by Linda Palmer
"I don't believe this."
"Stay here. I want to check inside."
"No way." Thoroughly spooked, I grabbed his wrist with both hands. We entered the living room single file. I let go long enough to flick on the light.
Gently easing free of my death grip, Zander began to search the house. I heard doors opening and shutting in each of the two bedrooms, the bathroom, and the kitchen. He walked back to me. "No one in hiding, but now is definitely the time to call the police."
I didn't argue. Surely I could keep my aunt and uncle out of it. "9-1-1, or do we go to the station?"
"They should come here. Might want to look around or something."
I dug into my purse for my cell phone and dialed those three numbers, something I'd never done before. When a lady answered, I explained what had happened using as few words as possible since a story like tonight's could easily get convoluted. The dispatcher promised that someone would be there soon.
Zander
While the two of us waited, Riley checked out every room herself to see if anything had been stolen. I followed her around, not because I thought I might've missed someone hiding in a closet. I was afraid she'd collapse or something. She put up a good front, but her pale face and shaky hands told the real story. Besides, I'd watched her too long in the food court to not know she wasn't herself.
I liked her apartment. It felt cozy. I also liked the personal touches that made it that--family photos; a hall tree with a couple of jackets, a ball cap, and a scarf on it; and the well-worn furniture. Hand me downs from home? I wondered. Or had the apartment come furnished?
On one hand, I wished I'd never agreed to follow her home. I sincerely regretted giving her hope about us when we had no future. On the other hand, though, I had no regrets I'd gone with my gut a second time and done both. It felt good to be doing something worthwhile for a change.
"What are you thinking?"
Riley's question yanked me from my thoughts. I glanced over to where she sat in a recliner, one foot tucked under her. She had a little pink in her cheeks now. I wasn't sorry to see it. "I'm thinking that I'm glad you're okay."
"Yeah, because of you. Did I thank you?"
"You bought my breakfast."
"But I didn't say the words."
To my surprise, she hopped up and moved to sit right next to me, our thighs just touching. My heart rate kicked up a notch. I leaned back slightly to keep from smelling her cologne.
"Thank you, Zander, for saving my ass tonight."
Her sincerity brought a lump to my throat. Irritated that everything seemed to get to me these days, I swallowed hard, something I did a lot. "I was glad to do it."
"When I think what could've hap--"
I covered her mouth with my hand. "Don't think. Put it out of your head. Focus on glass-half-full shit."
That made her laugh, a magical sound that put the twinkle back in her eyes. "For example?"
"The price of gasoline. The effectiveness of our legislators. Our failing educational system. Oh wait. Wrong half of the glass."
She laughed again, an infectious sound that made my stupid joke worth the effort.
Headlights outside alerted us to the squad car turning into Riley's drive. I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes wasn't too bad as far as response times went on a Saturday night. The policeman who came introduced himself as Sergeant Brian and wore plain clothes. We told him our names. I made note of Riley's last name-- McConnell--since she'd never given it to me.
Sergeant Brian stood around six feet tall, was probably in his early fifties, and had short salt-and-pepper hair that reminded me of my dad. He sat in Riley's recliner and listened intently to her entire story without interrupting, though he did make some notes.
When she finished, he took the floor. "First off, no key in the turtle."
"I'd never."
"Good. How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
Good to know.
"Your parents?"
"They live in a suburb of Dallas."
"Have you called them?"
"No, and I don't plan to. At least not yet."
Brian didn't challenge her. "You two are together?" He flicked a finger to indicate that he referred to me. I waited for her answer, too.
"We met for the first time tonight."
The cop took that in stride and focused on me. "What are you? Twenty, twenty-one?"
"Twenty-three, sir."
"Military?"
"Medical discharge in January."
"And you enlisted when?"
"I was nineteen."
Sergeant Brian nodded as if those questions were actually pertinent to the current situation and turned his attention to Riley again. "Are you absolutely sure you didn't have a class with this Jason guy?"
"Ye--" She hesitated. "Actually, no. Some of the basic classes were huge. He could easily have been in one of them, especially since I don't really know what he looks like."
I could tell the question had upset her and guessed why. She could pass Jason and his homies in a hallway come Monday and not even know it.
"Can you think of a reason why he or anyone else would come after you? Do you have a disgruntled ex? Have you turned down a wannabe boyfriend? Ignored any guys trying to get your attention?"
"No."
"Height of your attacker?"
She thought about it. "Um--"
"Jason and I were heads even, which would put him at six- one," I told him. "The jerk she's calling 'tall guy' was maybe an inch over that. 'Short guy' couldn't have been over five-seven."
"Hair and eyes?"
"They were wearing weird contacts. All black," Riley said. "And they all had their hoods up."
Sergeant Brian glanced at me for confirmation and got my nod. "Was there anything special about any of your assailants besides the zombie face paint? A tic, a limp? Did you see any jewelry? Tats? Scars, moles, cuts or scrapes, fever blisters on any of them?"
"No."
I helped her out again. "Jason had an earring and some kind of Asian symbol on his neck that I'm pretty sure I've seen before. Tall guy had a wispy mustache. Shorty had this look." I rubbed my scruffy chin.
"Did anyone touch your car door?" Sergeant Brian asked her next.
She thought back. "Don't think so. Jason did touch my keys."
"Yeah, but he had on gloves," I told them.
Riley sighed, visibly distressed that she hadn't been more help.
Sergeant Brian scribbled something before he shut the little notebook he'd been writing in. "At this point, there's not much I can do except contact mall security and review any video they might have." He stood, as did we. "Speaking as a father of two girls, I believe you should think about moving to another neighborhood. There are some reasonable apartments on the east side that are new and taking renters. Or maybe you should consider university housing."
"My aunt put me on a waiting list." Her expression revealed she wasn't thrilled to be there.
"At the least, you should change those locks. There are several twenty-four-seven locksmiths in the city. Pricey, but you need to get it done as soon as possible or sleep somewhere else tonight."
"I'll take care of it for her," I said.
Sergeant Brian looked at me for a couple of moments and patted my shoulder before catching Riley's eye. "You're very lucky this guy here follows hunches."
"Believe me, I know."
"If I were you, I'd vary my routine just to be safe. If you think of anything you haven't told me, call this number." He handed her a card, but not before he wrote another number on the back of it. "This is my personal cell and my email address. Don't hesitate to use either. I won't mind." His gaze narrowed slightly. "Sure you don't want to call your folks? If you were mine, I'd want to know."
"I promise I will if anything else happens."
"Okay." Sergeant Brian left us, pausing on the porch to scan the area just as I'd done earlier. With a shake of his head that could've meant he'd come to th
e same bad conclusion, he walked to his car and left.
Chapter Five
Riley
I stared at the card. "I can't believe he gave me his personal phone number."
"He really wants you to use it, by the way. Now I'm going to make a Wal-Mart run. Will you be okay?"
"Yes, because I'm coming, too." Snatching up my purse, I followed him to his truck.
Later, while Zander changed out the locks I'd paid for, I wore out the threadbare beige carpet even more with my pacing. I wanted to be brave, but all I could think about was how scared I'd been in the parking lot. The fact that I would never feel safe again saddened and infuriated me. Although I didn't want to let those creeps change the way I looked at the world, they somehow had.
Did they know it? Was that the whole point of the attack? To frighten me? Had they done the same thing to other girls? Was it fun for them? I watched Zander, who was on his right knee with the other at a slightly awkward angle that looked uncomfortable. I remembered the way he'd walked in the food court, with his gait slightly off. Though he'd seemed okay afterward, I now wondered if it was his leg that had been hurt in Afghanistan.
I sat on my couch, my thoughts on the fighting overseas and my eyes on Zander, who'd shed his hoodie at some point and now wore a white T-shirt that showed off how fit he was. War was so cruel. No one ever really won. I wished I knew more of his story. He'd indicated that a military career wasn't his parents' wish for him. Yet he'd enlisted anyway and served three years. That made him my kind of guy. After all, I'd chosen my public health major because I wanted to make a difference in people's lives.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Zander glance at me. I realized he was making sure that I wasn't watching when he got up, so I made it a point not to stare directly at him. His struggling a little seemed to confirm my guess that his leg was the problem. I hoped it was a wound that would soon heal so he could get back to his life.
"All done." He joined me on the couch, wincing slightly as he sat. I pretended not to notice.
"How long have you been officially out of the army?" I asked.
"MEB referred me to the PEB last January. I was discharged a month later."
"MEB being?"
"Medical Evaluation Board. PEB is Physical Evaluation Board."
"How long have you been living in San Antonio?"
"Three months."
"Are you working?"
"I'm not cleared for it yet, but I may have something lined up for when I am. Haven't made up my mind on that." He glanced at his watch and winced. "Are you handing out tacos today?"
"No."
"Good. You can catch up on your sleep."
That was so not happening, but I didn't tell him that. "Do you want something to drink before you go? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Coke?"
"No more coffee for me. How about a Coke?"
The thought of being alone in the house made my stomach churn as I went into my kitchen to fill a glass with ice. I poured his drink and waited for the fizz to retreat, my mind a million miles away. I thought of my aunt and uncle and almost wished I was back in the tiny bedroom I'd shared with Jilly, my twelve-year-old cousin. At least I'd be safe, but at the cost of my privacy and independence.
"Riley?"
I screamed and whirled to face Zander, who'd sneaked up on me without meaning to. I tried to laugh off my overreaction, but it sounded forced even to me. "Sorry."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I handed him the Coke. "I have cookies."
"What kind?"
"Oatmeal and raisin. Homemade."
"I'd take a couple."
I gave them to him. We walked back to the living room and sat again on the ugly tan corduroy couch that had come with the apartment, an empty cushion between us.
Jason took a bite of cookie. "This is excellent. Er, are you going to be all right here alone? I mean, I could stay--"
"Oh my God. Would you? If your trailer is really a dump, my spare bedroom is bound to better. You'd save me a crap load of bother renting it out and make me feel safer in the bargain." I registered his shocked expression. "What?"
"I meant I'd stand guard while you sleep today."
"Oops." My cheeks felt scorched, sure indication they were red. Why? Because I'd moved the guy into my apartment when all he meant to do was hang around for a little longer. Completely humiliated, I played with a tear in the arm rest.
"Look at me."
I couldn't bear to.
"Riley, look at me."
I gazed into kind, golden-brown eyes rimmed with thick lashes.
"Are you afraid of being here alone?"
"I'm fine. Just shaken up."
"You're lying."
I opened my mouth to protest. He touched a finger to my lips.
"I can always tell. Always."
"Another trick you learned in basic training?" I laughed until I realized he hadn't even cracked a smile. "Wait...for real?"
He nodded. "It's a gift."
"Are you saying you read minds?" I watched paranormal TV regularly and totally believed in psychics even if I'd never met one.
"Not exactly. I mean, I can't tell what you're thinking now. But I know without a doubt that you lied when you told me you were fine. That's why I enlisted, Riley. I had this amazing talent that was going to waste because my parents thought it was useless."
"Is that what you did while you were in Afghanistan? Figure out if people were telling the truth?"
He nodded once. "I was a very handy man to have around during an interrogation."
"I can't believe they'd ever discharge someone as valuable as you. Wouldn't some kind of medical leave have been better? I mean, there is such a thing, isn't there?"
Zander didn't respond to that.
Hm. "May I test you on the lying thing?"
"Go for it."
"My favorite color is pink."
"Ennnk!" He sounded just like a wrong-answer buzzer on a game show.
"I love VW bugs."
"Yet you drive a Honda."
"Only until I win the lottery. Um...I've ridden an elephant."
"No shit. Where?"
"Zoo. I want to be a writer when I grow up."
"Ennk!"
"I think you're totally hot."
His mouth fell open.
"Last one...I adore my job."
"Ennk!"
"Wow. I'm stunned. So when you said Sergeant Brian really wouldn't mind my calling, you meant it."
He nodded again.
"And when you told Jason he was lying about stalking me, you meant that, too."
"Roger that."
I shivered and hugged myself. "I might as well come clean, then." I looked him in the eye once more. "I'm scared to death that Jason may show up, yes, but I'm even more worried that I'll never feel safe again. Is this your problem? No. Do I wish you'd pack up all your stuff and move in anyway? Yes. As if finding the perfect housemate wasn't daunting enough, I'm now worried I might open my door to a zombie or his girlfriend and not even know it. But you've got your own set of problems, and your place probably isn't the dump you say it is."
"Actually, my 'place' smells like wet dog, I have roaches older than me that dynamite wouldn't faze, and the spoon next door is a Deadhead who plays his music way too loud."
"Spoon?"
"Former military cook. So, since I can tell you're serious, I accept your invitation to share rent. And just so you know, I do not have an ulterior motive."
I sighed very dramatically. "Just my luck."
His obvious surprise told me he knew that was true. Wishing I hadn't revealed so much way too soon, I jumped up. "Then that's settled. Whew! I don't have to put up all those notices all over campus or worry that I'm making a bad choice. When are you moving in?"
"Not before we get some rest." He stood up, too, and stretched. "I don't have much stuff, but it'll still be a hassle I'm not up for at the moment."
I can't believe we're doing this.
Was i
t crazy? Yes. But not any crazier than advertising and trying to pick a renter from a pool of total strangers, especially now that I'd been attacked. At least I knew a few things about Zander, the most important ones being he'd served his country and saved my life.
"My bedroom is the one in the front of the house. You can have the other one, which is actually larger, though the bed isn't. We can share groceries or not. You pick. I believe in divvying up housework, even laundry, and won't mind if we wash our clothes together. Though I have little brothers and am familiar with guy junk, I'd rather you didn't walk around naked. I won't either, of course."
"Bummer."
I ignored that. "I'd prefer you didn't have sex with anyone while I'm here, a rule that won't apply if I'm the one you're having it with. That could get awkward really fast."
"Us having sex?"
"No, you having it with someone else and me overhearing it. I subscribe to the local paper because I'm a news junkie. You're welcome to read it first if you get up earlier than I do." I thought for a second. "I guess that's all. Unless you want to add something. It'd only be fair, after all."
His topaz eyes twinkled. "If I think of something, I'll let you know."
"Great. Perfect." I couldn't stifle my yawn. "I need to pee, and then I'm going to try to sleep. Geez. Did I really just announce that? Sorry. I'm oddly comfortable with you. Do you feel it?"
"I do, and it's nice. Say whatever's on your mind, anytime, good or bad."
"And don't bother lying because you'll know?"
"There is that."
Feeling better than I had all day, I left him in the living room. By that time it was almost five in the morning. Although a bath might've relaxed me, I didn't take one. What I did do was slip out of my work clothes, which smelled like cumin and jalapeños, and into fresh panties and a T-shirt. I went to bed, punching my pillow until it felt just right and settling in. My room was dark, thanks to mini-blinds. Outside, a chilly wind shook the panes in the window. But I slept anyway.
Zander
I stared at Riley's Stone-Age TV, but didn't even know what was playing on it. Had I really just agreed to move in with her?
