How Perfect You Are (Carlson College Mysteries Book 1)

by Isabel Fox

  “Do you think someone could be in the tree?” I asked Amber. “My window’s so high up. I don’t know how you could see in unless you were in the tree.”

  “Maybe, but the branches start pretty far off the ground. It would be hard to climb without a ladder or something,” Amber trailed off, her gaze darting nervously around the yard. James had since disappeared from view. The yard was quiet, and though we saw occasional flashes from the beam of James’s flashlight there was no other movement out there.

  A tense five minutes passed, and then another five. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the porch startled us. We both leapt off the couch, but seconds later James appeared in the window, waving for us to unlock the door.

  “God, it’s cold out there,” James shivered, switching off the flashlight as he stepped inside. “I didn’t see anything,” he added quickly as he sat down on the couch, taking note of my anxious look.

  “What about the oak tree?” I asked. “Do you think someone could have been in it?”

  “Probably not. The lowest branches start several feet over my head. It would be hard to get up there. Besides, enough of the leaves have fallen that it would have been fairly easy to see if someone was hiding up there.”

  “Then how could he know?” I asked, exasperated. “How did he know I’d gone to bed?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you guys know the neighbors well? Could it be anyone in any of the houses nearby?”

  “The only one close enough to have a view of my window is Mrs. Johanson across the road. She’s like ninety. Her daughter lives with her. They seem like unlikely candidates,” I explained.

  “What exactly did the message say?” Amber asked. I took out my phone and opened the last message to show her again. James peered over my shoulder as well.

  “Well, it is possible that whoever it is didn’t know for sure that you were in bed. The message doesn’t say anything specific about seeing you. It could have been a lucky guess. It’s after midnight, so it’s pretty reasonable to assume most people are either already asleep or will be soon,” James pointed out.

  I immediately felt dumb that this hadn’t occurred to me. I had instantly leaped to the most dramatic conclusion. I had been positive that someone was watching me. Maybe all of this was getting to me more than I had realized.

  “Did you reply? To the text, I mean?” Amber asked. I shook my head.

  “No. Officer Gonzalez said I should ignore them, remember? He said that when they see that what they’re doing doesn’t get any kind of response from me maybe they’ll get the hint and stop.”

  “Well, sending James out on a manhunt in the middle of the night probably counts as a response, so I if they were watching I don’t know that they’ll get the hint,” Amber replied acidly.

  James grumbled under his breath. He ran a hand across his dark hair. “At any rate, I don’t think anyone’s out there now. I’ll stay up for awhile just in case, but you two should try and get some sleep.”

  “As if,” I laughed weekly. Though I was exhausted, my brain was far too wired to even contemplate sleeping. Begrudgingly, though, I headed back to bed.

  For several hours I tossed and turned, alternating between a light doze and being fully awake. My brain continued spinning. I ran through a mental list of everyone I knew, wondering if they could be the one who was obsessed with me.

  Childhood friends, high school acquaintances, college classmates, friends of my grandmother, coworkers, nothing fit. I didn’t have a ton of “in between” friends. Pretty much everyone I knew was either someone I was either close friends with or at least talked to fairly regularly at work or in class, or else was someone that I hadn’t spoken to since I was approximately 12, like my great aunt Irma.

  I obsessively read and reread the text messages from Unknown, as I had started to think of him in my head, looking for any hint of who he could be. There wasn’t a single thing in the messages that gave me anything to go off of. Disappointed in my lack of sleuthing skills, I briefly cursed myself for not reading more Nancy Drew as a child before finally falling into a fitful sleep.

  14

  I found myself eternally grateful the next morning when I didn’t have class until 11 am. After a grand total of four hours of sleep, I shuffled downstairs around 9:30. I was surprised to see James was still there, though there was no sign of Amber.

  “Good morning!” James said in an annoyingly well rested voice. He gestured for me to have a seat at the kitchen table and I complied, blinking at him confusedly.

  “Why are you here?” I asked stupidly. “That is, why are you still here? Don’t you have class, or work, or something?”

  “My first class was cancelled, and I traded shifts at the legal aid center with a buddy of mine,” James explained while pouring coffee into the largest mug in the cabinet, then passing it to me.

  “I almost never get the kind of classes that get cancelled,” I whined. “I can’t skip the worst one, either, because my stupid geology professor even takes attendance every freaking time.”

  “I have a feeling you would still go without the motivation of an attendance policy,” James pointed out. “Are you hungry?”

  The non sequitur threw me. “Sorry, am I what?”

  “Hungry. Food. You want?” James mimed eating something with his hands, and I laughed.

  “Sorry. I’m a little out of it, I guess. And I usually just have a granola bar or banana or something for breakfast, or else skip it all together.”

  “But breakfast is the most important meal of the day!” James gasped in mock horror as I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah. You know what else is important? Sleep. I didn’t get much of that, either,” I retorted crabbily.

  “Ah, yes. My sister is well versed in the necessity of sleep. Still at it, in fact. Doesn’t she have a morning class on Tuesdays she should be at?”

  “I think so? I don’t know, I’m pretty sure none of her art professors care that much when she’s there, so she usually spends all afternoon at the studio when she doesn’t have work.”

  “I had no idea Carlson’s art program was so lenient,” James sipped his coffee, then began rooting around in the refrigerator. He extracted a carton of eggs, cheese, bacon, and a pepper on its last legs.

  “Uh, what are you making?” I watched with idle curiosity.

  “Omelettes! Do you want one, or is breakfast not important even when you have time?”

  “No, I’ll take one,” I answered quickly. James got to work, expertly beating the eggs and pouring them into a hot skillet. I watched in admiration as he turned the omelette with a quick flick of the pan, a trick I had never managed without sending most of the eggs onto the eye of the stove. Before long, James had presented me with one of the prettiest omelettes I had ever seen.

  “Wow. I didn’t realize you could cook,” I commented.

  “I don’t know that omelettes count as cooking, exactly,” James pointed out. “But if they do, then yes, I can cook. I also grill pretty well, if I do say so myself.”

  “Too bad we don’t have a grill,” I replied. “There was one in the backyard when we moved in, but it was more rust than anything. Since we figured no one wants a side of tetanus with their burger, we got rid of it.”

  “I have a grill. Chris and I managed to wedge one out on our balcony,” James said, referring to his roommate. “One day soon I’ll have to grill for you. The best steak you’ve ever tasted, I promise.”

  “How can I say no to that?” I laughed. “That sounds fun. We could do like a big cookout or something.”

  “Yeah, or something,” James repeated, then took an abrupt sip of his coffee. He seemed to be almost laughing, but then the moment passed. Not sure if I had imagined the whole thing or if my spacey brain had misinterpreted the situation, I compensated for my awkwardness by taking a massive bite of my omelette.

  “This,” I proclaimed, “is fabulous.”

  “Glad you think so,” James said as he deftly shook some pepper ov
er his own plate before offering it to me. I accepted, and for a moment we both ate in silence.

  “So what’s on your agenda today?” James asked politely.

  “Besides class, mainly finishing up midterm stuff and studying for said midterms. I’m pretty much done, but I still have a couple of loose ends to tie up before I submit everything. I don’t work today, thank god. I can barely handle Susan when I’m well rested, let alone when I’m sleep deprived.”

  “Well, at Amber’s request I was planning on staying again tonight, you know, just in case. If you’re really nice, maybe you can even convince me to cook dinner,” James suggested.

  “Uh, yes, please! That sounds like a great idea. Jenna and Brooklyn usually come over on Tuesdays, too. We always watch our show together. Do you mind having a few extra mouths to feed?” I asked.

  “Not at all. The more the merrier,” James said agreeably. Finishing my omelette, I took my plate to the sink and washed it.

  “You know,” I said while idly rinsing the suds off the plate, “what you’re doing, it’s really nice of you.”

  “What I’m doing?” James repeated, sounding confused.

  “Staying here with us. Making breakfast. Offering to cook dinner. It’s all really nice of you. I know babysitting your sister and her best friend is probably not how you want to spend your time. But I really appreciate it,” I explained, setting the plate gently on the drying rack by the sink.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure thing,” James replied after an awkwardly long pause. I glanced up and saw that he was looking at me with another strange look. I instantly felt uncomfortable, wondering if I had said something wrong.

  “Oh, shit, look at the time,” I said suddenly, catching sight of the clock on the microwave. “I’ve got to get going. Thanks for breakfast, I’ll see you later!” I said as I hurried to collect my bag.

  “Bye, Cassie,” I heard James call as I was already halfway out the door.

  On campus, my political science class flew by and I was left with my usual two and a half hour gap between class. My custom was to head to the college gym and crank out a few miles on the treadmill or elliptical. Today, however, I was determined to finish my work for midterms before I left campus for the day. I had two papers and one group project to work on. My group had elected to do our project as a slideshow, and I had already entered my portion of the work. I just needed to review it and let my group members know I was finished. The papers were all but done as well. I just felt like they needed a little polishing before I actually submitted them.

  A sudden rainstorm had blown in, and everyone who would normally be outside enjoying the commons had retreated indoors. I made my way through the crowd to Guava Java and got a large cup of coffee before turning to scan the crowded shop. I didn’t see any vacant tables or chairs anywhere, and I was just about to go back out in the student union in search of a good place to settle down when I heard my name.

  “Cassie! Over here!”

  Turning, I saw Drew, my coworker, at a table with another guy and two empty chairs. I gratefully made my way over to them.

  “Hey! Need a seat?” Drew asked, gesturing at the empty chairs.

  “That would be awesome,” I answered, lowering myself into one gratefully. “I’ve got a ton I need to do, and I really didn’t want to have to hike over to the library in this weather.”

  “This is my roommate Ashton, by the way,” Drew nodded to his companion, a tall but slender blond. He smiled broadly at me.

  “Hi. This is the Cassie you work with?” he asked Drew, who laughed.

  “Well, work with might not be the right word. Cassie’s kind of in a league of her own when it comes to hospitality management,” Drew said. I rolled my eyes at the compliment.

  “Drew exaggerates. I’ve just worked in the same place entirely too long,” I said. I reached in my bag and pulled out my laptop, which had mercifully remained safe and dry.

  “Midterms?” Drew asked as I booted up my laptop and hauled my English notes and Wuthering Heights out of my bag.

  “Yeah, a paper that counts for an exam grade,” I replied. “On Wuthering Heights, of all things.”

  “Oh, are you not a fan?” Ashton asked. “I read it for a class last year. I kind of liked it.”

  “I remember you reading it at work last week.,” Drew added. “You seemed kind of passionate about it, actually.”

  “I passionately hate it, maybe,” I laughed. “At least this is the last thing I have to do with it, and then I can hopefully burn it and never have to think about it again.”

  “Well, I’ll let you get on with it, then,” Drew smiled. “The sooner you get started, the sooner you can finish.”

  For the next half hour Drew, Ashton, and I worked in mostly silence, with one of us occasionally voicing frustrations or questions aloud. I discovered Ashton was quite handy with computers when he helped me fix the wonky formatting on my paper multiple times.

  “There!” I exclaimed as I ran a final spell check. “Done!”

  “Awesome!” Drew said. “I wish I was done with my English paper. I’m not much of a writer.”

  “If you want, I’ll proof read it for you when you finish,” I offered, feeling generous now that a major task had been checked off my to-do list.

  “Thanks, but it might be awhile,” Drew sighed. “I’m not the fastest writer. Also, the number of mistakes I’m sure you’d find might be a little embarrassing.”

  “Dude, that’s probably all the more reason to take her up on it. Didn’t you pretty much fail your last paper?” Ashton pointed out rather bluntly.

  Drew’s face flushed furiously. “No! I mean, yes, but it’s...not-” he broke off and took a deep breath before starting again. “Yes, I got a 60 on my last paper. But I just had a really rough week. It’s not going to happen again,” he said, still clearly embarrassed.

  I felt a little awkward, as Drew was making it a point to look everywhere but at me and Ashton was watching him with a faintly amused look. I cast my mind around, trying to find the best way to steer things back to neutral territory.

  Luckily, Jenna picked that moment to pop up next to me. She quickly sat at the remaining chair and scooted in. She shed her still dripping raincoat and gave her dark curls a shake. Then she gave Drew and Ashton a brief, friendly wave before turning her attention back to me.

  “Where have you been? I was expecting, like, 1,000 texts from you at this point!” Jenna exclaimed.

  “You...you have?” I asked, surprised. I still hadn’t told Jenna or Brooklyn about the insanity of the previous day, having decided to wait until later tonight when they both typically dropped by to watch our favorite medical drama over dinner. I supposed it was possible Amber had already let something slip, though.

  “Yes! Are you not dying to know what Robby thought of you?” she practically squealed. I caught Drew and Ashton giving each other a side glance that seemed to say, “Who is this crazy chick?”

  “Well, I’ll be honest, I haven’t exactly been waiting on tenterhooks,” I confessed. “Drew, Ashton, this is my friend Jenna.”

  “Oh, hey,” Jenna seemed to suddenly realize that the boys were staring at us, mouths slightly open. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge right into your, uh, study session?” she asked, looking at me.

  “Kind of. Just getting some midterm work done. How about you tell me all about Robby tonight? You and Brooklyn are still coming over?”

  “Yeah, sure. Okay, I’ve gotta go. Catch you later!” Jenna gave one final smile to the everyone and then was off as quickly as she had arrived.

  It was silent for a minute until Drew, his voice curious, asked, “So, who’s Robby?”

  I waved my hand dismissively. “No one. Just some guy Jenna’s friends with,” I explained, paging back through my essay to make sure it looked okay.

  “So…”Ashton began, trailing off until I glanced up. “If Drew doesn’t take you up on your offer to do some editing, do you think maybe I could? I’m not the best with corre
ct grammar and citations and all that jazz. I’ve got a paper for my US History class I’d love to have you glance over if you’ve got the time.”

  “Sure,” I replied with a shrug. “Just email it to me. Here,” I reached in my bag and tore off a scrap of paper from my binder. I jotted my email address and phone number down and passed it to him.

  “Thanks. I’m not quite done yet, but I should be by this evening.”

  “Thank you for your help, too,” I said, slowly standing up from the table and stretching my arms above my head. “Are you working tomorrow?” I asked Drew as I gathered my bag. He usually worked Wednesday afternoons with me, but with break beginning the next day it could be possible we’d be a little short staffed.

  “No, I’m planning to head home after my last exam,” Drew replied. “But I’m coming back Sunday and working then.”

  “Awesome! I’ll be there all weekend, as usual. Well, if I don’t see you before Sunday, have a good break.”

  “Thanks, Cassie. You too.”

  “Bye! I’ll email you that paper later,” Ashton added as I headed away from the table. I waved my hand to acknowledge I had heard him. Pulling my raincoat back on and putting up the hood, I braced myself for the chilly downpour and headed out into the rain.

  15

  Later that afternoon, when I was thoroughly drenched, frozen, and wishing desperately that I hadn’t chosen Latin as my foreign language after having spent close to an hour discussing noun declensions, I stumbled in the front door of the house.

  I peeled off my rain boots and left them, along with my dripping coat, by the front door to avoid tracking water everywhere. I was halfway to the stairs when I paused and remembered I should probably check to see if anything was amiss before stripping my wet clothes off and soaking in a hot bath until the marrow in my bones boiled.

  A quick glance around the living room revealed nothing immediately wrong. They same was true of the kitchen, where I found Willow sitting expectantly by her food bowl. I tossed her a few cat treats before heading upstairs. I took a quick glance in Amber’s room and the bathroom before grabbing a clean, dry outfit from my room.