Page 124 of Say Yes to the Death

“The figure in this picture is from ancient Greece. It’s rather crudely drawn, but the resemblance is undeniable.”

“Okay,” Claire said slowly. “So, what is it?”

“This is the symbol for the Greek god Priapus.”

“Priapus.” Claire repeated. Why did that sound familiar?

“Yes. He was a fertility god. Protector of male genitalia and livestock, among other things.”

Oh. Priapus, like priapism. Jason had once gone to the emergency room with a priapism that had lasted six hours. Served him right.

“You’re sure about the symbol?”

“It’s unmistakable. I have a vase at home with the same insignia.”

“Thank you for your help, Professor Burke.” Claire shook the professor’s hand and hurried back into the hallway. She closed the door and leaned against it. The professor was still chuckling behind the door. Of course her almost-killer carved a symbol for a protector of dicks into her skin permanently. Why not?

She clenched her fists. What was she going to do with this new information? She needed some retail therapy, stat. The student store had a modest makeup selection. Maybe switching out this dreary mauve lipstick would provide clarity.

She trotted down the four flights of stairs to the lobby and pushed open the doors to the courtyard. It really was a beautiful day. She desperately wanted to pull her phone out and check her email, but Sawyer’s incessant stream of personal safety instructions echoed in her mind. She set off toward the student store.

Was it her imagination, or were those footsteps behind her? Students milled here and there, but campus population during a summer session was minuscule compared to a regular semester—maybe two hundred students max. The footsteps probably just belonged to someone heading to their dorm, but hair stood up on her arms. She stopped in her tracks and dug through her purse. Footsteps behind her continued for an extra second. Her stomach clenched. Someone was definitely following her. But how had they recognized her with the disguise? Her whole body tensed. What would Sawyer do?

She pulled earbuds out and popped them in but didn’t turn on any music. Hopefully, her mysterious stalker would think she was totally unaware of her surroundings. She pulled her phone out of her purse and pretended to check her messages while walking. She activated her front-facing camera and zoomed in behind her. There was definitely a man in a camo shirt behind her, maybe forty yards away. He was following cautiously, ducking behind trees and lampposts. He was shorter, maybe 5’8”, but jacked. His bald head shone in the afternoon sun.

Her heart thudded in her chest. Thank goodness Rosie was at the studio with Nicole today. Claire took several photos as she passed the science building, but they were grainy and poor quality. She sent them off to Mindy and Nicole before tucking her phone in her bra and pulling Taser #4 from her purse. She slid it into the side pocket of her leggings. If this idiot was toting a chloroform rag, she was going to make him choke on it.

She sped up as she approached the campus store. But the store wasn’t safe—there was only one exit. She walked straight past it and rounded the corner of campus. Where could she go? She racked her brain as she walked. The man was still behind her, keeping his distance but following intently. Should she make a break for it?

As she rounded an upperclassmen dormitory, she spotted it. The communications building. Claire had written for the student newspaper in that building, and the office had a keypad. What were the odds that they had changed the lock combination? It might be her best shot.

She glanced behind her. The man had yet to round the corner. He disappeared behind a clump of bushes, and she took her shot. She set off in a dead sprint, pounding the pavement. She was so close. A low-hanging branch slashed at her cheek and ripped her wig from her head. Bobby pins hit the sidewalk with a series of metallic tinkles. She winced but kept running.

She slammed against the doors to the building, pushing them open with so much force that they nearly banged off the wall. The newspaper office was down the hallway on the right. She sprinted down it and slid to a stop outside the door.

Oh god, were those heavy footsteps approaching the building? She stabbed the last combination she remembered into the keypad. 5926. There was a beep, and the light flashed green. She wrenched the door open and closed it behind her just as the doors to the building crashed open. The lock clicked loudly. Had he heard it? Was he coming this way? She leaned against the wall, trying to quiet her breath. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and her legs might as well have been an elaborate, fleshy Jell-O mold.

In the hallway, there was a frustrated grunt, and something shattered. Footsteps came down her hallway. Door handles rattled. Her vision pulsed with her heartbeat. Was this going to be how she died? Next to an eight-year-old PC and a crudely drawn cartoon of the school mascot making a political speech? She hadn’t had time to forgive Luke. Or have dinner with her deadbeat dad. And neither Nicole nor Mindy was really ready for the responsibility of adopting Rosie. This couldn’t be the end. She pulled the stun gun from her leggings and held it at chest height.

“Hey, it’s me,” a gruff voice said.

Oh shit, was he talking to her?

“I lost her,” the voice continued.

Claire froze. Who was he talking to?

There was silence for a few seconds, and the man sighed. His voice was young, masculine, angry. “I know, I know. I didn’t expect her to show up on campus. No, I don’t know what she was doing here.”

Her pulse raced. Claire slowly approached the door, ear turned toward the wood.

“It’s getting harder. She has a cop tailing her sometimes again. No sign of the boyfriend at least, but lately she’s been hanging around with some huge dude. He’s in private security. That’s not going to make the eradicators happy.”

Eradicators? Her heart fell into her butt. What in the actual hell was an eradicator? She pressed her ear against the crack in the door.

The voice was growing fainter. The doors to the building creaked when they swung open. Shit. She was going to lose him. This had to be one of the people who was stalking her. She unlocked the newspaper office door as quietly as possible and peeked into the hall. Her hands shook as she grasped her weapons. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security? Would the Taser be enough to bring down the giant bowling ball of a man?

Shit. A shadow was moving away from the building. There was no telling what kind of intelligence she was missing out on. She had no choice. She had to follow him.

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