Alix realized her heart was still pounding. Everything about the moment felt electric. She had an almost overwhelming urge to come around the island. To walk up to him—
“You need to go,” she said abruptly. “I need you to leave.”
Before I do something even more stupid.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He didn’t respond. Just ran his hand across the granite countertop, not seeming to listen. “You talk to your father?” he asked. “You ask him what this is all about?”
“He doesn’t know. He said you’re an animal rights activist.”
He grinned. “Surprised he didn’t just go straight for terrorist. It’s a better PR smear these days.”
“My dad doesn’t smear people.”
“For free.”
“What?”
“ ‘My dad doesn’t smear people for free.’ That’s what you should have said. He smears plenty of people, but he doesn’t do it unless it’s worth money to him.”
“I don’t know who you think—”
“You don’t have any idea what your dad does, do you?” His tone had sharpened and become accusatory. “You don’t know where this nice house comes from. You don’t know how many bodies you’ve got buried in the basement. You don’t have any idea where all your money comes from.”
“I want you to leave.”
“So scream.”
She glared at him. “Why are you going after my family?”
“You really haven’t figured it out?” He laughed. “I mean, I knew your old man was good at PR, but I didn’t think he’d even lie to his own daughter.”
Alix felt her anger rising. “Cut the mind games. If you’ve got something to say, say it. No more of your Mr. Mysterious bullshit. Just say it.”
He turned serious. “That how you want to play it?”
“Yeah,” she said, glaring. “That’s how I want to play it.”
“Okay.” He blew out his breath. “This is payback, Alix. Everything that’s coming down on your dad is payback for everything he’s ever done to all the people he’s ever done it to.”
“So what do I have to do with that? I haven’t done anything.”
“Yeah. That’s true.” He was nodding in agreement, staring down at the surface of the counter that separated them, looking almost guilty. “You’re just the wrong person in the right place at the right time.” He looked up. “Then again, none of us get to choose the right place, do we? We just get what we get, and sometimes it turns out we’re just collateral damage.”
There was a long pause as they both studied each other.
“I think our truce is over,” Alix said, finally.
All the play had gone out of his expression as well. “Maybe we never had one,” he said.
He was out the door and enveloped in darkness before she could decide if she should scream or not.
9
“YOU’VE GOT A BODYGUARD?” CYNTHIA asked Alix, disbelieving.
Alix shook her head tiredly. “Yeah.”
Seitz had reopened, and life had returned to a strange semblance of normal, except that Animal Control was still roaming the campus in pursuit of white lab rats; the science building still showed evidence that 2.0 had been there, despite the best efforts of the custodial staff; and Alix’s dreams were haunted by the merry prankster, whom she was pretty sure she was at war with. Even though she couldn’t quite bring herself to hate him. Even though he seemed hell-bent on doing something horrible to her.
Maybe I have Stockholm syndrome, she thought.
She’d spent the last couple of days wrestling with the question of whether she could tell anyone at all that she’d let 2.0 into her house (her house!) and concluded that her own Teflon reputation as the responsible child of the family wouldn’t survive it.
She did mention that she thought she’d seen someone lurking in the backyard. That was enough to send Williams & Crowe into a new tizzy of paranoia that had also resulted in a new home lockdown policy, as well as the every-waking-minute bodyguard situation that now plagued her life.
Cynthia listened to Alix’s woes as she ate french fries and complained that she was going to break out if she ate any more oily things, and then ate another fry.
“You’re making up that thing about the bodyguard,” Cynthia accused as she eyed another greasy stick of potato.
“I wish,” Alix said. “Check out the teachers’ table.”
Cynthia craned her neck, “I don’t—Wait, that blond lady? She doesn’t look like much of a bodyguard.”
And she didn’t. That was what Dad had said made Lisa perfect. She was a stealth pit bull, he claimed. No one would see her coming. All the guys in school might check out Lisa’s tight butt, but nobody would guess she was dangerous. In Alix’s mind, Lisa wasn’t so much a stealth pit bull as a Death Barbie, and, unfortunately, Death Barbie seemed mostly bent on screwing with Alix’s daily life.
The woman was perky and clean-cut, with straight, bobbed blond hair and a pixie, freckled face. She could have been a cute substitute teacher. If Alix had run into Lisa at a Starbucks, she would never have guessed that the lady also happened to be carrying a 9mm handgun. Alix idly wondered if the school guessed, either. She suspected not. Seitz had rules, after all. The administrators might let Lisa stalk her on campus, but they’d probably shit bricks if they knew Death Barbie was packing heat.
“She’s really guarding you?” Cynthia asked. “How come she’s sitting so far away?”
“She doesn’t have to be very close to shoot someone, I guess.”
“She’s got a gun?”
Alix smirked, feeling weirdly proud of the knowledge, even as she felt annoyed at being stalked everywhere. “Yeah. I saw it. She’s got it in that cute little Indian-print purse.” Alix tried to remember what Jonah had said about the gun when Lisa showed it to him, along with the telescoping club she carried, and her zip cuffs, and her Mace, and her Taser…
“A Glock,” Alix said. “She’s carrying a Glock. And a lot of bullets. Like, seventeen shots or something insane like that.”
Death Barbie was sitting at the teachers’ table, looking like no one in particular. Eating a salad and talking pleasantly to Ms. Liss, not showing a single clue that she had enough firepower on her to turn the dining hall into national news.
“She’s definitely subtle,” Cynthia said as she gave up on her fries and shoved the tray away. “Ugh. I can’t eat any more of these. They make me feel gross.”
“You want my bread?”
Cynthia made a face. “God, no. I can’t stand the smell of that stuff.”
“Seriously? I thought everybody liked fresh-baked bread.”
“Fresh-baked is the worst. I hate that smell.” Cynthia wrinkled her nose. “There’s a bakery near my house. I smell it at 4 AM whenever the wind’s blowing our way. It’s like being smothered in yeast.”
“Ew. Seriously?”
“Yeah.” Cynthia gave a self-conscious laugh. “I think it’s some housewife who got a hobby and then it took off. Now it’s killing property values. I swear I’m going to buy nose plugs.” She changed the subject. “Oh, look, your bodyguard is watching you.”
“Yeah?” Alix glanced over her shoulder, but Lisa had already looked away. Death Barbie was subtle, that was for sure. If Alix hadn’t known about Lisa, she would have blown the woman off easily. Just another teacher, maybe a sub, anything except a “security specialist” from Williams & Crowe.
All through the first half of the day, Lisa never really came close to Alix. She was just… around. Watching. Eyeing everybody and everything. Even now it was happening. She could see it happening, if Alix watched long enough. Lisa was talking to Liss, but the bodyguard wasn’t looking at Liss. Lisa’s eyes kept moving across the dining hall, scanning all the time. She wasn’t looking at Alix; she barely ever looked at Alix. She was always looking at everyone else—all the people all around Alix. All the people who came close.