The One That Got Away

 

Zo? stared blankly into the mall from her seat at the information kiosk. Shoppers passed back and forth across her field of vision, but she barely noticed them. A single, recurring thought played across her mind—He’s out there. It was the same thought that had kept her awake all night and preoccupied her throughout her shift at the mall. She’d always known the man who’d abducted her and Holli was out there somewhere, but she’d never known where. He existed in the formless shape that was someplace. But last night had changed everything. He was in the Bay Area. She was within his grasp again. It had taken her a long time to lose that feeling, but now it was back. She ran a hand over the gooseflesh on her arms. It had been a near permanent feature since the cops had released her and the enormity of the situation had sunk in.

 

Jeff Hall, her fellow security guard, said something that jerked her from her thoughts. “What did you say?”

 

Jeff tapped his watch. “Time to make a sweep. You want to take it?”

 

It was the first thing he’d said to her in an hour, which was fine by her. She hadn’t wanted conversation, and Jeff was good for that. He possessed the personality of a pet rock and was half as talkative. Normally his silence irritated her, but today it made him the perfect partner.

 

Zo? glanced at her own watch. Just thirty minutes until her shift ended. By the time she finished the patrol, it would be time to knock off.

 

“Sure. I’ll do it.”

 

She slid from her stool and made the pretense of conducting a sweep of the mall. She walked the upper and lower concourses and wandered through the stores. Her presence was enough to provide security for people who looked for it and to spook anyone who was loitering.

 

Questions filled her head as she patrolled. Why was her abductor here? Had he come looking for her? Did he know where she lived? She couldn’t come up with answers. He could be in the Bay Area to finish what he’d started, but she’d moved since escaping him. Her rented apartment was in her parents’ name because she had needed them as guarantors on the lease. And if he’d wanted to finish what he’d started, why had he left it so long? Wouldn’t he have tracked her down as soon as she escaped? Why wait? It had to be merely coincidence. Coincidence—the word crumbled and fell apart as soon as she assembled it in her mind. The raw truth of the matter was that he was close. How close didn’t matter, she just needed to protect herself against the possibility of another attack.

 

Just as she was coming to the end of her sweep, a small woman, no more than thirty, moved in from Zo?’s right to block her path.

 

“Hi,” the woman said with a smile. “I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for the Starbucks. Could you point me in the right direction?”

 

Zo? didn’t want to. She was off the clock, and the staff locker rooms were just fifty yards away. In there, she didn’t have to be helpful, break up fights, or stop thieves. In there, she wasn’t beholden to anyone but herself. But as much as she didn’t want to, it was her job.

 

“Sure,” Zo? said, forcing a smile. “You want the next level up.” She pointed in the direction of the coffeehouse. “You see the Claire’s? Turn left there.”

 

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

 

“No problem,” Zo? said and sidestepped the woman, but she grabbed her arm.

 

“You’re Zo? Sutton, aren’t you?”

 

Zo? didn’t recognize the woman and just stared at her in silence.

 

“You were at the crime scene at Pier 25 last night. You claimed you know the killer.”

 

Zo? looked down at the small hand grasping her upper arm. Despite the light grip, it held her securely to the spot. “What?”

 

“I’m Lara Finz from the Chronicle. I wonder if we could talk?” She increased the wattage of her smile. “I’ll buy you a coffee.”

 

Fear knifed through her. It wasn’t Lara Finz that frightened her. It was how easily this reporter had tracked her down at her job. If she could do it, he could do it.

 

Zo? backed up a step, jerking her arm free. “Stay the hell away from me.”

 

“Look, Zo?, I just want to get your side of the story.”

 

“I don’t have a story.” Zo? recognized the note of panic in her voice. She hated the sound of her own vulnerability.

 

“You do, and I want to get it out there.”

 

Zo? continued to back away.

 

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