong, tanned hands reached over me and grabbed him by the collar. They lifted him bodily out of my space…and farther.
I turned my head to follow the hapless man's flight as he was hurled into the car across the lane. He rolled off the dented hood and fell in a boneless heap in front of it. I blinked and stared. The spider web pattern he'd left in the windshield was fascinating.
Suddenly, people were running everywhere. Some professional-looking Hawaiian dude in a really bright shirt appeared next to the fallen man, handcuffs glittering in his hand. Policemen and women swarmed between the cars—probably only a few, but to me it seemed like twenty. Then a new shape descended to my side, blocking them all out.
"Leesha, are you all right?" the newcomer questioned urgently. Hands found my shoulders and pulled me upright, and suddenly I was staring into Shannon's worried green eyes. She gave my arms a hard squeeze. "Alicia. Speak. Now."
Okay. I dropped my head to one side, my eyes flicking back to the groaning man behind her. "Does this mean you'll be able to sleep tonight?"
For a second, she didn't say anything. Then she laughed and shook her head, pulling me into a hug. It was nice. I rolled my forehead into the side of her neck and decided not to move for a very, very long time.
"I guess it's a good thing I gave you my number," a new man said from above. I recognized Officer Kelly's voice as Shannon hummed an agreement and nodded.
Rubbing circles on my arm with her thumb, she asked him, "Do you know who he is?"
The policeman sounded slightly distracted when replied. "His name's Mabaya. He fled here from Rwanda after his contract killing business went south. I managed to track him down through the flower purchases this morning, but we hadn't found him yet when you called."
Shannon nodded again and stood slowly, carefully helping me to my feet. Deprived of my headrest, I looked around again to distract myself from the pins and needles under my skin. My attacker was being ushered away in handcuffs by two uniform-wearing officers. From his unsteady gait, he wasn't faring much better than I was. I sent feral grin towards his back.
Officer Kelly saw the look. Raising an eyebrow, he put away his phone—texting his police buddies about the arrest would explain his earlier distraction—he pulled out a notebook instead and informed us mildly, "There's an ambulance on the way to get you checked out. Mind telling me what happened while we wait?"
I shrugged, shifting to try and get feeling back into my legs. "I didn't really do anything. I heard somebody talking to Leia—you found her, right?" Shannon and Kelly nodded. Pleased, I kept rambling. "Good. Anyway, I thought it might be the right Leia…since, you know, we definitely didn't hear you say her name back in your office but she had brown hair and eyes…and I followed her outside. Then I epically failed at getting her to call you, but it worked out anyway because she thought I was a serial killer and went inside to call the police. Which was kinda on purpose, because I was getting really bad vibes about the parking lot, so I just scared her into leaving the area so I could come out to look…"
Shannon made a disapproving noise. I ducked my head guiltily and refused to look over at her. She was probably going to tear me a new one when we were alone.
"…Which somehow ended with you arranging it so that both of you were electrocuted when he used this," Kelly finished for me, inclining his head towards the evidence bag on the back of a nearby car.
I scowled at the enveloped stun gun, my skin prickling reminiscently. "Yeah, I found her car. He must have thought I was her. The rest was an accident, though," I admitted, shrugging. "I just turned at a weird time. We were both surprised. I grabbed his wrist automatically. The rest was Shannon. She threw him into a car."
Pausing, Kelly glanced back over his shoulder at the dented metal and cracked glass that marked my would-be murderer's landing spot and raised an eyebrow at Shannon. She tossed her short hair defensively. "What? A serial killer attacks my girlfriend and I'm not supposed to beat his ass?"
Kelly inclined his head, one badass conceding the point of another. I shook my head, grumbling under my breath, "Too many friggin' ninjas around here."
Shannon laughed, wrapping an arm comfortably around my waist and leaning us both back against an open tailgate. Parking lots were great places to find easy seating. I dropped my head back on her shoulder where it belonged.
Watching my eyelids droop, Officer Kelly flipped his notebook shut. "I'll get the rest of your statements later."
I nodded hazily, so he walked off. When he was gone, I peeked hesitantly up at Shannon's expression through my bangs. She was gazing down at me, her eyes warm. Cautiously optimistic, I ventured, "So…you're not mad at me?"
"Jury's still out," she responded blithely, seemingly content to just watch my face.
The words seemed ominous, but I blocked out my worry in favor of snuggling closer to her side. "But at least he's caught, now. No more worrying."
Shannon snorted scornfully, poking me lightly in the ribs. "Leesha, next time you tell me not to worry, I'm locking you in a bunker."
Ta-da!
I am just so glad this is over.
You know what else makes me glad? YOU!
Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and follows and favorites and views and EVERYTHING. You make this worth it!
Until next time (which hopefully comes sooner than this time), hugs!
Knyle B.