Page 19 of Last Seen Alive
A handsome man, about her father’s age—ancient—got the door for her and smiled. It was an innocent expression, though, the way it softened his face and smoothed the fine lines around his eyes. He wasn’t a perv like so many men were toward her. It was a rare day she could walk down the street without being subjected to hollers and honking horns.
She went to her favorite section of the store. Fantasy. Worlds existed within these covers, born from an author’s mind, just far enough from reality to provide a real escape. And when she read, that’s exactly what she wanted. To leave her life and slip into another one.
She touched the spines of a few, her fingers drawing out one by Paul J.Bennett. His was a new name to her, but she was attracted to the cover—a woman in armor. Strong female leads were a must. And the series name, Power Ascending, sent a bit of a thrill through her. She read the blurb and, intrigued by it, opened the book and scanned the first few pages. She wanted to read the entire thing, but she hadn’t a dime to her name.
She looked down the aisle to her left. A man was browsing the shelves, absorbed in his own cares. He pulled out a few books and read their back covers but always seemed to replace them. To her right was no one.
She hugged the novel to her chest and rounded the bend. She would be leaving the store with this book one way or another. And since paying for it wasn’t an option, she’d be stealing it. She’d done it before and gotten away with it, but would she again?
Her heart pounded just thinking about the rush that came with the thought.
Usually she brought her backpack with her and expertly slipped her intended quarry inside. She’d done it three times already. But today, she’d wanted out of that house so badly she hadn’t even thought about her bag. And her attire didn’t exactly allow for much concealment. She had to consider the cameras that were likely all over the place too. Even if she tucked the book under her shirt, she’d be busted in an instant. And if not from the video surveillance, then a suspicious clerk who might notice a strange bulge under her snug shirt.
The man who had been browsing rounded the corner and smiled at her as he passed her. He was cute. Dimples so deep she could press her fingertip into them.
And she wasn’t even the boy-crazy one. That had always been Michelle.
Enough.She needed to figure out her escape. She looked back at the man. He must have settled on a few titles as he was holding a cloth shopping bag that sat heavy, the load pulling down on the handles.
Then came the spark of an idea.
She followed him through the store, careful to keep at a distance until they neared the checkout. She busied herself looking at the myriads of journals and cloth bags branded with the store’s logo by the front door. But she was more interested in keeping a close eye on the man.
Just as he was thanking the clerk, she toppled the journal display and did so in such a way that got the man involved with the mess. The scattered items blocked his path.
He bent to help her tidy up, and she was certain to look him in the eye. “Thank you so much.” She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.
“Not a problem.”
“Really, I’m such a bumbling idiot.” She bit her bottom lip. Threw in a pout. She might be young, but she knew how the world worked already—money and sex equaled power.
“No problem,” he stressed, smiling and flashing those dimples. He was flattered she was interested in him; her plan was working.
The clerk joined them in cleaning up too, and with them both distracted she slid her book into a new bag and continued to return items to the rack.
The clerk was just happy that the shelves were restored to their former glory and returned to her post. The man held the door for her on the way out.
She held her prize—the coveted book in a new bag—as she rode her bike for the nearest park. She had her reading spot picked out. It was her favorite place near the Potomac River, under the shade of a willow tree. She settled there, her back against the trunk, and cracked open the cover.
“Is it any good?” A man’s voice, and it had her turning around.
The man from the bookstore. She shot to her feet. “It’s not what it… It isn’t what it looks like.” She nudged out her chin defiantly.
“Quite the impressive stunt you pulled back there.”
She scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You stole that.” He pointed to the book she held; her finger was inserted between the pages so as not to lose her spot.
“I did no such thing.”
He smiled, his blasted dimples showing again.
“So what if I did? What are you going to do about it? You a cop or something?”
He laughed, and her heart skipped off rhythm at the sound. She’d had her share of crushes, but this one felt different. He was older than her, by at least five years. He’d be experienced and know how to treat her, how to touch her. She warmed as her thoughts took a sexual turn. She hadn’t even been with a boy yet. Nothing past third base anyway. This guy could bethe one.
“So you’re not a cop.” She rushed now to fill the growing silence.
