The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,14
have an idea of who it might be?” Jem asked.
“No.”
Even with the darkness hiding most of Jem’s reaction, Tean knew what the other man was thinking: Hannah had just lied to them.
“What happened after you saw this person at the end of the trail?” Tean asked.
“It looked like she—this person had something in their hand. I thought it was metal because of the way it caught the light.”
“A knife?” Jem said.
“Maybe. Or maybe some sort of tool. I guess somebody could be coming down here to work on the trail, dig up a plant.”
“In the dark?” Tean said. “Without a flashlight?”
“I know,” Hannah said with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to explain it away. This person started down the trail, and I freaked out. Normally, I go about halfway along the trail and turn back; the full distance is a little too long for me when I just want a nice walk. But I was scared. Terrified, actually. And the other end of the trail lets out on a subdivision street, so I just went as fast as I could. Then I cut back around, staying in the subdivision, and made my way home.”
Jem spoke next. “Why do you think this person was following you?”
Hannah let out a breath she didn’t seem to know she’d been holding. Some of the tension went out of her shadowy figure, and when she answered, she sounded like she was on the edge of tears. “Thank you for asking me like that. Caleb immediately tried to convince me I was being hysterical. My dad too. You saw, well, you saw how they acted. They don’t believe me. They don’t want to believe me. For my dad, it’s because—well, it’s complicated. Because I’m a woman. That’s a lot of it. But I’ve been . . . unreliable in the past. In his view, anyway. My mom goes along with whatever my dad says. And Caleb—I don’t even know if he hears me sometimes.”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened after you saw this person on the trail?” Tean asked.
“I stopped. Twice. I was scared out of my mind, but I was also trying to be rational. This is a safe neighborhood. I grew up here. I’m nobody important or special, and there’s no reason somebody would want to follow me, let alone hurt me. But both times I stopped, I heard the footsteps stop too.”
“That’s interesting,” Jem said.
“Right? I think they had to be following me. They didn’t want to get too close, so they stopped and waited until I started moving again.”
“I think that’s a good sign,” Jem said. “I’m not sure this person is trying to hurt you. It seems to me more likely that they were following you for another reason.”
“Or, like many psychopathic killers and serial killers,” Tean said, “this person was simply rehearsing the kill, enjoying the pleasure of partially acting out the fantasy. It’s a frequent early step before the actual killing, a kind of transitional period where the pleasure of the fantasy is starting to fade, but the potential killer still isn’t quite ready to—ow.” Tean rubbed the back of his head. “Jeez, Jem, what the heck?”
“I saw a bug,” Jem said flatly. He was trying to communicate something with a look. A very irritated look.
It took a moment. “Um, oh, you know, actually, I think Jem is probably right. This person was probably just interested in you for some other reason.”
Hannah burst into tears.
“Hey,” Jem said, putting an arm around her, “we’re going to figure this out.”
“I am not helpless,” Hannah said.
“I know.”
“And I’m not defenseless.”
“I know.”
“I broke a cinderblock with my bare hands,” Hannah said. “Tae kwon do.”
“Construction sites of the world,” Jem said, “watch out.”
“And I have pepper spray.”
“If you need a test subject,” Jem said, “Tean will volunteer.”
“With my luck,” Tean said, “I’ll probably get blinded and stumble into traffic and get run over by a gang of teenage hooligans.”
“This isn’t about you,” Jem muttered. “And hooligans? How old are you?”
Hannah laughed a little at that, wiping her face, and they headed back down the trail. “I’ve seen a car following me,” Hannah said as they walked. “After that night, I mean. A green car. Dark green.”
“Make and model?” Tean asked.
Hannah shook her head.
“Anything else?” Jem said. “Strangers who look like you might have seen them before? Unusual traffic on your street? Phone calls? What about your trash?”