Spiraled (Callahan & McLane Book 3) (22 page)

32

Ava woodenly ordered her usual coffee drink. She wasn’t thirsty or craving the sugar and caffeine as on some mornings, but the therapist had suggested she continue her usual routine. She’d nearly fallen asleep at the wheel and hoped the caffeine would help, but she suspected her body and psyche were simply trying to shut down and hide from the world. Caffeine might not be enough to fight it.

The only thing that’d resonated with her from her morning session with Dr. Pearl Griffin had been the doctor’s suggestion that Ava stick to her usual daily activities. They might feel wrong at the moment, but once her mind caught up with what’d she’d been through, she’d be a few steps ahead by not having let the anxiety change how she functioned.

“If you usually go to church on Sundays, then keep going,” the psychiatrist had suggested. “If you see a movie with Mason every Friday, don’t stop. Make yourself do those regular things that don’t require much thought.”

Ava had known the therapy session was hopeless from the moment she’d shaken Dr. Griffin’s limp hand. There was no way her boss had ever met Pearl Griffin. She must have been the first doctor who had an opening. Dr. Griffin was from a different generation and her ability to relate to Ava was zero. Dr. Griffin should have been serving tea and crustless sandwiches at a retirement center as she advised lonely women on how to look nice to attract their next husband.
Seriously
.
Dr. Griffin was a sweet woman, but Ava needed someone to kick her butt, not compliment her skin. She’d sat down in the freezing office and envied the doctor’s thick cardigan as she studied the tiny older woman. “Mousy” had been the primary adjective in her head. She’d reminded Ava of a grandmother on a sitcom, one who baked cookies and whose corny confusion always drew laughter.

But it had felt good to dump her story in the doctor’s lap. Ava had been slow to open up, but she’d regurgitated her stress from the shooting and her despair from Jayne’s suicide attempt. Once the gate to her memories had lifted, Ava hadn’t stopped. She was matter-of-fact about the shooting. It’d happened; she’d handled it. But her stories and complaints about her sister were wide and varied, sometimes making her cry and other times making her angry. The doctor had barely gotten a word in. When ten were minutes left, she’d finally held up a hand for Ava to slow down, and asked a few pointed questions.

She’d suggested Ava request more time off.

Ha!
Ava took a long sip of her iced coffee. Sticking her nose into the shootings was currently keeping her sane.

She’d suggested Ava allow her to prescribe some medication. A low dose.

She hated the idea of medication. She’d watched Jayne try too many medications, but she’d promised the doctor she’d think about it. The thought was nearly overwhelming, so she’d tucked it out of sight.
Perhaps that’s a sign I need something? That
I’m unable to process decisions?

She leaned against her vehicle outside the coffee shop, letting the sun bake her shoulders and head. Feeling eyes on the back of her neck, she turned around and studied the parking lot. A few people roamed the lot, heading to their cars with their cups of caffeine in hand. Nobody met her gaze.

Am I paranoid now?
Flustered, she unlocked her vehicle and worried that her leash on her brain was slipping. Physical movement was what she had used in the past to stay in control. Mason liked to run, but Ava’s knees twinged in a bad way when she tried. She’d rather hike and soak in the scenery. Or go to yoga and shift her brain into neutral as she felt her muscles stretch and complain. A little pain sounded good right now; it’d help her stay focused.

Don’t give up your usual schedule.

Well, she’d gotten her usual coffee. She was going back to work as soon as her vacation was over. Tonight was her evening yoga class. The one she was always relieved to attend to break up the workweek. Typically she attended twice a week, and she hadn’t planned to go tonight. She’d received an email saying that the center had reopened along with the mall and classes were back on schedule. She assumed they’d suffered a drop in attendance from the shooting, but it wouldn’t last. People would return after time made their memories fade.

The image of Misty’s bleeding leg popped into her brain. That memory would take a while to fade.

Am I ready to return to class?

She liked her instructor and hated to think that he might feel bad that people avoided his class because of the mall shooting.

If she could commit to getting her daily coffee, she could commit to going to yoga. It was a step in the right direction.

33

He watched the young man pace in front of the Starbucks where he’d requested they meet, glancing up at every person who approached the building. Eagerness rolled off of him.

Good.
It was easiest when they were anxious to please. He’d found the nature of the event appealed to men in their twenties. The secrecy, the surprise, the reward. He’d created the perfect vehicle for achieving his goals. It’d been simple once he’d thought it through. Finding people eager to help and leaving no record of that search were the keys that made his plan perfect.

“Simon?” he asked the young man as he approached, holding out his hand.

“Yes, Travis? Great to meet you finally.” Simon’s height and build were perfect. He hadn’t fudged his stats.

“Thanks for your interest in helping us out. I know being available on such short notice makes it difficult for some people.” He watched Simon’s gaze go to the scars on the side of his neck that his hair didn’t quite hide. The young man stared for a split second, swallowed, and regained his composure as he went back to direct eye contact.

How many times have I watched people go through the same motions?

Simon grinned, the scars mentally set aside. “But that’s the nature of the situation and what gives it the thrill. You guys prepare the absolute best you can, getting ready for every possible outcome, but you rely on the oblivious star of the show to perform as you hope. It’s awesome.”

Yes, yes it is.
“I’m glad you understand.” Travis gestured at an outdoor table. “Let’s sit for a bit, then we can walk the location.”

“So it’s definitely happening here?” Simon asked.

“I’m ninety percent certain. Our backup location is the Rivertown Mall. If she doesn’t follow her usual routine, I’ll call you. You can hustle over there on short notice, right? We won’t have the chance to walk through the routine on that site, but I can talk you through it on the phone if it comes to that. Essentially everything will be the same as here.”

“You can get all your cameras set up that fast?” Simon asked.

Travis gave a confident grin. “My crew is amazing. They love this work and bust their asses to make every event a success. The excitement of seeing the final payoff is like sex for them.”

Simon laughed.

“You watched our YouTube channel, right?”

“Shit yes. Those videos are awesome. I can’t wait to be a part of something like that.”

He pulled a sheet of paper out of a thick manila envelope. “If you really want to do this, here are the stipulations I mentioned in our phone calls.” He lay the sheet in front of Simon, who studied it intently. “First and most important is your silence on the subject until after we finish filming. Once we’re done, you can tell everyone you want and even mention it on social media. It’s good exposure for us. But until that day, there’s no telling your girlfriend, your parents, or your guy friends.”

Simon nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “I understand.”

“This is one of two stupid things that have blown our cover in the past. One guy couldn’t keep a secret and told his girlfriend what he was doing. It leaked and ruined the surprise. I was nice and let him keep the first third of the payment even though he’d signed a contract to agree to pay it back if he talked, but he lost out on the big payoff.” Travis lowered his chin and looked hard at Simon. “I know it’s hard, but our success is based on surprise. Any leaks ruin it. Not to mention I’m out the cost of setting everything up.” He paused. “Did you tell anyone you were meeting me today?”

“Hell no. You made the silence thing clear on the phone. I like your quality of work, and I want to be a part of it. I’m not going to screw that up.”

“Fantastic. A lot of blind trust goes into these things. Guys like you make it work.”

Simon beamed.

“I have a meeting later today with the client who hired us to create and film this one,” Travis lied. “I’m glad I can tell him I found the perfect actor for the part.”

“I’m thankful I saw the ad you put on the theater bulletin board at the school. I’m always checking it for extra work.”

“Yes, I find most of our actors through postings on online acting forums or an old-fashioned bulletin board. It seems all you guys are constantly looking for work.”

“Gotta eat.”

“The only other stipulation is your availability. This gig will happen in the next few days. Your schedule is clear, right?”

“Yes, it is. Summer session is over, and I haven’t lined up a job yet. Except for this one,” he joked. He signed his name to the agreement.

“Maybe we can use you for some other gigs if this one goes well.”

The young man’s eyes lit up. “That’d be so cool. I’ve spent hours watching your work. You said a network was interested?”

“I’ve been contacted by a producer who’s made some shows for Spike,” he lied, shrugging. “There’s always someone showing interest, but no one’s made an offer yet. That’s okay. We’ve got people buying ad space, which is how we make our money. I’ve talked to a few foreign producers, too. We’re huge in Germany.”

Simon looked ready to kiss his feet.

“Here’s one-third of the pay we talked about.” He handed Simon an envelope. “The rest on the day of the shooting, okay?”

“Absolutely. Can’t wait.”

“Let’s walk the scene, okay?” He stood and Simon nearly jumped out of his chair to join him.

Perfect. He’ll do whatever I ask that day.

They walked around the outside of the building. “The second time we had a production fail, the actor didn’t follow instructions and moved too soon. The scene got noisy and he came out of his hiding spot.”

“Oh, shit. Did that ruin the surprise?”

“Damn right. All that time and planning flushed down the sewer. The client was pissed and didn’t want to try it again on a different day. I didn’t blame him. When you’re attempting to stage an elaborate practical joke, timing is everything and you’ll never catch the subject off guard again. You get one chance. That’s it.”

“Will I have to improvise anything?”

“Probably not. We’ll run over all the possibilities so you’re comfortable. But the most important thing is for you not to get surprised and keep your cool. Did you watch the video with the fireworks?”

“Yeah, the one where the guy freaked out because someone was in the backseat of his car?”

“That’s the one. We always have fireworks handy in case we need to distract the subject. The target was about to spot the actor before it was time; the fireworks made him look the other way.”

“Genius.”

“Crap happens sometimes. The worst is when we set everything up, and the target doesn’t show. Most people are pretty predictable. They have a routine they like to follow and they stick to it. We do all the research we can so we know their typical movements, but there’s been a few times when we’ve been left hanging.”

“You follow them?” Simon asked, wrinkling up his brow.

“A little bit. I like to see how they move and what their habits are, but most of the information comes from the person who hires us to perform the gag,” Travis lied smoothly. “They know the target best and give us the background we need.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Simon, who declined. He lit up and relaxed as the nicotine hit his lungs. He was nearly confident that Simon would work perfectly for his next staging, but he still had some questions. He had to be certain he could trust the guy to keep his head down until the right moment. The videos on YouTube were pranks he’d staged with friends during college when they thought they were kings with their cameras and clever ideas. The videos were old, but people still watched them and, according to the comments on the videos, thought they were better than the prank shows on TV. Occasionally he thought about getting the group together and creating more, but right now this was much more satisfying.

“I’ve got some black athletic gear in my vehicle for you to wear. We’ll need you to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“Of course,” agreed Simon.

He smiled. The black Nike gear was the uniform he’d chosen for all his soldiers. To him it was anonymous and powerful, and represented stealth.

They stopped at the side of the coffee shop, and he pointed at some bushes lining the adjoining building. “That’s a perfect place for a camera. Maybe on the roof, too. I’ll have to talk to the owner to see how he feels about us getting on his roof, but either one will give us a good shot of the main entrance and this side door. The parking lot is good, too. We usually have a few cameras in vehicles with privacy glass.”

“What about inside?” Simon asked. “Starbucks lets you position and hide cameras?”

“Nah, when it’s a big chain like this, I don’t ask. I’ve tried that route with other companies, and our requests have to go up to their corporate office and then it just gets complicated. Instead I’ll have my guys inside with discreet cameras, and we’ll warn the employees a minute before we start that we’re filming a prank or a surprise for someone so they don’t interfere. I have one guy whose sole job is to keep the employees and customers from interfering. Usually have to edit him out in production because there’s always someone who tries to get involved, and he’s caught on camera holding them back and rapidly explaining what’s going on.”

“That sucks.”

“That’s his job. Can’t blame people who jump into action if they think something bad is going down. Some of our pranks can really freak out bystanders. You need to be prepared if people start screaming or laughing too loud. You can’t let it draw you out of hiding.”

Simon nodded seriously. “No way.”

“One time—”

“Excuse me, sir? You can’t smoke out here.” A tall female in a green Starbucks apron spoke behind him.

He turned around, the cigarette limp in his mouth. “I’m sorry?”

She smiled. “You can’t smoke right outside restaurants.”

Rage swamped him and he could barely speak. “I know the law. I’m way more than ten feet from the entrance.”

Her gaze did the expected scar bounce, and then she pointed at the side door directly behind him. “But you’re not ten feet from that one. And our air system sucks in from over here. We can smell it inside.”

He plucked the cigarette from his lips, holding her gaze.
Don’t tell me what to do.
Her smile faltered. He dropped the cigarette and ground it against the concrete with his shoe. Her gaze dropped to the movement and she scowled.
That’s right, bitch. You can clean it up.

“Sorry about that. I forgot about the other door,” he replied.

She glanced at Simon. “Not a problem.” Her ponytail bobbed as she spun around and went back to the front entrance.

He watched her leave, and his empty fingers ached to touch the vulnerable skin of her neck. And squeeze. He’d spin her to face him as he tightened his grip on her neck, as her eyes bulged in fear and her mouth gaped in horror. Make her pay for her arrogance. Make her look into his eyes as he brought her pain. Or see her skull explode in a red mist.

“Hey. You okay?” Simon asked.

He jerked, turning back to Simon, forgetting the man was still there. “Yeah, she was something, huh?”

“Great ass,” he replied.

He stared through the glass of the coffee shop, spotting the young woman talking to two other employees and gesturing toward him and Simon in disgust.

I hope you’re here on Simon’s special day, bitch. You just got your name on a list.