The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (22 page)

“Yeah, well, it makes me feel useful to help you once in a while.” Aimee held out the other foot for him to assist. “You know the doctor didn’t want you running for at least a month,” he said while he looped her laces into mommy’s knots.

“Well, I feel fine. And besides, if I don’t start running again, my rib won’t be the only thing wrong. I’m going nuts not running.”

“Like you weren’t already,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” Aimee popped him over the head with the paper sitting on the table. She grabbed the rest of her running gear, then hollered back to him, “I’ll take it easy. If I start hurting or get too winded, I’ll call you on your cell phone.”

She didn’t wait for another lecture before escaping out the back and stepping quickly to the front. The street was barren except for a couple cars parked along the curbside. Aimee took off on her usual route at a leisurely speed. Her muscles felt tight, and the pain in her chest throbbed only dully now when her breathing picked up, but it felt good to finally be using her legs again. Aimee decided to take it easy and not push herself the first morning out. Besides, the clouds were building rapidly, and it looked like rain was on its way.

After approaching the intersection, Aimee tapped the pedestrian signal and jogged in place while she waited. The light turned green and she broke out slowly across the pavement. She heard a car approaching from behind, and twisted back to see if they were turning in front of her. Aimee stopped dead in her tracks. The black Lexus pushed past her speeding through the intersection. She wasn’t able
to tell who was driving, but she was sure it was the same car.
She had a strange feeling about this.
Something didn’t feel right, so instead of going the same direction as the Lexus, Aimee veered off her regular route and headed east. The main drag didn’t have a lot of traffic this early so she stayed in the lane. About fifteen minutes into the run she hit her ceiling and decided to turn back. As she came
across the intersection to cut back west towards their subdivision, Aimee spotted
it
again. The black
Lexus was parked in front of a convenience store. But instead of being frightened, she was irked.
Really
pissed! She was beginning to feel like a victim; the black Lexus versus Aimee Schmidt.
Well,
I’m in public, and there’re others hanging out here, so now is a friggin’ good time to pay my stalker a
visit. I’ve gotta find out who’s in that car.
Shifting into a speedy walk, she started towards the Lexus.
From behind Aimee could make out a silhouette through the darkly tinted rear window, but she still couldn’t tell if the person was male or female. Just as she got about ten yards away from the car, it tore out into the street cutting off another car, then fishtailed and burned rubber as it peeled away. A customer walking out of the store stopped after witnessing the near mishap. He shook his head in disbelief. Aimee frowned at him, then turned and bolted back into action. The adrenaline dumped into her body, and she didn’t feel the ache in her chest any longer while she raced home. Aimee had her answer.
Whoever was in that mysterious black car
was
spying on her. But
who
was it…and
why
?

By the time she made it home, her lungs were exploding from the lack of oxygen. Aimee gasped for air. Dad heard her hit the porch and yanked open the doors. He took one look at Aimee, grabbed her arm, and helped her to the couch. He sat down next to Aimee and touched her clammy forehead. “Are you okay?”

She put up her finger to signal a pause, and sucked in a few deep breaths before she could speak. Her words came in spurts between more breaths. “I…think…someone is…following me...”

Dad’s mouth dropped, and then his eyes narrowed. “
Who
? What makes you think someone is
following you?”

“Don’t know who...that same black Lexus with dark windows…has been cruising by here…a lot…really slow…and, uh…parking down by the Nguyen’s…I…uh…I spotted it today down at the… minimart,” she spilled out, then drew one more deep breath, “…and when I started up towards it…it sped away. Almost hit a car…when it…when it left the parking lot.”

“Aimee, first you think someone broke into the house and stole your phone, and now this. Are you in trouble at school, or with someone at work?”

“No, Dad.” Aimee adamantly denied anything. How could he jump to that conclusion? She was a model student. A perfect employee. A super friend. The chameleon. “I have no idea who this is.” But the truth
was she
did
suspect who it was, she just had no way of proving it, at this point. Aimee didn’t want to
pull Dad into her juvenile high school drama with Brandi Peters.

“Well, dammit, I don’t like this, Aimee. Did you get a license plate?”

“Dad, I sorta thought it was a random thing, until today. When I got close enough I was trying to make out who was behind the wheel, then the car tore out of the lot, but I know it’s an Oregon plate.”

Dad sat staring at the window without saying a word. Aimee could tell he was processing her newest, little problem. Finally, he got up, looked at her with a frown and shook his head, then went to fetch her a glass of water. When he returned, he stopped at the end of the couch. “Well, if you see this car again, I want to know. Try to get the plate, but be careful.” His tone seemed a tiny bit more settled. He sighed heavily, handed Aimee the glass of water, rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, then walked over to the front window. He picked up a slat in the blind and peeked out.

“Dad, I doubt they're gonna show up here after being spotted.” Something stuffed in her dad's back pocket caught her attention. She asked, “Hey, what's that in your back pocket?”

He dropped the slat, then reached around his backside and pulled something from his jeans’ pocket. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I have a little something for you.” He handed it to Aimee. It was a slightly bent, official looking envelope. Her mind immediately shifted gears.

Aimee put the glass on the table and studied the envelope. “When did it come?” she asked.

A slight smile perked up Dad’s lips. “I picked it up from my box late last night after I dropped off Hannah. You were sound asleep.”

She looked at the sender and address on the envelope. The University of the Cascades, Office of Admissions. Aimee peered up at Dad. No evidence of worry remained on his face. He had a broad smile.

“Open it,” he said.

She stalled. “But what if it's not good news, Dad?”

Again he ordered, “Amos, just open it.”

She took a long breath, exhaled, then slid her finger cautiously under the sealed end and gently ripped the flap. A letter was folded neatly inside. Aimee opened it slowly and read the first sentence to
herself.
The University of the Cascades, Office of Admissions would like to congratulate you on your acceptance for the 2006 Fall Quarter in the College
… She didn’t finish the rest. Aimee screamed and
pitched the letter in the air, then jumped up and hugged her dad, ignoring any pain from the mending rib. He immediately returned a gentle squeeze.

“I knew you would get in. Never doubted it.”

All the thoughts of her earlier encounter with danger disappeared, and Aimee snagged the letter
from the floor. “I have to call Dylan,” she sang flying to her room. She hit
DT
on her phone and impa
tiently waited.

A couple seconds later his voice boomed through the receiver. “Hey, good morning, gorgeous. What’s up?”

Aimee cheerfully greeted, “Good morning back. Hey, guess what?”

“Uh, you’re madly in love with me, and you gotta have me now.”

“Dylan, stop messing with me. Yes, I’m insanely in love with you, and you
make me friggin’ crazy, but that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because I have some totally
awesome
news!”

“Okay. So what’s this totally
awesome
news?”

“I got my acceptance letter from UC this morning!”

Dylan exclaimed, “Woo hoo, I
knew
it! See I told you not to worry. All right, that’s so cool.
We’ll be together this fall in Eugene!”

“I know, that’s cool, isn’t it?” she said, her voice suddenly sounding a bit deflated.
“
Really
sweet.”

He paused for a couple seconds. “Hey, you don’t sound too excited about this. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m really excited about UC,” she said, trying to hide her tension.

“So what’s the matter then? I know there’s something bugging you.”

“Nothing really.”

“What does
nothing really
mean? There’s not a problem with us, is there?”

Dylan had already confronted Brandi about the phone calls. She denied any involvement. Aimee hadn’t shared her mystery stalker yet, nor the fact that she really didn’t believe Brandi. Of course Brandi wouldn’t admit to Dylan she was harassing Aimee, and Aimee didn’t really want Dylan to get in the middle of it. If her assumption about Brandi was correct, Aimee knew he would lose it with her. She had witnessed just how upset he got over a stupid love note, one of Brandi’s flimsy attempts to win Dylan back. Aimee hated keeping things from him, but he would find out about it soon enough.

“No, it’s nothing to do with us. We’re perfect. Everything is great. It’s just…well, I’ve had a small problem lately and it cropped up this morning so I’m a little stressed.”

“So are you gonna tell me? I might be able to help.”

Aimee hesitated, quickly weighing her options. Finally she decided to tell him. Maybe he had noticed the black Lexus around town, or knew who owned the mystery car. She needed to know who was out spying on her, and more importantly, why. Aimee asked trying to not sound too worried, “Dylan, do you know anyone with a black Lexus?”

“Yeah, you know Paul has one. Why?”

“Besides Paul. It’s a black sedan, not a SUV.”

“One of my mom’s friends has a white 430. Why, Aimee?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but I think someone is following me.”

Dylan’s voice changed abruptly. “
Following
you? What do you mean?”

Aimee attempted to soothe him. “It’s probably nothing, really.”

“Aimee, who’s following you?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. Their windows are so dark I can’t tell who is driving. I started seeing this car parked by my house a few weeks ago…”

He interrupted, “So, someone could have gotten a new car, or maybe someone is visiting.”

“I thought the same thing until this morning.”

“What happened this morning?” Tension spilled from his voice.

“I was on my run…”

Again he jumped in, diverting the story. “Your
run
? I thought the doctor didn’t want you run
ning yet?”

“I’m okay. I was fine running. No problems at all. The stalker is what upset me.”

He switched topics again. His voice jumped an octave higher.
“Stalker?”

“Yeah, my nickname for the creep in the Lexus.” She asked petulantly, “So, do you want to hear the rest of my story?”

“Sorry. Yes, go on.”

“Anyway, this stalker person blew through the intersection driving like a friggin’ maniac. They went by so fast I didn’t see who was driving, and barely had a chance to see the plates. It freaked me out so I veered off my route, and I got up to the minimart and there it is, like it’s waiting for me. Instead of feeling scared I got really pissed. So I decided to confront this weirdo, and as soon as I got close to the car they tore out of the parking lot driving like a freakin’ idiot. They almost creamed this little old man coming through the intersection.”

“Are you serious? Did you get a look at the driver before they got away?”

“Nope, the windows are too dark, and I was coming up from behind the car.”

“Well, what about the plates?”

“They sped away so fast, and I was completely focused on seeing the driver so I didn’t notice anything except it had Oregon plates.”

“At least that’s a start. Hey, doesn’t Mike know someone who works for Medford PD?”

“You mean Officer Woolsey?”

“Yeah, that’s the dude. Isn’t he the one who was working on who broke into your house?”

“Yes, but that’s a dead case. They couldn’t find enough evidence to pursue. And what would I tell him now, 'Some crazy stalker is parking his nice Lexus on our street, and I think he’s watching our house?' Dylan, this is just a gut feeling, nothing concrete. I only feel like someone is following me. I have no proof.”

“Well, I don’t want some sicko pervert harassing you. I’ll do some checking with Paul and
Mom to see if they know anyone with a black Lexus. Did you catch
any
numbers on the plate or
anything else unusual?”

“Nope, but I’m sure it’s a Lexus. Four doors with really dark tinted windows. Awesome car.” Aimee sighed heavily, not at all relieved Dylan felt obligated to do her detective work. It was probably her overactive imagination getting away from her, but then again, the anonymous phone calls had not
been a product of her imagination. Somebody
was
out to make her life miserable.

“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll find out who this asshole is.” Reassurance came across the phone in his now calmed voice.

In the short time their relationship had fused, the bond had deepened swiftly. It was strange just how fast their love had grown. Dylan’s feelings were evident in his reaction to anything that affected her. What made Aimee happy, delighted him. And what bothered her, troubled him terribly.

“Thanks, Dylan, but I really don’t want you worrying about this.”

“Hell, whoever messes with you, messes with me, too. If you leave it to the cops to figure it out it could be too late. Anyway, I’ll be by in about thirty minutes to pick you up. Okay?”