21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (7 page)

Abbie
turned to him. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes. I lost my notes for the paper you
assigned us.”

“Interesting.”
He folded his hands together on top the desk. She thought of Miss Larson’s
impression again and smiled. The professor gestured to the seat by his desk.

“What
was the topic again?” Abbie asked as she sat down.

“Were
you not paying attention in class?”

She
wasn’t sure how to answer, and decided to come clean. “I know you said I was
really smart and you expect big things from me, but it’s my twenty-first
birthday tomorrow and I was thinking about that and all and… I’m sorry.”

“Interesting,”
he said again. Then picked up some papers and handed them to her. Abbie saw
that it was a case study.
A stapled, twelve page outline of
some college social experiment.

“To
test whether revenge actually makes the victim feel better,” he said, flipping
through his own copy of the case study, “a psychology professor at Colgate
University set-up a group investment game with his students.”

“I
remember you talking about that yesterday.” She looked up from the paper in her
hands. He nodded at her.

“And
do you remember their findings?”

Abbie
shook her head. The Professor continued.

“People who have
been hurt or betrayed hold fast to a belief that if the offender suffers, they
will feel better.” He put down his paper, looking at her. “They believe it will
relieve their emotional pain. But is that true?”

Abbie’s
phone dinged, interrupting the professor. He stopped talking and glanced at
her. Phones were strictly forbidden in his presence—office or classroom. Abbie
gave an
embarrassed
smile then fished her phone from
her purse.

“I’ll
just turn this off.” She pressed the button to mute the ringer while at the
same time glancing at the screen. It was a text message from McKenzie Thomas.
Abbie set her phone face-down on the desk as the Professor finished his lecture.

Twenty
minutes later, Abbie left his office holding the twelve page case study in one
hand, and her phone in the other.
 
She
read the text message as she walked through the crowded hallway.
 

It
was from McKenzie Thomas. Abbie typed a response and hit SEND. A moment later,
her phone chirped with a new incoming text message.

Chapter 8

A
t best, Abbie felt marginally excited to see McKenzie Thomas again.
Still, a birthday lunch at SoGo Sushi couldn’t be all bad. The little
restaurant had a contemporary décor with neon-lit aquariums and stainless steel
tables. A glass bar lined the back wall with the itamae serving guests behind a
glass case. Japanese folk music beat softly through the room.

Abbie was seated at a table for two. She
turned to the waiter and said, “I’m expecting another party, but do you mind bringing
out two glasses of water.”

She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter
past eleven. Sighing, Abbie stared out the front window. The sidewalk looked
crowded with groups of pedestrians walking past. Cars idled on the street,
waiting for the light to change. When it did, they rolled past and Abbie could
see the sidewalk on the other side.

Suddenly, impossibly, she saw him.
Brown hat and trench coat.
He just stood there, across the
street at the curb, absolutely still, facing her direction. Was he watching
her? Abbie couldn’t see his face, hidden in the shadow of a low slung hat, but
she could feel the heavy weight of his stare.

Gasping, she nearly fell out of her chair.
She was about to get up
from the table and run outside after him when a voice from behind shouted, “Bookworm!”

McKenzie
Thomas, wearing an Earl Gray skirt with a floral top—and a light blue ribbon in
her red hair—stood behind Abbie with her arms raised.
 
“I can’t believe it.”

“McKenzie?”
Abbie glanced at her,
then
looked back toward the front
window. Traffic had built up again, waiting for the light to change. She
couldn’t see across the street.

“Come
here, Bookworm,” McKenzie said. “Let me get a look at you. You haven’t changed
a bit.”

“Neither
have you. How’ve you been?” Getting up from the table, Abbie gave McKenzie an
awkward hug. Her eyes remained focused on the front windows. Cars moved
forward, revealing the sidewalk across the street. People walked past the
window. A woman jogged to the intersection. But the tan trench coat and brown
hat was gone. She looked back at McKenzie.

“Peachy.
Just peachy,” McKenzie said. “When your
grandmother told my grandmother that you were going to college in Tampa, I just
had to look you up.”

“Yeah,
Clinton Reed said you ca—”

McKenzie
sat down without letting Abbie finish. “How is he doing? How’s he holding up?”

Abbie
took her seat at the table. “He’s doing fi—”

“And your grandparents?
Why I haven’t seen them
since I don’t know when?”

“I
know. It’s been—”

“Too long.
Just too long.”
McKenzie reached over the table and touched the unicorn pendant hanging from
Abbie’s necklace. “You’re still wearing your sister’s necklace.”

Abbie
grasped the pendant away from her. “It’s all I have left of her.”

McKenzie
inhaled
deeply,
as if there was something she wanted
to say but was holding her tongue. Then the features of her face softened and
she smiled. “I just can’t believe we’re seeing each other again after, what?
How many years?”

“Oh,
I think it’s been about two years or so.”Abbie glanced out the window again.
The man was definitely gone. She looked back at McKenzie. The light blue ribbon
held back a wave of fiery red hair.

“Do
you know how many times I tried to find you on Facebook?”

“Clinton
Reed never let me sign-up for—”

“And
it’s your birthday too.” McKenzie’s voice rose above the clatter and hum in the
busy restaurant.
  

“Well,
it’s actually –”

McKenzie
clapped her hands together. “It’s your twenty-first birthday, is what it is. Do
you know what a big deal that is?”

“My
birthday is actu—”

“You
only turn twenty-one once. That’s an important event in a gal’s life. It only
comes around once in a lifetime.”

“Yes,
well. Technically my birthday—”

“Have
you had a drink yet?”

“Of course not.”

“Well,
what are you waiting for?” McKenzie dramatically brought her hands to her chest
and gushed. “Let’s order something fun and intoxicating.”

“But
I’m not actually turning twent—”

“Let’s
order a bottle of sake. I’m buying.”

“But
I can’t actually dri—”

“Oh,
I almost forgot! You will not believe what happened to me.” McKenzie held up
her hand to reveal a large diamond ring. “I’m getting married. Isn’t that ring
to die for? And I’ve got to tell you all about Rocky. He is the most handsome,
generous, dynamic man I have ever laid my eyes upon. I tell you, I am not
lying. The man is—” McKenzie seemed to be searching for the most colorful
adjectives
. But before Abbie
could respond, McKenzie’s attention turned toward the restaurant door. “
Oh,
look, there he is!”

McKenzie stood and waved. Abbie turned to
watch a young man with thick rimmed glasses nod and cross the crowded
restaurant.

“Rocky!
You made it,” McKenzie said as he came to the table.
He had dark wavy hair atop a long, oval head, with a
thin, lanky frame in a white, starched shirt and bright green tie. He was well
over six foot, Abbie noticed, and she knew immediately she had seen him before.
He’d been sitting in Dr. Wachowski’s waiting room.
 
She was sure of it.

“Rocky,
I was just telling Abbie here – oh! I haven’t introduced you yet.” McKenzie
squealed and waved her arms as she spoke. “Rocky, this is Abbie Reed, my oldest
and dearest friend on the planet. And Abbie, this is Rocky Stern, the love of
my life.”

Abbie
stood and extended a hand. “I think we met.”

He
briefly took her hand then kissed McKenzie on the cheek. Taking a chair from
another table, he plopped down in it and picked-up a menu. He never really
acknowledged Abbie or that she had just said they’d met before. Instead, he put
down the menu, removed his smudged glasses and wiped the lenses with his
tie.
 
He
was definitely the guy from the waiting room
, Abbie thought. She was sure
of it.

“Well,
maybe we haven’t formally met,” Abbie said. “We ran into each other the other
day.”

Returning
his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, he stared at her, unblinking. “I don’t
think we have. I’m sure I’d remember if we’d met before.”

Abbie
bit her lower lip and grasped her silver unicorn pendant. Did he really not
remember her? It had just been twenty-four hours or so, but surely she wasn’t
that forgettable.

“At Dr. Wachowski’s office.
Remember?” She let go
of the pendant. “You were in the waiting room. Wachoski made some lame comment
like, ‘cool threads’ or something.”

Rocky
chuckled. “I haven’t been to see a doctor since I was a kid with the chicken
pox.”

“No.”
Abbie shook her head and waved a hand as if erasing a chalkboard. “He’s not
that kind of doctor.”

She
stared at him. For a second, she considered the possibility that she was
mistaken, but she knew better. He recognized her. She saw it in his eyes. Then
she wondered why he was lying.