Daisy looked at Werther, who shook his head almost imperceptibly in the negative.
She returned her gaze to me, crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head as he had. “I can’t do that.”
The sense of unreality grew. “How am I supposed to defend myself if you won’t even let me see the files?”
“We didn’t bring you here to defend yourself,” Werther said. “Simply to admit that you have been embezzling money from this non-profit. The evidence is clear.”
“What?” My eyes went wide. Where was this even coming from? I tried to regroup. “I have never touched a dime of MMHA’s money. Ever.” My heart was beating so hard that my chest was aching again. I felt as though I was in real danger of throwing up. “I’ve never even handled the money at this place. I just crunch numbers and fill out forms!”
“You committed fraud,” Werther said. “They trusted you.”
Daisy stood up, pointing at me with a shaking finger. “How could you take money from us?” She sounded appalled, like she believed everything Werther was saying without question. “You’re a fraud. We trusted you!”
After Daisy started, so did a few of the other board members.
All yelling out that I’d committed fraud. That I’d embezzled money. That they’d trusted me.
Like drones, they repeated every word he said.
I felt my grip on reality slipping. Was I in some kind of alternate universe? What in the actual fuck was going on here?
Every new lie that spewed from Werther’s mouth was immediately picked up by Daisy and the other board members. It was as though he had some kind of mental hold over them. Like they couldn’t think for themselves anymore.
Like Werther had somehow compelled them to believe whatever he said.
I had volunteered at this place for years. Years. But these people—people I knew, and who knew me—were all acting like I was a complete stranger that had walked into their office and stolen money at gunpoint.
Some of the board members started spewing things that were completely crazy. Saying I lived in a fancy house, leeching money from MMHA, when in fact I lived in a crappy 1940s two-bedroom bungalow that I could only afford because my dad had refinanced the mortgage for me. Claiming I drove an expensive car when everyone in the office knew I had a broken down Civic, and had needed to take the damn bus to even be here today.
Standing in front of them all, people I’d respected and trusted, I fought back tears, only the growing sense of dissociation with reality making it possible for me to keep them inside.
“Stop!” I said it aloud, though the croaked word was swallowed up by the growing clamor of outrage in the room. This entire thing was off-the-wall crazy. I refused to stay here any longer, accused of doing terrible things while Caspian Werther stared at me like some kind of mildly interesting science experiment.
I flung my backpack over my shoulder and glared at him.
“I don’t know who you are or how you pulled this off, but you won’t get away with this,” I said, pitching my shaking voice to be heard over the din.
Werther smiled. “Won’t I? I daresay I’ll be seeing you again soon, Zorah Bright. Until then.”
Daisy blocked my approach to the conference room door, her face the same cold mask it had been earlier. “You’re fired. I don’t ever want to see your face here again. Do you understand me?”
That broke me.
A horrible choking, clawing sensation clogged my throat. I opened the conference room door and rushed out wordlessly, passing Vonnie as I hurried by.
“Zorah?” Vonnie called my name, but I couldn’t speak. “What happened? Where are you going?”
There was no way I could answer her. I had to get out of this place before I lost it. Before that Werther guy came after me—because even though I wanted to believe this was the end of it, after his final words to me, something in my gut knew the nightmare was far from over. When I left the building, it was pouring outside. I didn’t care. I just ran, as far and as fast as I could. It had been a long time since I’d run like that, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d had enough. At that point, my body was in agony and my spirits were drowned.
I just wanted to go home.
About a block from where my lungs gave out, I saw a bus stop through the rain. I staggered up to it and sat, wet and alone, waiting for the bus to come. That was when I broke down crying.
Everything I’d spent the past few years working towards at MMHA was gone. Part of me had hoped the volunteer work would lead somewhere bigger, but if it didn’t I was okay with that. All I’d wanted was to do something good and make a difference.
Even that had turned into a disaster.
Fifteen minutes later, my tears were somewhat under control. The bus finally came. Unfortunately, it was the wrong bus line, so I ended up riding it much longer than I expected to. Lucky for me, my phone was fully charged. I dragged a pair of earbuds from my backpack and tried to drown out the thoughts in my brain with the loudest, angriest music I could find.
It didn’t work, but at least I’d be home soon, where I could crawl into bed and hide from the world. Hell, maybe I’d even call in sick tomorrow at AJ’s. I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted to do was sleep. After way too long riding around on unfamiliar buses, I finally caught the right one and made it to my stop.
I was soaked, but the rain suited my state of mind. Thanks to the overcast skies, it was far darker than it should have been at midday. That, too, suited my state of mind.
I got off the bus a couple of blocks from my house. When I turned toward my street, I saw a bunch of flashing red and blue lights in my neighborhood. My overworked heart started hammering again, wondering what the hell was happening now. Had there been a fire? Had one of my neighbors called an ambulance? As I reached the corner, it hit me.
It wasn’t the fire service or an ambulance—it was the police. Lots of them. And they weren’t just near my house. They were surrounding it.
I started to panic. Any other day, I would have assumed that it was just some stupid misunderstanding. I would have approached the police cars and asked what was going on. But today? No. This wasn’t a coincidence.
It wasn’t paranoia when they really were out to get you. And whoever this Werther guy was, he was out for blood. Mine.
I remembered my dream—the one about Mom. Her death. How all these years, I’d suspected it wasn’t an accident. Now, I was more certain than ever. Something was wrong in the world. Terribly, terribly wrong.
I could feel it in the ache of my bones. The frantic beat of my heart. Werther wanted me, and I needed to run far and fast. I thought about the creeping sensation of dread he engendered in me, and knew that I couldn’t let him catch me. Something deep inside me was screaming that letting him catch me would mean death, or worse.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the fallen hood of my raincoat over my head and kept walking. Past the corner, past my street, past the police cars waiting for me. One step at a time, I walked like I didn’t have a care in the world. The rain beat down harder—a fitting accompaniment to my life being washed away in the space of a single morning. I was soaked—a drowned rat scurrying for safety—but at least I was still free.
At least I wasn’t in Werther’s hands.
About a mile away from my house stood a convenience store with a small deli attached. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing no indication anyone was following me. In the pit of my stomach, though, I knew they’d be looking soon. Coming after me.
As I got closer to my temporary destination, my mind spun with worry. I’d watched enough police procedural shows to know all the ways they could track a person these days. Was there any way to hide from this, if Werther really wanted to find me? Especially if he had the cops in his pocket somehow?
Finally, I reached the entrance to the little sandwich shop. Breathless from exhaustion and panic, I scanned the interior for anybody suspicious. Not that I’d know what suspicious looked like under these cir
cumstances, but everything seemed normal. Nothing set off my internal radar. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, and only two other people were inside eating.
I grabbed a cheap plastic booth in the corner and buried my head in my arms. I tried holding in the fresh round of tears, but I couldn’t do it. I was tired. Wet. Alone. I didn’t know what to do. Who to call. Who to trust.
When I could breathe again, I lifted my head. The kid at the counter was eyeing me warily, but thankfully she didn’t seem inclined to come over and talk to me. I wiped my face with a napkin and tried to take stock. A quick rummage through my backpack unearthed a twenty-dollar bill, my Metro pass, and a credit card that was about a hundred dollars from being maxed out.
I cast about for anyone I could call. Vonnie was a no-go because of the MMHA connection. I thought she’d seemed okay when I’d rushed past her while making my escape. But if Daisy could be turned into a pod person, Vonnie could be, too.
My breath caught as an idea surfaced. Len. I could call Len. He’d given me his number yesterday, and for some reason he seemed to give a damn about me. When another nervous glance at my surroundings showed nothing suspicious, I pulled out my cell and scrolled to his number, then hit call and waited.
It rang a few times before Len finally answered. “Who’s this?” he asked, and I realized he’d have no way to recognize my number.
I swallowed hard. “Len? It’s Zorah. I... I’m in trouble.”
There was a slight pause. “Oh, my god. What the hell is going on?” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Zorah, the cops are here at the restaurant, and they’re asking about you.”
I had to suppress a moan of near-despair. “I didn’t do anything, Len,” I said, desperate to make him believe me. “They’re at my house, too. I don’t know what the hell is happening!”
Another pause. I held my breath. When Len spoke again, his voice held a faint tremor. “Okay. Okay, Zorah. Whatever you do, don’t come here. Look... they’re coming back to the kitchen. I can’t talk now. I’ll try to call you in a few minutes. Be safe.”
Len hung up and I tapped the end button, feeling the finality as the call disconnected. I sat in the booth, staring out the window—watching the rain fall to earth.
Nowhere to go. No one to trust.
Alone.
NINE
NUMBNESS WAS STARTING TO creep in around the fear, and I welcomed it. The girl at the counter was still giving me the side-eye. No surprise since I hadn’t ordered anything, and had basically come in and started crying all over her freshly wiped table. I was also starting to get unwanted attention from the other patrons. Under the circumstances, having attention on me felt dangerous.
I’d managed to blot my tears and was trying to think through my options logically when Len called back. I nearly fumbled the phone in my haste to take the call.
“Len?” I asked breathlessly.
“Zorah, what the fuck happened today?” Len asked, his voice quiet. “Tell me quick—the cops are out talking to the manager right now.”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize my rampaging thoughts. “Okay. Remember that stalker guy last night? Well, long story short—he claims to be a state auditor. I volunteer downtown at a non-profit and help with keeping their books. Ponytail Guy showed up this morning claiming I embezzled money from the organization and committed tax fraud to hide it. My boss fired me on the spot and when I went home, there were a bunch of cops surrounding my house. But I swear, Len—I swear to you—I didn’t do anything. You know me... would I be riding the bus and stressing over my busted transmission if I’d been skimming tens of thousands of dollars from someone? None of it makes any sense!”
There was a short pause. “I believe you, Zorah.” I released my breath, taken by surprise at how much it affected me to hear someone say that. He continued, “Look, if you didn’t do anything... maybe you should just give yourself up. I mean, I’m not any huge fan of the cops or the legal system, but these things usually have a way of working themselves out if you’re innocent.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “No, there’s way more to this. I’m telling you, the stuff he asked me yesterday at the restaurant was all really personal. It had nothing to do with the non-profit or my work. And honestly, Len, the guy gives me the major creeps. It’s not just the normal ‘guys suck’ thing, but like... he’s dangerous. Seriously fucking dangerous. I know, it sounds stupid. But whenever I’m around him, I want to crawl out of my own skin and run away.”
Another pause. “I saw how freaked out you were with him. And that was after seeing how freaked out you weren’t, when Jake was being an asshole before your shift. I just... want you to keep your options open, when it comes to the police, okay? Other than that, are you safe?”
“Yeah,” I said unthinkingly. “I think so. I’m at the—”
He cut me off. “No, stop. Don’t tell me where you are. It’s safer that way. In case the police... you know.”
Jesus. He was right. And I wasn’t used to having to think like this. Like a fugitive. “Yeah, okay.”
“Good. Hey, I’ve got to go. They’re coming back into the kitchen again. Stay safe, girl.”
The phone went silent. He’d hung up.
I was alone again. I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I was alone whether Len was on the phone with me or not. What did I expect him to do for me right now?
Cops were at AJ’s looking for me. They were at my house. Who the hell knew where else they were, but they were obviously dead serious about finding me. I tried to think. I’d never been so much as fingerprinted before. I wasn’t in any registry that I knew of, so they couldn’t really know what I looked like unless they looked up my driver’s license, right?
Even so, I wasn’t at all sure of my ability to evade the cops on my own. If they wanted to find me badly enough, they would—eventually. But maybe I could stay out of the net long enough to get some legal help lined up, at the very least. Right now, if I disappeared, who would notice?
I didn’t know if I could trust Vonnie, or if Werther might have gotten to her somehow. My supervisor at the restaurant would assume the cops had caught up with me. Len would know something was wrong, but it was a stretch to expect him to stick his neck out any further for me than he already had. I was growing to like him, but the reality was, we barely knew each other. It was a sobering thought.
I sat for a while longer, thinking about what I had with me. Twenty bucks and a credit card. Maybe I could find a cheap motel somewhere, but the cops could probably track me based on my credit card use. I really didn’t know much about that stuff, beyond the fact that with technology today, if somebody wanted to find me, they would.
The more I thought about how to get out of this, the angrier I got. I was completely alone. No close friends, no family worth a damn. How the hell had my life come to this? I was not going to become some statistic... some kind of bullshit Illuminati conspiracy victim. This was America. People weren’t supposed to be hauled away by the police on trumped-up charges to face god-knew-what at the hands of creepy government officials. I refused to lie down for this.
The counter girl was beginning to look decidedly twitchy. I figured it would be a good idea to relocate before she started to think about calling her manager or asking me to leave. There was a grocery store a few blocks away that would be much busier. I figured crowds would be my friend right now. Anonymity was what I needed.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and gathered my things, then left the deli. As I glanced around the area, there didn’t seem to be anybody looking for me. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances. I put my hood up as I started walking down the cracked sidewalk.
It was a busy street, so nobody would pay much mind to me... I hoped. But I kept my head down just in case. After a couple of blocks, I reached the grocery store and went inside. The pharmacy was beside the restrooms, and there were benches in the hallway outside. Sitting here, I would look like any other customer waiting for a prescr
iption to be filled. The noise of tinny Muzak and people talking would cover the details of a quiet phone conversation, as long as no one decided to plop down on the same bench as me.
To discourage that, I set my bag down next to me, taking up way more space than I really needed. Still full of my earlier determination to do whatever it took to get out of this, I pulled my phone out, took a deep breath, and called my dad.
I could predict with reasonable certainty how this conversation was going to go. But the fact remained, he was the only resource I hadn’t tried to use yet. Realistically, at this point, he was the only resource I had left.
After a few rings, he answered.
“Dad?” My hands were shaking just holding my cell.
“Zorah? Is that you? I’m working, what do you want?” Short. To the point. Exactly what I’d expected.
“Yeah, sorry. Listen, I really need you, Dad. Something’s happened.”
The phone went silent for a long moment. I seemed to be having that effect on people a lot today. Then, “Are you okay? What is it?”
Holy crap. Was that concern in his voice?
“No. I’m not okay, Dad. I need help.” I couldn’t lie, as much as I wanted to. As much as I wanted to pretend I was strong, and that I had my shit together, I really, really didn’t right now. “Something real bad is going on, and I don’t know what to do. Last night at AJ’s, this creepy guy came in and harassed me for my entire shift—start to finish. He kept asking me things like if I lived in town, and how old I was. He even asked if you and Mom were alive.”
My voice trembled on the last sentence. I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“Then today, I went to MMHA and the same guy was there, claiming to be an auditor for the state. He was saying that I embezzled money and committed fraud, which I swear to you I didn’t. I had the supporting documents all ready to prove that I hadn’t done anything wrong, but he wouldn’t even let me defend myself. My supervisor fired me on the spot, and this guy threatened me on my way out. When I went home, there were cop cars surrounding the house, and a guy at AJ’s told me over the phone that cops were there, too, looking for me. I’m so sorry to dump this on you, Dad... but I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who else to call. I’m afraid. Really fucking afraid. What do I do?”
The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set Page 7
