Page 14 of SapphicLover69
“You should go talk to her,” I suggested. “She’s so excited about seeing the haunted places.”
“Yeah, I will.”
“So, sci-fi.” Nan wedged herself between Winter and me to talk to her. It made me feel better to no longer be the sole focus of their admiration.
Soon Demi and Nan moved on to Elaine, who seemed delighted with the attention, while the broody third wheel trudged along behind staring holes in me.Could she be SapphicLover69? She hasn’t volunteered any information—not even her name—and she keeps giving me hateful looks.Thinking about it added to my unease. I glanced over my shoulder. She was still there, pacing along, not saying a word, like a sticky seed that you can’t get off your pants, socks, or shoelaces. I tried to shake off my suspicions and enjoy the picturesque architecture with wrought-iron railings around balconies bursting with pots of flowering plants.
We had just arrived at Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop when I caught a shadowy figure out of the corner of my eye. Stories about specters stuck here after the 1812 Battle of New Orleans and chilling horrors perpetrated by long-dead slave owners were still fresh in my mind, and several of the tourists were comparing orb photos when the hairs on the back of my neck rose. A macabre sense of dread knotted in my stomach, and I scanned the area, straining to perceive something substantial.
The prickling sensation wasn’t from a freak chill in the stifling air. Then I saw someone dash by, a person dressed in black who had been watching me—I knew it. Observing me from the shadows, creeping and prowling about. It could be a wino, but how could one move so fast? A pickpocket hoping to make off with tourists’ wallets? Maybe. Why did I think this culprit was targeting me? Nerves? The atmosphere? The ghost stories?
I stepped a few feet away from the group while the guide recounted the tale of how the pirate Jean Lafitte haunted the building that was now a bar. Bourbon Street was jammed with pedestrians, and police officers hung out on every corner. I craned my neck to where the lone figure, amidst the bustling crowd, had captured my attention. There she was—yes, a female with long, dark hair dangling over part of her face. Her onevisible eye stared right at me and my heart began to pound. A muscle in my arm twitched, and the trickle of sweat escalated into a river.
What should I do? This could be SapphicLover69. She’s been skulking around since last night, always taking off once I caught her looking at me.
This whole bizarre affair was driving me crazy. I had to know who she was, why she was following me, and get this stalker business over with. Tons of witnesses and the police milled about, so I should be able to confront her without getting stabbed.
Stabbed. Does she want to kill me?A jolt of fright rushed through my nerves as I considered how far the deranged offender aimed to go. Did she just want to ruin my reputation, or perpetrate something more sinister?
I couldn’t remain trapped in the mire of indecision for long, or she’d bolt again. Sensing a protective presence nearby, I glanced over my shoulder to see Tammy, eyes keen and jaw set.
“Did you see something, someone?” she asked in a serious tone.
“I think it could be her,” I answered with a slight nod in the shady stranger’s direction.
In an instant, Tammy took off like an Olympic sprinter, weaving through the merrymakers to the sound of Dixieland Jazz spilling out of a nearby establishment. I raced after her.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” rang Winter’s worried voice behind me. If this woman was out to get me, if she had a knife, I didn’t want sweet little Winter anywhere nearby, so I just kept running without granting a response.
We were three blocks down and in the murky negligence of a side street by the time I caught up with them. Tammy had the dark-haired woman by the collar interrogating her when I skidded to a halt, leaning my hands on my knees to pant. Tammymay have been in her fifties, but, man, could she run! And now her intimidating stance had reduced a quivering, young woman to tears.
“Hold on,” I said between labored breaths. “Let me talk to her.”
Tammy loosened her grip but didn’t let go as she scowled at someone much smaller and younger than she was. As I neared them, it became apparent the gal spying on me might not even be old enough to call a woman at all. My brow furrowed in concern.
I laid a hand over Tammy’s, coaxing her to release the girl’s shirt. From the look of her, I’d guess she was Hispanic and maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. “Hi,” I spoke in a gentle, non-threatening tone. The terror that had gripped me earlier evaporated. Maybe it had been the oppressive energy from haunted places after all. Tammy took a step back but blocked the girl’s escape by smacking fists on her hips.
“Why have you been spying on me?”
She sniffed, frowned, wiped a hand under her eye, and shrugged.
“Don’t give us that ‘I’m so innocent’ crap,” Tammy thundered. “Are you Aspen’s stalker? Do you like to use the handle SapphicLover69?”
Tammy was sweet, protective like a bulldog, and about as subtle as one too. However, I detected honest alarm in the girl’s expression as her eyes widened and she sucked in a nervous breath.
“Who? What? I don’t know any sapphic lover, and I sure wasn’t born in ‘69.”
I had never thought my enemy was born in 1969—more like the sexual position reference.
“OK, say we believe you,” Tammy said, giving her a suspicious side-eye. “Then why have you been following Aspen and running off? That doesn’t seem so harmless to me.”
The girl wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against a dingy, brick wall. This street smelled like urine and rotten rubbish that overflowed from a dented, rusty dumpster. Doors and windows were barred, and a clunker parked along the curb had a flat tire. It occurred to me this wasn’t an alley I wished to linger in.
“I’m not out, OK?” she scowled. “I don’t want people to see me.”
“Where do you live?” I asked. “Do your parents know you’re in the French Quarter alone at nine at night?”
She shrugged. “My mom works late. I thought I wanted to meet you until I found out you were thugs.” She kicked at a bottle cap on the broken sidewalk.
