Deceived

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Call Pixie. Tell her to meet you at the library after she’s finished. Tell her not to go home first. Tell her you need a ride from there. She must go there first. Make sure she does.” His words came slow and steady. He waited for an acknowledgment from me. The instructions were crystal clear.

  My mouth fell open. Something happened that I didn’t see. I turned around in my seat, looking at nothing. A full moon shone over the usual parked cars. I should’ve seen whatever he saw.

  “Call now.” Another order.

  I dialed immediately.

  We pulled off of the curb as Pixie’s voicemail kicked on. I delivered the message as calmly as I could manage. Panic spread through me, harder to conceal with each word. I couldn’t be positive, because I was talking, but it seemed like he spoke to himself as I followed orders.

  I thought I heard, “Should have gone with your father.”

  We sped away from my street. My heart ached for Pixie to answer. I’d just spoken with her an hour earlier. I knew she was fine, but all things considered, I was terrified.

  “What did she say?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing. I mean I got her voicemail.” I looked at him for reassurance. I hoped he’d say she’d call right back, don’t worry, but he didn’t. I couldn’t grasp why we’d fled my street or why he didn’t explain.

  “Try her again.” Authority filled his voice.

  Panic coursed through me. Pixie.

  A minute later I looked back to him. “No,” I whispered. “Just music and then voicemail.”

  A curse escaped his beautiful lips and seemed to sit there, not belonging.

  “Stay here,” he instructed. We were outside the main building on campus already. Several dozen assorted students, faculty, and parents stood in clusters setting things in motion for the weekend festivities. He wanted me to do what, decorate?

  “There are at least two members of my team here tonight watching the crowds. You’ll be safe if you stay with the crowd. Do you understand?” He waited for me to nod.

  My countenance must’ve shown utter confusion because he leaned over me and pushed the door open.

  His gun, missing from its holster, was nestled in his waistband, beneath the loosely fitting jacket.

  He would end him. The words appeared in my brain. Fear grabbed me by the shoulders. I turned stiffly in my seat and got out.

  Nicholas drove away too fast, drawing attention my way. I ducked into a shadow and tried to blend. In the darkness, it wasn’t as difficult as I had imagined. However, I’d been warned to stay in a crowd. I joined the largest group I saw. Then, under harsh security lighting, I helped scoop goo out of pumpkins and string twinkle lights through gourds. All the while wondering which of my fellow decorators were undercover U.S. Marshals, if one might be a serial killer, and what was happening to Nicholas?

  Chapter Fifteen

  My mind hit overdrive and locked. I didn’t know who to be more afraid for, Pixie or Nicholas. I knew Nicholas could take care of himself, but I also knew he sought danger. Something had spooked him enough to cause him to drop me off and peel out. A myriad of horrific things could be happening to the people I cared about most. Emotion threatened to overtake me.

  Meandering through the crowd, I took notice of faces and interactions. Kate stood in a circle of adults and two children, smiling. Aubrie and Darcy laughed at a man old enough to be their grandfather. Lacrosse players and a mix of students from my classes shared popcorn with people I presumed to be their families. Did my dad and I look the same to others when we were together? I knew most of the teachers’ faces. A handful of groundskeepers dipped and moved near the tables, filling trash bags with cast-off pumpkin parts and delivering wheelbarrows of mums. The groundskeeper from my wall stared at me through the crowd. Under the circumstances, the thought of talking with him knotted my stomach. I hid behind a tree to catch my breath. When I looked back, he was gone.

  If there were hidden Marshals watching, I couldn’t identify them. The tops of the buildings were clear, no sharpshooters or men with giant binoculars. The faces I didn’t recognize were too young to be on assignment. Unless Nicholas’s team was as young as he was. I made a second attempt to find the faces that didn’t belong. They all seemed at ease, part of the picture.

  Twenty minutes later, I caved. I tried Pixie’s phone again. Someone answered but didn’t speak. I held my breath, deciding if I should say something or hang up. I had to know if she was safe. I took a deep breath, prepared to force the word from between tight lips. “Pixie?”

  “Elle? Where are you?” Nicholas answered. His voice had a sharp edge beneath the calm.

  “Nicholas?” The thrill in my voice washed through me. For a moment, the killer didn’t exist. Only Nicholas. Nothing else mattered. Then, for the briefest of moments, I hoped he and the stalker weren’t one and the same. Silly, of course. I’d seen his badge. Unless it was a fake, or Marshals could also be killers. I chewed my lip and looked again for other “Marshals” in the crowd.

  “Are you safe? Is Pixie? Can I talk to her?” I rambled through the words, not knowing what to ask first, pushing awful thoughts aside.

  “She’s not here, Elle.” Loud rustling preceded a few thumps and the slam of his Jeep door. “I found her purse on the sofa. Her phone rang and I answered.”

  “Where are you now?” I looked around. Could he have her? What if he wasn’t who I thought? The Internet could be wrong, couldn’t it? Tears slid over my cheeks. I had no idea what was real. Pixie had had her purse an hour ago. Where was she?

  “On my way. Stay with the crowd. I’ll be there in three-and-a-half minutes.”

  The phone disconnected. I stood statue still, waiting for collapse. I stumbled back into the crowd, hoping to look natural, marveling that I stayed upright.

  My fingers tingled. I clenched and released fists at my side, eyes glued to the road in search of the Jeep’s headlights. Would his headlights represent my rescue party or my end? When they appeared, my muscles tensed. My feet begged to run. My brain commanded them to stay. I needed to remain in the crowd. Anchored to the ground, I waited. The Jeep seemed to move in slow motion during the longest minutes in history.

  I expected him to stop along the curb. I should’ve known better. He came within a few feet of me. The crowd dispersed in my general area. Everyone watched as the door popped open, and I ran to get inside. He’d disabled the interior light. I doubted anyone saw Nicholas. He’d need a new car, though. If he thought no one would know whom the Jeep belonged to, he was wrong.

  The door had barely closed behind me before we were in motion. I grabbed the dashboard and hoped leaving with him was the right decision. Outside the guard gate, he pulled into a field and shut down the engine.

  “Are you okay?” He looked much more dramatic than before. His eyes were too wide, perhaps with relief. The subdued expressions I’d grown used to had flared into what looked like barely tamped emotion.

  “Yes. I was disemboweling pumpkins with a bunch of faculty and random citizens. You went to hunt a killer.” I suppressed the urge to laugh again. My nerves were stretched to the brink.

  “I’m fine. You’re safe. We’re good.” He leaned across me and I completely stopped breathing. Pulling my seat belt back across my torso, he smiled.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “It’s my job.” The words were flat. My heart fell.

  “Your job.”

  I turned my face away from him. The car didn’t move. I jumped when he touched my chin with one long finger. “Chasing murderers is my job, Elle.” He narrowed his eyes when I turned to him. “Protecting you is much more than that. I told you. You’ve made it personal.” His voice grew tender. His expression tightened.

  “Even after you’ve gone to school in the fall and set up a new life for yourself, I’ll still be protecting you. Do you understand?” His eyes smoldered. My heart swelled at the words. He shifted into gear, and we were gone.

  I cleared my head to focus on
the fact that he wanted to protect me always. It wasn’t his job that compelled him. That, I liked. I didn’t like hearing him talk about me leaving.

  He turned toward me before beginning a new line of questions. “Do you know who Pixie is with now?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Not now. An hour ago she was headed for the coffee shop in town. She wouldn’t be there now.”

  “She didn’t say anything to you about her plans?”

  “No.” For as much as Pixie and I talked, I knew little about her. The trunk full of designer clothes came to mind as a perfect example.

  “Where does she spend most of her time? We’ll make the rounds until we find her or someone who saw her tonight.” Nicholas was in business mode.

  “She goes to the art studio on the river a lot.”

  “Right.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant until the Jeep spun around, throwing me into the window. He cut across two side roads and arrived on the main strip leading to the studio. He’d been there enough to know the shortcuts, or he had the small town memorized. Either struck me as possible.

  We turned off the road. “There.” I pointed at Suzy Sunshine.

  The Jeep swerved over grass, bypassing the small parking area altogether. He leaned over me again and shoved the door wide. “Get her out here alone, all right? You have two minutes.”

  A combination of many things flung me from the car. The night and the urgency in his voice, for starters. His strange departure and reemergence from my apartment topped the list. I jumped out and dashed through the crowd outside the studio. “Pixie!” I pushed my way along, searching, screaming over the loud bass pounding the wide oaken planks beneath me. A bewildered freshman pointed an uncertain finger toward the ladies’ room.

  “Pixie!” I yelled again, pushing the door open. She stood reapplying eyeliner and fluffing her pointy hair.

  When she caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, she exploded. “Elle! OMG! I’m so stoked you came.” She spun and threw her arms around my neck. “So, tell. How was the not going out? Spare no details, please. Come on, give it. All of it this time. No more half stories and goofy looks. I want details. Real details.” She pulled back and looked into my face.

  So many things circled in my mind. Could she see my visions of a campus killer? My obsession with a gorgeous U.S. Marshal? No. Maybe the possible home invasion was written on my forehead.

  Her face wrinkled. She grabbed my hand and headed for the door. “Come on. Everyone’s here.”

  I jumped, throwing myself between Pixie and the door. I only had two minutes, and I was sure I’d already used that up trying to find her. “Wait.” My voice firmed up. “You have to come with me. Now. Let’s go.” I took the lead and she stopped cold.

  “Hey.” She pulled her hand free from mine. “How’d you get here?” Her smile widened. She swung the door open and somehow I followed her again. “Ah! Is he here? The one you didn’t go out with?” She stopped short, causing me to bump into her. My eyes scanned the crowd. “He totally is. I knew it. He’s here and I’m dying. Where’d you put him?” She spun around, her black babydoll top spinning with her. I clearly wasn’t getting across the urgency I hoped to convey.

  “Let’s go.” I didn’t need to see him to know who’d spoken.

  Nicholas pressed against me from behind, forcing me into her. We moved through a crowd that barely seemed to notice him, though he towered over 80 percent of the students present.

  “What?” Pixie’s exclamation made my ears ring despite the powerful bass beats. “I knew it. I knew it. You tried to hide it. You faker.” Her head turned left and right trying to find eye contact over her shoulder as we moved steadily ahead. “I knew it when you two met this summer. You guys have a vibe. It’s completely cosmic. Destiny.” She beamed at her incredible insight and threw her arms wide in the night.

  “Hey,” someone groaned when her hand hit his cup.

  Nicholas stayed so close that I wondered if there was a danger present that I didn’t see. After whatever had gone on at our apartment, I worried danger might be everywhere. I needed to stop being oblivious to it. It’d help if Nicholas told me things. I held on to Pixie with my pointer finger hooked into her belt. I didn’t want to risk losing her again. Wading through the crowd took time, even with Nicholas behind us. With a little direction, Pixie led the way to the Jeep.

  At the Jeep, he took her drink and tossed it into the oversized vase on The Pier before getting inside. The vase was probably supposed to be art. That night, it served as a trash can.

  “Get in.” His voice came deep and low. She shot me a naughty look and climbed in, probably expecting a scandalous evening with the new guy. She had no idea.

  As we pulled back onto the country road, the bass in my chest weakened, until it reduced to no more than a low bumping in the distance. My mind reeled at the number of kids who, though we had literally knocked them out of our way, had no idea we’d been there. An entire sea of people hadn’t seen us. Abduction seemed a lot more plausible after the experience.

  “Pixie,” Nicholas broke the silence.

  I tensed for what he might say.

  “I’m sorry I’ve had to lie to you. I take full responsibility for that. I was never supposed to have contact with you, not in a causal manner.”

  “Look, it’s fine.” She dismissed him before she could have had any idea what she was forgiving. Life was too short to carry a grudge. “I understand. Dating in this student body is hard to keep quiet, but you can’t resist my girl’s mojo. Whatever. I’m cool.” She bounced along to an inaudible beat, tapping a rhythm on her thighs with silver-crackled fingernails.

  He made a face. It cracked me up. All the stress had my nerves tensed to spring. Laughter bubbled in my chest. My sanity needed a release. My mojo. I stifled the giggles as best I could. Nervous laughter was the worst affliction ever.

  Nicholas rubbed his eyes more roughly than he should while driving. “Listen to me, Pixie. I’m a U.S. Marshal on assignment at Francine Frances. You’re in danger, and I’m afraid you’re leaving town immediately.” He glanced at me for a response. My mouth fell open.

  Pixie looked down behind us, paying zero attention.

  “Pixie, did you hear me?”

  “Yes. I’m in danger, and we’re playing some sort of Halloween role-play, who done it, mystery game. Where’re we going?” She glanced up.

  “This is not a game, Priscilla. There’s been an intruder in your apartment, and you cannot go back there. You’re going home.”

  She shot me a nasty look, probably for telling him her real name, but I hadn’t. We both stared at him.

  “You said I can’t go home because of an intruder. Get your game straight, Brian. Where’d you find my purse, by the way? I lost it after Elle called before.” She scrolled around in her phone. “Hey, you called again.” She rolled her eyes. “I missed it.”

  “The bag was at your apartment. Please try to pay attention, Priscilla.”

  “Nicholas,” I began, but Pixie interrupted.

  “Is that why you’re calling me Priscilla? We all have new names for this? Why Nicholas, though? Blech.” She stuck her finger in her mouth and pretended to vomit.

  I couldn’t take it. I started to giggle again. This time it trickled out.

  “Hey, and also, someone stole my bag and returned it inside my apartment? What’s that about? You guys aren’t very good at this game. Did you make it up?”

  “Nicholas is my name,” he growled.

  I snorted. I threw a hand over my mouth and nose, cursing my awful timing.

  “Brian was an alias. I’m a United States Marshal assigned to a case that brought me here.” His eyes slid from the rearview to mine and back.

  I had to give him credit for fortitude. I would’ve given up. I did give up.

  Pixie sighed and put her phone in her lap. She leaned between the two front seats, one elbow on each headrest. “Okay, what�
��d the intruder take?”

  “Nothing.” His voice was low, slow, unhappy. “He wanted to show me he could get to you, to prove he’s in control.”

  “What’s this?” She pulled my tiny pumpkin from behind the seats. It had a steel kabob spear through it.

  I let out a gasp. I didn’t need an explanation.

  Nicholas gave another sidelong glance. “A warning.”

  What kind of person would hurt a little pumpkin? My eyebrows gathered together for support. I didn’t think it looked like a warning. It looked more like a threat to me.

  “Pixie,” my voice cracked when I spoke. “He’s serious. This is for real.”

  Silence filled the car as the Jeep wound through the mountains.

  “The man I’m looking for was in your apartment tonight. He’s dangerous. He’s a sociopath, and he knows where you live. He broke the light on your stoop and closed your blinds. He waited for you.” Nicholas’s eyes sought Pixie’s. “When I went to drop off Elle, I noticed. I went back, but he was gone. He left the pumpkin for me.”

  “The bag beneath your purse is yours. I wasn’t sure what you’d need. I did my best to think of everything I’d want, if I were in your position. The rest will be sent to you once you’re reestablished.”

  My eyes widened. Could he be serious? She had to leave right now? He had tossed some random things into a duffle bag. She had to be thankful for as much and just go? My stomach fell. The same feeling I had when an elevator dropped a few feet before the door opened. I hated this for her.

  “The story will be that there was a small fire in your apartment. You received minor injuries. Your parents brought you home to finish your senior year. They don’t know you’re coming. We aren’t certain if you are or are not safe. If it’s determined you’re in danger, you won’t be able to tell your parents where you’ve gone.”

  I shot him a horrified look. I couldn’t imagine what might be going through Pixie’s mind.

  “There’s a solid chance you’ll be safe. As far as I could tell, the two of you spent very little time together outside the apartment. It’s unlikely the Reaper will see you as a point of contact in the future. In which case, you’ll be able to contact your parents and anyone else you choose in a few weeks.” While I thought that through, he looked at me. “No one from Francine Frances.”