One of Us Is Next(70)
Ahmed frowns. “I don’t know what that means.”
“You know—focused. Serious,” Knox says. “Like he’s got a one-track mind.”
One of the babies at the mom table starts flat-out wailing, and Ahmed tugs at his shirt collar. “Look, I have to put in their order, okay? Be back in a minute.”
He hurries away and I turn to Knox, confused. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because that description Ahmed just gave reminds me of someone I’ve seen here before.” Knox turns to Maeve and taps her arm. “You remember that guy who came in a while back? The one who was a dick to Mr. Santos and kept asking about Phoebe? The one Luis and Manny chased off?”
“I’m sorry, what?” I burst out. “When did this happen?”
“I remember,” Luis says. “It was a few weeks ago, wasn’t it?” He leans back in his chair, arms folded, and Maeve sneaks a glance at him with color rising in her cheeks. She looks like she just completely lost track of the conversation. I’m tempted to snap my fingers in her face and remind her that she’s supposed to be worrying about me right now, not staring at Luis’s admittedly nice biceps. Priorities.
“Yeah. I didn’t think much of it at the time,” Knox says, looking apologetic. “I thought it was just some jerk, but he came back a couple nights ago. Here, I mean. Ordered a coffee, sat around, then left without drinking it. I started wondering if it was maybe Derek, trying to find you because you’re ignoring his messages.”
I glare at him, hands on my hips. “Why are you just telling me this now?”
“I haven’t been thinking straight,” Knox says defensively. “I have a concussion.”
“You had a concussion. Two weeks ago.”
“The effects can linger for years,” Knox informs me. He drums his fingers on the table. “Besides, I wasn’t sure it meant anything. But do you think it might be him? Is Derek a tall, pale, brown-haired guy?”
“Yeah, he is.” I say. “I personally wouldn’t describe him as intense-looking, but to each their own, I guess.” Maeve hands the note back to me, and I stuff it into my pocket, my mind spinning. Would Derek really do this—show up at my job and leave a threatening note just because I’ve been ignoring his Instagram messages? He never acted aggressive or possessive around Emma. As far as I know, anyway.
“Who’s Derek?” Luis asks.
All I can think is thank God he’s out of the gossip loop. It gives me hope that there’s life after Bayview High that doesn’t include ongoing, detailed analysis of everybody’s worst mistakes. “Long story,” I say, “but he’s someone I’ve been blowing off lately.”
“Do you have a picture of him?” Luis asks. “We all saw the guy. We could tell you whether it’s him or not.”
“Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” Maeve asks. Luis smiles, and she gives him another lingering look that, in my opinion, answers the question.
“No,” I say. “I mean, I can look him up right now but he never posts pictures of himself…” I take out my phone, open Instagram, and pull up Derek’s profile to see if he’s updated it recently. His entire feed is still nothing but animals, food, and artsy pictures of tree branches. I show it to Knox, who makes a face.
“No selfies? What kind of weirdo is he?” Then he glances at the clock on the wall, which Mr. Santos finally fixed. “Callahan Park is in Eastland, right? We could make it there before five thirty if we leave now.”
“I’m not meeting him!” I protest, but Knox holds up a placating hand.
“I don’t mean that. But maybe we can, like, spy on him. See if it’s Derek. Then you can report him for harassment or something.” He pulls out his wallet and removes a few bills, putting them on top of the twenty that’s already on the table. “We could go to my house first and grab my binoculars so we don’t have to get close.”
“Binoculars?” I’m almost distracted for a second. “What do you have those for?”
Knox looks mildly baffled. “Doesn’t everybody have binoculars?”
“No,” Maeve and I say at the same time.
Luis’s brow furrows. “You think that’s a good idea? This guy is practically stalking you, Phoebe. Maybe you should tell the police, let them handle it.”
“But I don’t know for sure if Derek wrote the note,” I say. “His Instagram messages were a lot more polite.” I turn to Maeve. “Can you drive us?”
She twists her dark hair over one shoulder and nods. “Yeah, of course.”
“I’ll come with you,” Luis says instantly. “It’s quiet here, I can leave.”
“Okay,” I say, trying not to sound as relieved as I feel. I love Knox and Maeve, but they’re not exactly my first picks as backup if anything goes wrong. Whoever this guy is, Luis scared him off once, and I’m pretty sure he can do it again. “It’s a plan, then. Let’s do a little stalking of our own.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Maeve
Thursday, March 26
“This is pointless,” Phoebe grumbles. “I can’t see anything.”