Persephone's Orchard (The Chrysomelia Stories) (34 page)

“What are you doing here?”

He squinted down the street, as students flowed around them. “I…just wanted to see you. I knew you’d say no if I asked to come up, so…ah, I probably shouldn’t have come. But I did, so, can we have coffee or something?”

“Look…”

“As friends.” He gazed at her, his eyes softening, becoming so familiar it weakened her defenses. “Please? You’re not going to make me drive straight back to Eugene, right?”

Ashamed to have been in the middle of arranging another date, she slid her phone into her pocket. “I guess I have an hour.”

They sat with mugs of coffee in a sandwich shop, and caught up on the news of each other’s family members and friends. (Sophie left Adrian out of her account, of course.) But she was only halfway through her coffee before Jacob heaved a sigh, sent a puppy-eyed look at her, and asked, “Can’t we try again?”

She rotated the mug on the table, her appetite vanishing. “I told you. I don’t think so.”

“We’re good together. I know we’ve had fights sometimes, but everyone does. I’m sorry about all the times I annoyed you. I’ll do better. Can’t we clear the slate and start over?”

Immediately Adrian’s voice filled her head, somber and sweet:
We don’t know of any other way to clear the slate. You’re stuck with these memories.

There was no question whose voice she’d rather hear, who she’d rather share a table and a life with.

She looked directly at Jacob. “I’m sorry too. I really am. But no. It’s impossible.”

This time he didn’t put up much of a fight. Evidently he could see she meant it. Within five minutes, they dumped their mugs in the bin for dirty tableware, and left the restaurant. The sun was setting, and thick clouds darkened the city. Streetlights gleamed between trees; cars and bikes traveled with their lights on.

Sophie walked Jacob to his car, since it was only parked a block away.

He unlocked it, and gazed at her. “If you ever change your mind…well, I’ll be here.”

I won’t
, she thought. But she answered with a nod, and said, “Drive safely.”

She watched him drive away, then checked her texts. Another had arrived from Adrian.
Sweet. See you at 7 then. We’ll make sure you get your homework done. ;)

Raindrops began pattering around Sophie. She moved beneath the awning of the nearest restaurant, and entered a reply:
It’s ok if we take a few breaks from homework. ;) So um, weird: Jacob just visited. Hasn’t given up. I sent him back to Eugene just now.

Ah
, he responded.
Well it can’t be easy, losing a treasure like you. Whole thing wasn’t too awkward, I hope?

A bit
, she wrote.
Mainly I just wanted to be with you instead.

Aw, you’re the best. I’ve missed you all day.

She smiled, re-reading his words, feeling warm all over despite the cold wind and the rainy darkness.
Thanks. See you soon. I better get dinner now
.

His
See you
arrived as she walked out into the rain; she glanced quickly at it, then tucked the phone deep into her pocket to protect it from the wet. She turned onto a campus sidewalk that ran under a row of trees, and hurried toward her dorm’s dining hall.

Halfway along the street, a shadow leaped up next to her. Startled, she skittered aside, but the man seized her and dragged her off the sidewalk. Panic flashed hot through her; she kicked and yelped. A clammy, rough hand covered her mouth.

“Give me your phone,” he growled into her ear.

She tried to scream, but the sound was trapped in her throat. She kicked again, hitting the man’s shins, but not hard enough to make him let go, and somehow he had her arms pinned and her body tilted off balance. He twisted her forearm to the point of wrenching pain, and repeated, “Give me your phone.”

“Mm-hmm,” she whimpered, as if acquiescing.

Carefully drawing one arm free, she slid it into her coat pocket. And pulled out the pepper spray instead, firing a hissing stream of it over her shoulder, straight into his eyes.

He screamed, began coughing, and let go to claw at his face. The cloud of chemicals stung Sophie’s eyes and nose too, and she stumbled away, tears streaming from her burning eyes, coughs overtaking her throat. It was torture—she could only imagine what the man felt like, having the stuff right in his eyes. But the bastard deserved it. Time to call 911 and get him locked up.

She had her phone in hand and the digits dialed. But as the dispatcher answered, a car screeched to a stop next to the sidewalk, and a man in dark clothes reached out from the passenger side, grabbed her assailant, and hauled him into the vehicle. The door slammed and the car took off. Sophie, coughing, eyes blurry, squinted after it to get a license plate or at least a make, but couldn’t see anything clearly enough.

It wasn’t Jacob’s car, and neither guy was Jacob. That much she could say with certainty, though she loathed that the thought entered her mind.

“Hello? Do you need help?” the dispatcher asked on the phone.

“I was just attacked,” she rasped out. “On the street. He got away.”

“What’s your location? Someone will come as soon as possible.”

A few instructions and answers later, a police car and ambulance arrived with lights flashing. A medic sat Sophie down on the tailgate of the ambulance and helped her rinse the pepper spray out of her eyes, and gave her water to drink. One male and one female police officer took down her report.

“Did you get a good look at him?” the woman asked.

“No, not at all. He was a little bigger than me, definitely stronger, but I couldn’t see much.”

“Did you recognize his voice? Could it be anyone you know?”

“I don’t think so, but…” Sophie blew her runny nose, and wadded up the tissue. “There’s a woman who sort of threatened me the other day. I have to wonder if she’s connected to this.”

“What’s her name?” asked the male officer. He flipped open a smartphone, ready to run a criminal search, Sophie supposed.

“Betty Quentin. I think she’s a retired professor—not a professor here; from somewhere on the East Coast. But I saw her here a few days ago. We talked in a coffee shop. That was the first and only time I ever met her.”

“And why did she threaten you?”

Sophie hesitated. “I’m not really sure. I got the impression she was kind of unstable. She got crazy pretty fast.”

“What did she say?” the woman asked. “What was the threat?”

Sophie realized too late that she couldn’t truthfully explain it.
She’d
become the mentally unstable one in their eyes. “Something about…how she wanted me to join her cult, and it’d be dangerous to say no. I don’t even know what the cult is.” There; that seemed safe enough.

“We do get types like that around campus,” said the policeman with the smartphone. “We’ll see if we can find her. But my hunch is this was unrelated. Attempted mugging and assault; some guy with an accomplice. They were looking for someone alone to grab, saw you, and went for it. Good thing you had that pepper spray.”

“But just now, a few minutes ago, I was having coffee with my ex-boyfriend, and these cult people have bothered him too. So I thought, if they followed him or something, and then saw me…”

The two cops exchanged a glance. “You were with your ex-boyfriend tonight?” the man asked.

Sophie saw where this was going. “Yeah,” she said reluctantly.

“Was the breakup recent?” asked the woman.

“About a week ago.”

“So, possibly some bitter feelings on his side?”

“He wasn’t one of the two guys who attacked me. And I really don’t think he’d have anyone else do it. But these people, if they followed him, without him knowing…”

“What’s his name?” asked the smartphone cop. “We can at least ask him if he saw anyone hanging around.”

Sorry about this, Jacob
, she thought. “Jacob Nealon. He’s a freshman at U of O.”

“Okay. We’ll look into it. But like I said, chances are it was just a random attack. Can we take you somewhere? Back to your room?”

She nodded. “I have some people to call.”

Chapter Thirty

I
DO NOT LIKE THIS,” SAID
Adrian—after a tightly bit-off string of swear words. “Not one bit.” He drew in a long breath, exhaled, and gathered her into his arms. “But you’re safe. The police are on it. You did well.”

They were in the Airstream, its interior lit by a small bedside lamp and the pair of candles on the table. From her dorm room, she had called her parents first. Meanwhile, Melissa sat at her desk, gathering the story by overhearing Sophie tell it, and looking quietly concerned. The news incited her parents’ terror and fury, and she had to spend a long while soothing them and promising to be extra careful. The most difficult part was convincing
them
to be careful too. They saw no reason why anyone would bother them or their lowly fruit stand, but Sophie now possessed heightened fears about the possibility. Finally, having secured their promise to watch out for suspicious people, she wrapped up her call, and barely reached her study date with Adrian on time.

She hadn’t told him about the attack until he arrived. He had looked at her reddened eyes and asked in alarm what was wrong. She’d told him as they walked back to the trailer, and now they sat together on his bed, in their silent hug.

She rested her head on his chest, comforted by the gentleness and warmth of his embrace—though, she found when she tried to shift, his arms were as rigid as an iron cage around her. “Relax,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”

His muscles loosened. “Sorry. But… ‘random attack’? I don’t believe it. Not with Quentin warning you the other day, and Jacob being there five minutes before it happened.”

“I really don’t think he’d arrange anything like that. But yeah, if they followed him, it makes sense. That reminds me.” She lifted her head to look at him. “Yesterday, after Rhea talked to me, I saw a man watching us. He even followed me when I went into a building, but I took off a different way and lost him. I figured it was just my imagination. But now…”

He sighed. “Yeah. They’re onto you, all right.”

“Do you think it was that Wilkes guy? The one on the business card?”

“Could be. If Quentin’s using him as a contact, I wouldn’t rule it out.”

“I thought of mentioning him to the police, but…he
is
a cop.” She frowned. “Does this mean we can’t trust any of the police?”

“Oh, we can trust most of them. That is, most of them aren’t in Thanatos. The cult is a small group. But they have members in several different useful positions—religious leaders, cops and other officials, academics, and so on. Still, no, I doubt it would help to mention Wilkes. All he did for sure was hand out his cards, and he could easily deny doing that, or say he hands them out all the time during investigations and doesn’t remember everyone he gives them to. He’ll know how to cover his tracks, being a cop.”

“Is Niko still keeping an eye on him?”

“Yeah, a bit. He’s also looking for Quentin, but can’t find her yet. She could be using a different name, and might not even be in Corvallis. Thus no luck so far. But I’ll ring him tonight and tell him what happened, so he can look for any hints that Wilkes or Quentin were involved.”

Sophie nodded, thinking about the assault. “The guy who grabbed me was after my phone. Not my purse. That’s really what makes me think it’s Thanatos.”

“Yeah. Bet they wanted to find my number on it and lure me out.”

“They’d have to search under ‘David.’ Not sure they’re that smart.”

Adrian smiled wryly. “Likely not.” He touched the puffy skin around her eye. “Poor love. It was good work, the pepper spray, but it hurt you too.” He settled the lightest, softest kiss upon one eyelid and then the other.

The tense knot eased inside her. Hollowness still remained, though: her stomach growled. She looked up at him. “Hey, I skipped dinner. Do you have anything to eat around here?”

“You’re in luck. I bought groceries today. Salami, bread, pasta, salad, biscuits.”

“Does biscuits mean cookies?”

“Yep.”

“Ooh. I
am
lucky.”

While Adrian rose and began heating water for pasta, Sophie’s phone buzzed.

“Hmm,” she said, looking at it. “Text from Jacob.” She opened it and winced as she read it.

You called the cops on me?? Real nice. I’m sorry someone jumped you but I had NOTHING to do with it. I can’t believe you’d even think that. Had to spend an hour answering questions, making me feel like a criminal when I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING. You can forget what I said about waiting for you. You are freaking crazy. Good riddance.

Rage and hurt filled Sophie’s chest, choking out her breath. She scooted her thumbs over the screen, ready to fire back all her defenses—who was the attacked party here?—then she stayed still, reconsidering. The rage subsided; she breathed again.