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“Hello to you, too,” I muttered and folded my
own arms over my chest in a mimic of his stance. “And I resent the
comment that I ran away from you. I had very good reasons for
leaving, three, in fact, if you include my mother’s displeasure if
I had been late picking up the twins.”

“You’re . . . what is the phrase, ah,
splitting hairs again,” he said. “You kicked me extremely hard for
someone who was just trying to go and pick up her little brothers,
and I’m surprised you didn’t squeal your tires as you left the
parking lot.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, which probably
wasn’t the most mature move in the world, but it was one of my few
non-violent reactions to things that I considered to be unpleasant.
He looked startled for a moment, and then his eyes flickered down
to my mouth and stayed there for a few seconds longer than I felt
comfortable with. When his hooded gaze finally returned to my eyes
he met my patented “glare of doom” and actually had the grace to
look a little embarrassed.

“Look,” he said, his cheeks dusted with a
light shade of pink, “We need to talk, and I mean really talk,
because whatever verbal sparring we’re doing, whatever issues you
have with me, I’m concerned about you and Maria.”

I hadn’t been expecting that (not really sure
what I had been expecting, really), and my thought process was
derailed for a second before I managed to gather my wits, and my
suspicions, back together.

“Why?” I asked and tilted my head slightly to
the side as if viewing him from a different angle would help clear
up some the mysteries that surrounded him.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair,
and, rather stupidly, I might add, I found myself transfixed as it
caught the light and gave off faint blue highlights similar to
those of a raven’s feather. The effect was especially noticeable
since his hair was loose about his shoulders today instead of
pulled back, and my fingers actually twitched a little with the
desire to touch and discover if his hair was really as soft and
silky as it looked. My cheeks flamed with both embarrassment and
horror when I realized that I was actually admiring his hair and
thinking about how pretty it was, all shiny and soft and . .

FOCUS
!

“All right.”

“All right what?” I asked, confused.

“We do need to focus a little, and I don’t
think we’ll be able to do that if you’re having to stop and help
customers that come in. How much longer until you’re off work?”

My face grew even hotter. I hadn’t realized
that I had said the word “focus” out loud, but I did have to admit,
even though I hated it, that he was right. We really did need to
talk, and if he were concerned about Maria while only having known
her (or known of her, really) for a few months, then maybe it was
time I stopped being so mistrusting and shared some of my concerns
with him. But I promised myself that I wouldn’t say a single word
until he came clean first. What was it Hannible Lecter said to
Clarice Starling? Oh yes, quid pro quo and all that. As long as he
didn’t decide to eat my liver . . .

And I pulled my thoughts away from whatever
bizarre path they had decided to take and focused again on Akira,
who was watching me expectantly.

“My shift isn’t over for another hour,” I
said, “but after that I’m fairly free. Mr. Baker will get here
soon, and we can grab something to eat and find a quiet place to
talk. There are gazebos and other such places in the park that’s
between here and the mall, and since it’s gotten a little chilly I
doubt there will be many people out and about.”

“Ok,” he said. I waited for him to leave, but
he surprised me when he picked up a couple of the books I had
unpacked and looked at me. “I can help you while I wait for your
shift to end. What do I need to do?”

I was surprised and a little irritated
because it felt very much like he just didn’t want to let me out of
his sight in case I decided to run again, but personal feelings
aside, I also wasn’t stupid, so I reluctantly took him up on his
offer to help put the books away. Several of them were designated
for the upper shelves, and I was just too short to put them in
place without hauling a ladder around, but Akira had no issues with
being vertically challenged. With his help the unpacking, sorting,
and shelving went a lot more quickly than it would have originally,
and everything was put away and neatened up by the time Mr. Baker
came in through the backdoor.

Akira and I had found a few children’s books
on Cherokee legends and myths and were discussing a few of the
creatures in relation to our project, and I had just told him about
my Bigfoot idea when Mr. Baker walked up to the register.

“Miss Alexander,” he said. “I would like to
commend you on your ability to put away all those books neatly and
in a timely manner. It certainly shall be appreciated this
afternoon when the after lunch crowd comes in.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Baker, but I had help,”
I said as I gestured to Akira. Mr. Baker peered at Akira through
his glasses, and then nodded in recognition.

“Ah, yes, the young gentleman who sought out
your company a few nights ago. A pleasure having you back in my
store, and much thanks for your assistance.”

“Ah, it was no problem,” Akira said and I
stifled a giggle at his bemused expression. This was only his
second time talking with Mr. Baker, and the older man’s overly
formal turn of phrase did take quite a bit of getting used to.

One thing I’ll say about Mr. Baker, he might
be eccentric, but he’s awfully kind. He was so thankful that we had
finished unpacking and sorting the books that he let me go thirty
minutes early under the condition that he talk to Akira for a
moment while I waited outside.

He didn’t keep Akira very long, and we were
soon on our way through the park. Akira was quiet. He gazed out
down the path or up into the branches of the trees, so I left him
to his thoughts while I retreated back into my own. I knew that we
were going to have to talk, but I promised myself that I wouldn’t
say anything too personal until he had given me a damn good reason
for why he was so interested and focused on Maria and what was
going on with her. I didn’t think he was romantically attracted to
her; his questions had seemed more focused on her change than
anything else, but that deep seated feeling of mistrust warned me
to be extra cautious with him.

I frowned when the thought of him possibly
being interested in Maria in a romantic way was accompanied by a
small twinge of jealousy, but I quickly squashed it. The last thing
I needed was to start to develop feelings for someone who was
hiding something and was being suspicious about it. Besides, I
didn’t have time to develop a crush on someone, especially if that
someone was the darling of the general female population within the
entire school.

When we reached the food court I suggested
that we get sandwiches from a family run deli because they’d be
easier to transport to the location of our discussion. He agreed,
and before long we trudged our way back into the park. We found a
bench large enough for both of us without being squashed together
near the deserted fishing pond, and settled down.

“What did Mr. Baker want?” I asked, curious
about what had Akira so pensive.

“He offered me a job.”

I choked on my sandwich. After a few moments
of coughing and spluttering I was able to take in a breath without
feeling the need to pound on my chest. Akira gave me an odd
look.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Sorry, I’m just surprised because Mr. Baker
is notoriously tight fisted and doesn’t just randomly offer people
jobs. I volunteered at his store for free for six months before he
finally offered to pay me for what I was doing.”

“Ah, ok. Well, I think you’re the reason he
offered me a job in the first place.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, and I quote, ‘Jane is a wonderfully
sweet, independent girl, but I do have concerns about her working
long hours alone in the store. It would be beneficial for both her
safety and my peace of mind if she had someone else in the store
who could run interference should something go array.’ I think I
got that right.”

I sighed. “That’s really sweet of him, but I
haven’t had a problem since I started to work there, and I highly
doubt you’d have time for a part time job with basketball season
getting ready to start up in full swing.”

Akira shrugged. “I told him I’d think about
it and that I did have prior commitments with the school. He said,
‘Young man, sports may help to build the body, but a job helps to
build character.’”

I groaned and put my face in my hands.
Really, Mr. Baker was nice, but when he got an idea in his head he
tended to not let it go. Akira could look forward to a lot of
requests for him to work for Baker’s Bookstore every time he
visited until Mr. Baker got what he wanted. And while I would love
to have another worker there for company and to help out . . . did
it have to be Akira?

“So,” Akira said, and I stiffened. I
recognized that particular tone of voice as it was the universal “I
need to change the subject and can’t think of an elegant way to do
it so I’m going to be ham fisted and just launch right into it”
signal.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so
interested in Maria?” I asked. I figured going on the offensive
first with my own sledgehammer attempt at a subject change would be
best. I surprised him, but instead of clamming up he leaned back on
the bench and stretched those long legs out. He crossed his
ankles.

“To answer that question, I’m going to need
to tell you a little bit about why I’m here at this school in the
first place.”

“Hah, I knew it! There IS something fishy
going on about your being here! ”

Akira was now completely derailed.
“What?”

“I can sometimes tell when things don’t add
up, or if someone is trying to hide something. There is just no
real logical explanation for why someone of your talent on the
basketball court would be interested in coming to our Podunk little
town in order to play. You’d get a lot more exposure to colleges
and Pro scouts at a large school in one of the bigger cities like
D.C.”

“I . . . see,” he said, and was silent for a
moment as he mulled over what I said. He was probably trying to
think of a way to tell me things without giving too much away. It
would be interesting to see how that went; he was slipperier than a
fresh caught catfish.

“I guess the best place to start is at the
beginning. I’m not really a foreign exchange student,” he began,
and I couldn’t help the slightly smug tilt that my smile took. “I’m
actually here on assignment from Interpol.”

My jaw dropped. “Wait . . . THE Interpol? As
in, International Criminal Police Organization? Seriously?”

“Yes,” he said and frowned slightly. “I’m
actually part of an extremely specialized branch that deals with
some of the more bizarre crimes against humanity.”

“Bizarre how?”

“Well, I guess you could say we’re the ones
who hunt down the Yeti if it is rumored to be killing and eating
humans in the mountains of Switzerland. I’m here under cover
because reports of strange disappearances have been filtering to us
and I was dispatched to investigate any and all reports.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said flatly as I
stared at him. “No way are you part of Interpol, and if you think
I’m going to swallow the whole ‘I’m a secret agent man’ thing, then
you have another think coming.”

Akira looked put out for a moment, and then
he sighed. “Fine, fine, I’m not part of Interpol, though that’s my
agency’s standard cover story. I AM part of an international
organization that investigates strange stories and such,
though.”

“What’s the name of this so called
organization?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said and gave me
a sharp look. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but we ARE
secret and for a very good reason. I’m actually breaking protocol
by even telling you what little I am.”

“Why?”

“I told you, it’s against our rules and
regulations to revel ourselves to civilians . .”

“No,” I broke in. “Why are you breaking
protocol and risking punishment, for lack of a better word, to tell
me this?”

“Because I think your friend Maria was
attacked by an individual I’ve been tracking for the last two
years, and you’re my best chance to get to talk with her. Besides,
I like you and am tired of the verbal dancing we’ve been doing the
last few days.”

The last bit was said so casually that I
floundered for a response. I wanted to ask about this individual he
mentioned chasing, and I REALLY wanted to ask why he thought Maria
had been attacked by him, but when I finally got my brain around to
asking a question, it had nothing to do with my actual
thoughts.

“Just how old are you?”

“I’ll be turning twenty-one this
November.”

I lurched sideways and almost all the way off
the bench, as there was no armrest to catch my jerking move and for
a brief moment I teetered between making really good friends with
gravity and reclaiming my seat. I righted myself and gaped at
him.

“Isn’t that illegal?” I asked, too stunned to
feel even remotely embarrassed about my near introduction to the
ground.

“Illegal how?”

“You’re at a high school playing high school
basketball! There’s got to be some kind of rule against someone
who’s not a teenager playing on a high school sports team!”

“The school is aware that I’m here
undercover,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “When they
found out that I had successfully played basketball at my old high
school they jumped at the chance to have me on their team. I
believe they said it was some kind of ‘international cooperation to
help improve struggling moral’ or something like that.”