Thief

Annie Reed

Published by Thunder Valley Press at
Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Annie Reed

Cover Art Copyright
Esterio
| Dreamstime.com

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Annie Reed

The Frisbee missed the top of Abby Preston's
head by a mere inch, if that. She ducked, even though by the time
her head moved, the Frisbee was already skimming the green grass of
the quad behind where she sat trying to concentrate on her
Sociology 101 assignment.

"Hey!" She looked up at Ryan in mock
annoyance. "Watch where you're throwing that thing."

Ryan leaned down and kissed the top of Abby's
head. "That's not what you said last night," he murmured just loud
enough for her to hear.

Abby felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She'd
only been dating Ryan for a month and sleeping with him for two
weeks, and she wasn't quite comfortable yet with the newness of
their relationship. College life was tough enough without
complicating it by throwing a boyfriend into the mix. Then, of
course, there was the whole "don't worry, dear, you'll find someone
to settle down with in college" thing from her mother. That, more
than anything else, was why she'd resisted Ryan Maxon's attempts to
flirt with her for as long as she had. The last thing Abby wanted
to do was fulfill her mother's expectations.

"Are you going to make out with your
girlfriend or play Frisbee?"

The question came from Jimmy Fisher, Ryan's
best friend. Abby's cheeks grew warmer. That was another thing.
Dating Ryan didn't mean just hanging out with Ryan. It meant
tagging along with Ryan and Jimmy while they did their ex-high
school jock thing. In their case, it meant watching them try to
beat each other in whatever sport happened to catch their fancy.
Today it was tossing a Frisbee around the University of Nevada -
Reno quad. The afternoon before, it had been killer tennis on the
university courts. The day before that, touch football with some
guys from one of the frats.

"Both, of course," Ryan said. He kissed Abby
again, this time on the lips, then jogged over to pick up the
Frisbee. "See if you can catch this one," he said to Jimmy.

Abby tried to refocus on her textbook. Her
Sociology text was thick and boring as hell, and she had sixty
pages to read by tomorrow. She should have stayed in her dorm room,
but the first warm snap of early spring had drawn her outside along
with what looked like half the student body. The quad was loaded
with students sprawled out on blankets or simply sprawled out on
the grass, backpacks overloaded with books by their sides, out
enjoying the bright northern Nevada sunshine. It was a wonder that
Ryan and Jimmy weren't tripping over people and books with every
throw of the Frisbee. Lucky for both of them, they had the kind of
natural charm that together with their competitive natures and
striking good looks equaled charisma out the wazoo. Why someone
like Ryan would be interested in someone like Abby was beyond her.
She knew she wasn't ugly, although like most of the women in her
dorm, she would have changed parts of her body in an instant if she
could. She'd just never dated anyone like Ryan before, and he
really seemed to like her. They had a spark, or a connection, or
whatever you wanted to call it, but it was something special. Abby
didn't want to mess whatever it was up before it got a real chance
to grow, so when Ryan suggested she take her studying outside, she
said yes.

Only Sociology wasn't nearly as fun as
watching Ryan enjoying himself.

Abby closed her book and crossed her legs,
yoga style, and let herself enjoy watching her boyfriend.

She never even saw the guy who lifted her
purse from the blanket behind her until he was halfway down the
sidewalk leading to the engineering building.

"Hey! Wait!"

She scrambled to her feet. Her wallet with
her I.D. was in that purse, not to mention twenty bucks that had to
last her for the next five days until she got paid again.

As soon as she yelled, the guy started to
run. He never even looked behind himself to see who was yelling. He
was tall and skinny and had on a plain blue jacket and faded jeans
and tennis shoes. Abby was no natural athlete. Her legs were short,
and she knew she'd never catch him, but damn it, that was her
purse.

"Ryan!" she screamed over her shoulder as she
took off after the guy. She didn't wait to see if he heard her or
if he was following. She just ran.

The University of Nevada campus in Reno was
built on a gradually rising hill at the north end of town. The quad
where she'd been sitting watching Ryan was relatively flat, but the
buildings housing the various university departments were
constructed on multiple levels, none of which seemed to match. For
a small campus, the university had more stairs and sloping walkways
than anyplace Abby had ever seen. Just walking to and from her
classes had taken ten pounds off during her first semester, not to
mention toned her legs, and anger was a great motivator. Still,
Abby could see that the guy was pulling away from her. When he
bounded up the steps to the library two at a time, Abby knew she'd
lose him as soon as he turned the corner of the building. There
were too many places to disappear from there. Too many places for
him to ditch her purse after he took her wallet. She hoped he
choked on whatever he bought with her money.

Ryan and Jimmy caught up to her, but she
didn't stop for them. "That guy," she said, panting now and
pointing an unsteady finger at the thief. "He stole my purse!"

"What guy?" Ryan asked.

But it was too late. The thief had rounded
the corner of the library and was gone.

"Damn it!" Abby's legs gave out on her and
she stumbled to a shaky halt. "Damn it."

Ryan wrapped his arms around her. Abby let
herself be held only because she didn't want to fall down. She felt
hollow inside. She tried to tell herself she was being silly. It
was only twenty bucks. Maybe she could pick up an extra shift. She
worked at the sub sandwich shop two blocks from the campus. The pay
was awful but she got one free sandwich for every shift she worked.
She'd survive, somehow.

But she shouldn't have to do that. What made
people think they could just take whatever they wanted and get away
with it? She was sure her Sociology prof would have a name for
people like that, but all Abby cared about right now was that some
random guy had taken something that belonged to her, and there was
nothing she could do about it.

"Hey, Abby."

That was Jimmy. He was standing behind her,
talking to her like she was an egg that might crack open if he
spoke too loudly. She didn't turn her head to look at him. Any
minute now she was going to break out in angry tears, and she
didn't want him to see. She didn't want Ryan to see, either, but at
least with Ryan, it wouldn't be any more embarrassing than the
first time he'd seen her naked.

"What did your purse look like?" Jimmy
asked.

When Abby didn't answer, Ryan said, "Black
leather with a shoulder strap and a zipper on top, right,
Abbs?"

He was right. She didn't think he noticed
stuff like that. She nodded, her face still up against Ryan's
chest. Why did she have to be so short?

She didn't hear Jimmy leave. She tried not to
think of anything. It was an old trick she'd learned when her
mother pushed all of Abby's buttons and then feigned innocence when
Abby lashed out. Today it wasn't working.

"Hey," Ryan said softly. "It'll be okay. It's
just stuff. Stuff can be replaced."

She knew that, but it was her stuff. She'd
worked hard for all her replaceable stuff.

Like the textbooks she'd left on the blanket
in the quad.

"I need to go get my books before someone
steals them, too," she said.

She felt him relax just a little. "Books? Are
you kidding? No one's going to steal your books."

He was right. When they got back to the
blanket, her Sociology text was right where she left it. Everyone
had gone back to their studying or playing or simply enjoying the
sun. It was like nothing had ever happened, but something had.

She'd been robbed, and she and Ryan and Jimmy
were the only ones who seemed to care.

* * *

She filed a report with campus security, but
since she only had a vague description of the thief, she knew the
report would be filed away and that would be that.

"You need to keep your purse with you," the
security officer told her. "Or better yet, carry your valuables in
a front pocket of your jeans. Harder to steal that way."

Abby suppressed the sharp retort that
threatened to pop out. She wasn't an idiot. She was just
momentarily distracted. The campus security cop made her feel like
a victim all over again, and she didn't like that feeling one
bit.

A thought occurred to her. The security
officer, sixty if he was a day, had given his advice like he had to
give it often. "Has that happened before? Like what happened to
me?" she asked. "I mean, lately?"

The security officer shrugged. "I'm sure it
has. Most minor thefts around campus aren't reported, and the ones
that are... well, there are thousands of people who attend class on
this campus, not counting all the professors and assistants and
grad students, and we don't have the staff to interview everybody.
If we've got something to go on, like a name or a real description
of the perp, then we can investigate."

A real description. It wasn't her fault she'd
never seen the guy's face. He'd deliberately not turned to look at
her.

That fact bugged her all the long walk back
to her dorm room. The thief knew what he was doing. Not only had he
not turned around and shown her his face, he'd fled to the one spot
on campus where he'd be hidden from view long enough to blend in
with the crowds headed in any one of a half-dozen directions. Jimmy
had found her purse -- minus her wallet and the Sony Walkman her
mother had given her for her birthday last year -- behind a shrub
at the back of the library building. Abby'd had a fleeting thought
that the thief might have left fingerprints on the smooth black
leather, but after the lukewarm response she'd gotten from campus
security, she decided to keep any mention of fingerprints to
herself.

So if the thief had snatched purses before,
maybe someone else had gotten a better look at his face. Instead of
attacking her Sociology reading assignment, Abby spent the next
hour talking to every girl she saw in her dorm building. Three of
them had had their purses stolen while they were on the quad. Only
one of them had reported it. None of them had seen the thief's
face.

Abby flopped down on her bed. So much for
that angle. Maybe she just wasn't looking at things right. She was
the fourth woman he'd robbed, or at least the fourth that Abby knew
about. There were probably more victims out there. Even when the
weather was colder, people still hung out at the quad. The thief
knew the area well. He should. He'd done his little snatch and run
before, and he'd probably do it again.

She sat up straight as the thought sunk
in.

The thief would probably do the same thing
again in the same area. If she wanted to get a good look at him,
good enough to give a description to campus security so they could
catch him, she'd have to catch him in the act first. It would just
take time and patience, and being in the right place at the right
time. She already knew the right place. All she needed were a
couple of extra eyes to help her watch, and she was pretty sure she
knew where she could get a couple of volunteers.