She was disappointed when the movie came to an end, even though he showed no signs of releasing his grip on her hand. And she was more than a little embarrassed to realize that she’d barely paid attention to the show at all. She’d had other, more interesting, things on her mind. She desperately hoped that Jay didn’t ask her any questions about the movie she was supposed to have watched.
They saw Amanda’s little group on their way out to the parking lot, but this time Jay barely acknowledged them, simply nodding his head in their direction as they passed. Violet was aware of the looks exchanged by the three girls as they made it clear that they’d noticed he was holding her hand.
Jay must have seen it too, because he gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.
It made Violet curious about all the times that she thought Jay was completely clueless about the attention he’d been getting from the girls at school. She wondered if he was more aware than he let on about how much interest he’d stirred in the female population at White River High.
And then her blood ran cold as another thought occurred to her. If he wasn’t entirely ignorant about what he was doing to the other girls, what did he know about her own thoughts and fantasies? Could he possibly suspect how she really felt about him? Was she as transparent as Amanda and the other girls at school had been?
That would be terrible! Violet thought miserably. She was going to have to be more careful around him and stop obsessing over him like one of his little groupies.
She decided that, from this point on, despite the fact it was something she desperately wanted, she couldn’t risk ruining what they had. Their friendship, which had been a part of her life for almost as long as she could remember, was far too important to her to do anything that might jeopardize it.
She pulled her hand away from his, feeling suddenly decisive and strong. But it turned out to be less a show of resolve than she’d meant it to be, considering that they’d reached the car and she would have had to let go anyway. Jay opened the passenger-side door, and she slid inside.
She looked down at her hand, which was still warm from his touch, and she could already feel herself missing the contact with him. She didn’t entirely understand the sense of loss she felt about something that she’d never really had in the first place.
Besides, Violet thought, she had more important things to worry about right now.
She needed to find the killer, to stop him before he could hurt anyone else.
How was she ever going to do that if she was too busy crushing on her best friend?
CHAPTER 11
SUNDAY, VIOLET AND JAY SPENT MOST OF THE DAY at the local mall. They wandered in and out of the stores, had lunch at the food court, and even spent some time playing video games in the arcade, which, as it turned out, was more for Jay’s benefit than for hers. She was so terrible at all of the games she tried that she’d spent ten dollars in less than ten minutes. Jay was still on his first two quarters by the time she was finished.
She decided that she couldn’t afford to spend too much time in the arcade.
Violet stood beside the game Jay was playing-very well, she had to admit-and she looked around her. The electronic sounds of the games were almost deafening, especially to someone who was so hyper-aware of her senses. But Violet already knew that the man she was looking for wasn’t here. It would have been easy for her to spot the radiant imprint she was looking for, especially in the dark confines of the arcade.
She looked back to the video game monitor and tried to feign interest in what was happening on the screen, but soon she was bored, and she decided she would rather wait for Jay in the mall. He didn’t look up from what he was doing long enough to notice that she was leaving.
She left the sensory overload of the arcade behind her as she stepped into the wide-open space of the atrium. They’d already had lunch, and Violet had no desire to eat again, so instead she started to wander the storefronts near the food court.
She glanced around her. The mall was crowded, and there were lines at several of the eateries. Women with toddlers and preschoolers in tow converged on the McDonald’s. The smells from the different fast-food restaurants, all lingering together, were strong but not entirely unpleasant.
And then she noticed something strange.
Suddenly it wasn’t the smells that Violet was acutely aware of but rather the taste. She had the strangest sensation of garlic in the back of her mouth…it was pungent and thick, and nearly overpowering.
This was it. This might be the something she’d been looking for.
An echo of some sort.
Violet looked around her, trying to imagine where it might be coming from, but there was really only one way to be sure.
She started walking, leaving the food court behind her and moving farther into the mall. When the pungent taste grew stronger, Violet knew she was heading in the right direction.
Her heart rate increased and her other senses heightened as she looked around her, wondering if she might be walking right toward the killer. She was terrified and at the same time exhilarated. She knew Jay would be mad at her for wandering off.
She reached the end of the offshoot of the mall that housed the food court and arcade, and met the larger inner space of the shopping center, where big department stores dwarfed the outlets and boutiques. She had to decide which way to go now.
She chose to go left and found herself heading toward two of the larger department stores. It seemed like a fine choice, a busy section of the mall, but after walking past several stores she knew she’d picked the wrong direction. The garlicky taste in her mouth began to fade. She turned around and headed back in the opposite direction.
She passed her starting point and kept going, moving toward Sears and Macy’s. She concentrated on the sensation inside of her mouth, savoring the garlicky flavor…not because she enjoyed the taste, but because it was acting like a compass…guiding her way.
The taste grew stronger, and more tangible, the farther she walked. Her pulse quickened and her breathing began to feel hoarse and erratic. She looked everywhere, at everyone, trying to decide who it might be…where the echo, or imprint, was coming from. She had to weave around mothers pushing strollers and couples holding hands.
And then, without warning, the taste began to fade again, and Violet felt herself spiraling into a frustrated panic. She stopped right where she was, in the middle of the mall, in the middle of the heavy pedestrian traffic, looking around her for a clue as to where she should go next. A shopper passed her, bumping Violet with the overflowing shopping bags that hung from her arms. Violet ignored the woman.
She walked back the other way, trying to recapture the taste.
When she did, it only grew stronger for several long strides, before disappearing again.
Violet watched the people around her, trying to see where he was…and just who he might be. But there were so many people, moving in so many directions, that she couldn’t tell who it was coming from. She glanced at the nearest stores and tried approaching each of them, one at a time, but the taste only faded when she did.
He wasn’t in the stores. So where was he, then?
She turned around, feeling waves of disappointment washing over her, and just when she decided that she might have to give up, the taste hit her again…stronger than before. And she realized that he had to be close.
That was when she noticed it…the long, narrow hallway leading off the main drag of the mall, with the sign hanging above the entrance that read RESTROOMS.