Recalled (Death Escorts #1)(16)
Author: Cambria Hebert

As I leaned back into my seat, something caught my eye. Something red. I ducked down, thinking maybe they’d seen me after all and her friend in the red coat was coming after me. But after long minutes of no one appearing beside my car, I rose, peeking over the dashboard to look across the parking lot.

He was there. Walking among everyone else. But he was different.

Why did no one notice? Why did no one turn to stare?

The guy was completely surrounded in red, almost as if the very air around his body had been stained with the bright color.

He had his hands stuffed into a black coat, a hat on his head, and his chin tucked into his chest. I guess he looked pretty ordinary, if you didn’t count the flaming ring of color. I watched him for long moments; I watched the people around him. He didn’t speak to anyone and no one spoke to him. No one paid him any attention at all. It was like he was just another student hurrying to class. I blinked my eyes, thinking they were playing tricks on me. But no matter how hard I blinked, the red was still there.

I watched him until he was completely out of sight, and then I noticed my hands were still shaking and I still felt sick. I swallowed, turning on the car, and with one last glimpse where the man had been, I pulled away. I drove slowly, staring at everyone through the windshield, watching for someone or something else bathed in red. But everything looked normal. When I turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road, the cramping in my stomach loosened and my shaking hands began to steady.

What was wrong with me? Was I going crazy? Or could the nagging feeling, my illness, and now my eyes playing tricks on me be linked to Piper? Or was it something else? What if it was this body? Maybe it was somehow rejecting me. I didn’t know if it was possible, but after everything I’d experienced since I died, it wasn’t that far of a stretch.

Chapter Fourteen

“News – interesting or important information not previously known or realized.”

Piper

“Tell me already,” I begged Frankie as I sipped the hot tea, into which she dumped half a bottle of honey.

“Not until you promise me that what I saw back there wasn’t you having some kind of psychotic break.”

“Said the girl with a piece of pie, a cinnamon roll, and a caramel coffee sitting in front of her.”

“Hey, there’s a salad too. Didn’t you see my salad?” She pointed to the lettuce and carrots covered in dressing being ignored in favor of the cinnamon roll. “Besides, the craziest people I know are the ones who don’t eat sugar.” She stared pointedly at me.

I saluted her with my cup full of honey.

“I just want to be sure you’re okay,” she said seriously.

“I am. Really. I just thought I saw something that wasn’t there.” I sighed. “It’s just been a long few days. I’ve been waiting desperately to hear what you would find out.”

I hoped the reminder would finally get her to spill the beans about what she learned about the guy from the diner.

“You eat; I talk,” she said, pointing to my turkey on wheat. I dutifully took a bite and she dug out a slip of paper from the pocket of her coat hanging on the back of her chair.

“You probably aren’t going to like what I’m about to tell you,”

“He’s married,” I said, a hard knot forming in my stomach.

Frankie looked at me strangely. “I find it very telling that the worst news you could get from me is that this guy is married. I think you’re interested in him more than just because of”—she wagged her eyebrows and leaned in—“you know.”

I just stared at her. She sighed dramatically. “Because of your vision.”

I leaned in and whispered, “Yes, I know.” Then I straightened. “And I am not interested in him that way. I’m not interested in men that way at all right now. I’m too busy with school and trying to get my life together.” I didn’t want to live in a tiny apartment in the worst part of town all my life and since I had no family to help me, giving myself a better life was solely on me.

“Then why do you care if he’s married?”

I really didn’t have an answer for that.

“Just give me the paper already,” I said, flustered, and snatched it out of her hand.

I looked down at it, then back up at her. “Dexter Allen Roth.” I read and then looked back up.

Frankie nodded sagely. “I told you it wasn’t good.”

I burst out laughing. “It’s not that bad.”

Dexter Allen Roth. So that was his name.

“Only a girl with a massive crush would think that name was anything but a mouthful.”

I suppressed a smile and looked at the paper in my hand again. “Is this his address?”

“Assuming that’s really his car and his name…,” Frankie said, sipping her latte.

“You think the car is stolen.” I said, flat.

Frankie sighed. “I did, but I checked the stolen car list we have. None match that make or model.”

“The address is in a nice neighborhood,” I said.

Frankie nodded. “Yeah, maybe the guy is loaded.”

“I don’t care how much money he has,” I said, still looking at the address.

“Yeah, I know,” Frankie said, setting her coffee down. “So what are you gonna do with that information?”

I thought about that as I gathered up my tray and cup. “I’m going to go see him.”

“You’re going to just knock on his door?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

“You got guts.” Frankie grinned, but then the grin fell away. “I just hope he isn’t some weird car-stealing stalker,” she replied as we threw all our trash away.

My eyes wandered toward the stairs and toward the tapestry where I could’ve sworn I saw someone. Then I thought about the figure I saw hurrying away from the building. It could’ve been a student rushing to class.

It could have been someone else.

I really hoped Frankie wasn’t right.

Chapter Fifteen

“Anaphylactic shock – a severe, sometimes fatal, reaction to a substance to which a person has an extreme sensitivity, often involving respiratory difficulty and circulation failure.”

Dex

I looked up “ways to die” on the internet. I didn’t find any ways to possibly kill a Target, but I did learn I wasn’t the stupidest guy on the planet. Apparently there was a waiting list for that and it was very, very long. According to one site, one of the manliest ways to die was by lighting yourself on fire. It seemed to me the manliest way to die would be to not die at all. Self-preservation is a lot harder than most people realize. Probably because more people live closer to the way I do now than the way I did before I died.