Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

On Monday,
the event coordinator had me running around for her. I checked off a list of potential
venues for functions later in the summer, then I drove across town to meet with
the manager of the restaurant hosting the fundraiser on Friday.

I got back to the office in time to have
a quick lunch with Julian. We went to the Ocean View Bar and Grill nearby, and
I collapsed in the chair the moment we got a table.

“You okay?” she asked, amused. “Looks
like Gina’s working you hard.”

“Yeah.” I straightened and massaged my
neck. “I haven’t transitioned into the new position yet, so she’s using me as much
as she can.”

Julian shrugged. “Well, I’m sure she’s
sad to lose you as her assistant.”

I scoffed. “Please, if it were up to
Gina, I’d be an intern at Vanderson Publishing forever. But hey, at least it
keeps my mind off everything else.”

“Humph.” She frowned. “Oh, before I
forget.” I slurped my strawberry smoothie while Julian rummaged in her purse.
“I have something for you,” she said, handing me a small black object.

“Pepper spray?” I confirmed, inspecting
the container in the palm of my hand. My mind drifted to the other night. I was
still unsure whether my stalker had really been at the club.

Julian’s voice pulled me back. “Why’d
you do something so silly? You shouldn’t be out drinking, Bristol. This guy is
still on the loose.”

Moping, I dropped the pepper spray in my
purse. “I just wanted to have fun and not let him take that away too.”

Her eyes drooped with sadness as she
spoke again. “It must be hard. No one should ever go through this.”

Tears blurred my vision. I lowered my
head and tried to shove them back. “Why me? What did I do?”

Reaching over, Julian clasped my hands.
“Hang in there, Bristol. You’re a strong girl.”

“Yeah right,” I chuckled, doubtful.

She squeezed my hands. “Bristol Armando,
you are an impeccably strong person and I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

Choked up, I enclosed her hands into
mine and beamed at her. “It’s the other way around. I’m so grateful for you and
Amber.”

We composed ourselves as the waitress
brought out our meals. Afterward, Julian returned to the office, and I picked
up where I’d left off on the list of tasks.

Leaving work in the evening, I headed to
the center to help Kathy. Dad told me to go back to the condo but the thought
of her packing boxes and handling shipments alone made me feel guilty.

We were working on the last batch of
deliveries when she asked, “What’s on your mind, dear? You’ve been quiet since
you’ve arrived. It’s not like you.”

I sighed and glanced over my shoulder.
“It’s been so stressful these past few weeks.”

“Want to talk?” she asked, sealing a
box. Kathy came over and sat beside me on the bench where I’d been working.

Taking a break from packing, I spun to
face her. “There’s this guy that’s been scaring me. He keeps sending me things
and is convinced that I should be with him.”

“Oh my, that’s awful.” Wrinkles appeared
at the corners of her blue eyes as they constricted in horror. “Do you know
him? Did you report it?”

“The police are involved, but I don’t
know the guy,” I replied, glancing at the chipped marble tile beneath my feet.

Kathy rubbed my back, comforting me.
“I’m so sorry, dear.”

I raised my shoulders in a shrug as I
picked at my pants. She held my hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Don’t
you worry, horrible people are always punished.”

Her words cheered me up a tad. “Thanks,
Kathy.”

“No need to thank me, just try to stay
strong. I’m sure the police will catch him soon.” A sympathetic smile reached
her lips as she playfully slapped my hands and gestured for us to finish.

The center had closed by the time we
sealed the final boxes. We ended up staying even later to complete the delivery
forms.

Kathy secured the lock on the drop-off
lift out back, and then we went around the building toward the front gates,
using the overhanging floodlights on the roof to guide our steps.

The ashy evening sky had turned to dark,
and with it came a frigid spring breeze. We approached the iron gates, and I
began searching in my purse for my keys, only to realize that my cellphone wasn’t
there.

Shit!

“I think I left my phone inside,” I told
her, feeling crappy.

“I’ll go back with you,” she offered,
taking out her keys.

I stopped her. “It’s okay. I’ll go to
the main entrance and ask Mr. Porter to let me in that way. You head home. I know
you’re tired.” And I felt like such an inconvenience when she had someone
waiting.

Her face was partly hidden by the night,
but I could still tell she was hesitant about leaving me.

“It’s okay,” I assured her.

“Um…” Kathy slanted and peered across the
street. “You sure?” she asked, turning back. “I don’t mind making my fella wait
a few more minutes.”

“No,” I giggled. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

She brushed my arm in a tender way.
“Well, all right. See you next week then.”

“Okay. See you.”

Kathy spun and continued through the
gates. The car started as she hurried across the street, taking off the instant
she hopped in and shut the door.

I turned and strode back to the center,
going up the concrete steps to the main entrance. I pressed the button at the
glass doors. Mr. Porter, the security guard, stuck his head out from the
reception counter and buzzed me into the building.

“Miss Armando, did you forget
something?” he asked as I stalked up to the counter.

“Yeah, I left my phone in the storage
room. I’m just going to head back and grab it.”

He nodded. “Sure thing. Hurry. I’m
locking down the building in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay.”

I hastened down the passage until
reaching the connecting door that led to the pantry. That side of the building
was pitch black. I could hardly see my shadow.

The storage room was at the end of the
passage. When I reached the thick metal door, I fumbled for the switch and
flicked on the light.

My cellphone was next to a pile of
reports on a shelf. I’d taken it out to do calculations, but forgot to put it
back in my purse.

I grabbed my phone, turned the light off
in the room, and then made my way back.

Something was different, eerie.

As I stepped past the door that led to
the drop-off area, it creaked, startling me. I slowed and looked sideways.

The door opened halfway. No one came
out. The light was off in the room.

I thought maybe the overhead steel lift
wasn’t properly closed, causing this door to open because of a draft.

Repressing the fear in my stomach, I
made slow steps toward the room, deciding to check the lift.

It opened further.

I froze in my tracks, frightened, heart
racing.

No. It wasn’t the breeze. Someone was
inside the room. A lump grew in my throat. I backed away.

The door flung open, and a figure appeared
in the dark doorway.

“Bristol…” whispered a deep and chilling
voice—
his voice
.

“Ah!” I screamed, and then bolted.

Heavy, loud footsteps chased after me.

“Help!” I cried out, tears falling.

My heart pounded in my ears. Panic
rushed through me. My shoes skidded on the tile. I almost fell before reaching
the connecting door.

I pushed it open. Light gave me hope.
“Help me!” I yelled.

Mr. Porter hurried into the passage,
alarmed. I ran to him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Gripping his shirt, I cried, “He’s here!
He’s after me!”

The old man’s eyes peered open,
mystified. “Who’s here?” he asked, looking over my shoulder. “No one’s coming.”

Frustrated, I turned and pointed. “He’s
right—” I couldn’t believe it. “There…” my voice trailed. “Where is he?”

I spun back to Mr. Porter. He wrinkled
his forehead and eyed me as if I’d gone mad. “It’s an old building,” he said
with a chuckle. “It gives me the creeps too.”

“No,” I yelped. “The lift’s open. He’s
inside the center. He was chasing me.”

Mr. Porter raised his hands, trying to
calm me. “Okay. I’ll go check it out. Stay here.”

He stepped around me and headed to the
connecting door, going through it. I hugged myself, afraid of what he might
find, or worse, what might happen to him.

It felt like an eternity as I waited in
the empty passage. I watched the entrance, worried my stalker might come after
me from that side.

The connecting door wrenched open. I
shuddered. My heart settled when I saw Mr. Porter.

He ambled closer, shrugging. “The lift
is locked. No doors were open. There’s no one else here.”

“He was right behind me,” I insisted.

Mr. Porter cocked his head to one side.
“Did you really see someone, Miss Armando?”

 “Yes…” I stopped to consider. “I
mean, he said my name… I heard his footsteps…”

Gosh! Had I imagined it?

The security guard gave me a wry smile.
“Found your phone?”

I bobbed, speechless. Maybe I was going
crazy.

“Okay, why don’t I walk you to your
car?” He motioned for us to head toward the entrance.

Still frantic, I clutched my purse to my
chest as we started out of the building.

Descending the concrete steps, I watched
for any sudden movement in the oak trees and shrubs out front. I halted when a
strong wind gushed by, rattling the leaves. Shadows danced in the grass. Branches
like arms stretched out toward me.

Mr. Porter touched my elbow. I recoiled,
so damn jumpy. “It’s okay,” he said in a soft tone, then nodded to my car
parked outside the gates. “Come on.”

I exhaled long and hard, and then
continued along the concrete path. Reaching the iron gates, Mr. Porter slowed
in his steps while I unlocked my car.

“Thank you,” I said, distressed.

He waved and started back to the
building.

Feeling exhausted, I sat for a moment
without starting the car. A tsunami of emotions swept over me, and I started to
cry. I wept until I’d drained myself so much that I didn’t have the energy to
shed any more tears. I tossed my purse on the passenger seat and fiddled with
my phone, wanting to call Mason.

And tell him what? That I’d been imagining
things?

He’d been through enough with his
sister. I didn’t want to make him panic because of my inability to get a grip
on my fear.

Pulling myself together, I started the
car and headed home.
Damn
. Being stalked was doing a number on me. I was
on edge twenty-four seven.