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Across the campus, Luisa was taking advantage of sunny weather to study behind the dorm on a cement patio bench. When Cheryl Ford walked by Luisa checked her watch.
"Aren't you supposed to be running about now?"
"Yeah, but I'm laying out today. I pulled a muscle yesterday and I want to let it heal before I stress it too much. I should’ve known better—did something stupid."
"I thought you were the smartest, faster runner we ever had here. That's what Coach Perez says."
"Well, I ain't the smartest, and I may not be the fastest either. But don't tell anybody."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
"You know how, three days a week, your little friend Darcy goes running with me? Only we agreed to call her Ana now she's a sort of Hispanic, thanks to Mandy?"
"I thought you liked her."
"I do like her. She's sweet. I just can't outrun her. She said she didn't want to interfere with my routine, so she'd just tag along with me, take the pace off of me. So I went on a good run, ran seven miles, and there she is, stuck to me, hardly breathing.
“I think 'OK, girl, let’s pick it up a little bit,' and do three more miles. She’s still there, and that kinda bugs me. I mean, I'm not kind of any marathoner, but I can do long distances. So I push it up some more, and now I’m running too fast for a marathoner, really. I mean, I can only do it another mile or two.
“And when I finally stop, guess who’s still there like my shadow? Anyway, I pulled something, and I'm sore today, man."
"For real, Cheryl? I mean, you're going to that big NCAA meet next month. Everyone figures you'll win it. How can a little bitty Canadian stay up with you?"
"Girl, I don't know. But I'm glad she ain't no student here. I don't need her at that track meet!"
Luisa was still mulling over that bit of odd information later that evening in her room. Her desk was cluttered with folders and cut-out bits of pictures, advertisements, and headlines, as she glued up a couple of signs for the hallway.
What with being the resident assistant, she always left her door ajar during her "office hours" and kept the music low so she could hear the general energy level of the girls on that floor. One time, she had heard a puppy being kept in one girl's room.
Without looking up, she suddenly became aware that someone was standing behind her. It was Darcy, alias Ana, who had come in without making a sound. There was an empty look in her eyes, and she was hugging her backpack as if she was cold.
"Darcy? What's the matter?"
"They nearly caught me."
"Who nearly caught you?"
"I don't know—the people who are chasing me. One of them found me, I don't know how, and tried to get close to me. I ran."
"Are you all right? Who was it? What did he look like?"
"I'm OK. But he scared me."
She looked so forlorn Luisa hugged her.
"Sit down. Tell me what happened."
"I was walking downtown, and a man asked me if he could ask me some questions."
"And then what happened?"
"Nothing. I ran away."
"Did he chase you?"
"I don't think so. I didn't see him if he did."
"What did he look like?"
"Well, he was taller than you. But not as tall as Cheryl. He wasn't fat. He wasn't skinny. He had black hair."
"Did he have a beard? What about his clothes?"
"No beard, no mustache. He had khaki pants, and I think a blue shirt."
"No coat? No tie? No uniform?"
"No."
"Did he have a car?"
"Yes," she nodded imperceptibly. "I think it was a pickup. He drove away in it. It was red, with big gray spots."
"Are you sure? Was it a faded red?"
"Yes."
"I think I know who that was! He's a reporter for the Avalanche! I know him!"
"You do? Is he a bad man?"
"No, he's not a bad guy. He's a pretty good guy. I went out with him a couple times."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It just didn't work out. Darcy, I don't think he was trying to capture you. I don’t know why he would want to ask you anything, but I'm sure there's a good explanation. Tell you what: give me a couple days to find him and see if I can learn what he was up to. In the meantime, don't worry about it. Just keep laying low and I'm sure you'll be fine. OK?"
"OK. If you say so. Thanks, Lou."
She looked so fragile that Luisa almost hugged her again, but she let her walk out. She was thinking about Matt Méndez. How odd that it should have been Matt to have so frightened poor Darcy.
She knew Matt fairly well, and she liked him. He wasn’t like most of the younger single men in Alpine, obsessed with trucks, cowboy activities, drinking, and sports. She’d literally bumped into him at a play, The Heidi Chronicles, for heaven’s sake, which he’d actually read somewhere. His observations about the play turned into a discussion which became their first date.
But it was not to be. He was a little too old. Still, he made a good friend if not a boyfriend. Good friends were rarer than boyfriends, really. He was a decent guy, not the sort to hassle an attractive young woman.
So why would he single out a young, anonymous girl to ask questions of? He was a little awkward around women, but not that clumsy. True, she and Cheryl knew there was something odd—intriguingly odd, really—about Ana. She'd have to think of a way to find out without spilling Darcy's secret, if she could. Matt was plenty smart, but he could be flustered.
Come to think of it, maybe flustering him was the best way to handle him.
