“Excuse me,” Shahla said, stopping him in mid-stride. “Do you know of a townhouse development called something like Ocean Pacific?”
The man, who was dressed in sweats, stopped his forward progress and ran in place as he thought. “How about Peaceful Ocean? It’s just a few blocks from here.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Go up this street and take the second left. It’s quite big. You can’t miss it.” He took off in an easy lope.
“Thanks,” she called after him. Shahla took one more look up the street before she started to walk along it. The coast was clear. As soon as that thought entered her head, it occurred to her where it had originated. The seacoast. Idioms, expressions, sayings, words, and their meanings-all fascinated her.
But she had to concentrate on the present. The two blocks went fast and soon Shahla was walking roughly north again on the cross street in this relatively level part of the city. A few blocks more and she could see a sign at the entrance to a residential development. Please let it be Peaceful Ocean, she prayed. She hadn’t prayed since her father had died.
As she approached, she could make out the letters. Peaceful Ocean. Thank God. Shahla turned into the entrance road and was faced with a number of almost-identical townhouses. Which one was it? She looked to the left and the right and realized that there might be a hundred of them.
She remembered Joy’s description-the pool was in its front yard. Where was the pool? Not in sight so it must be in the center of the complex. She continued on the entrance road, which went between groups of the homes.
She heard a car engine behind her. It was probably a resident, but she turned around to make sure. Her breath caught in her throat. It was him. Panic overcame her. She ran. When she passed the first row of buildings, she looked to the right. There was an open grassy area. She looked to the left. She saw the pool.
Shahla ran toward the pool on the sidewalk. The road didn’t go in that direction. After a few seconds, she heard footsteps running behind her. She ran like she had never run before. As she approached the fenced-in pool, she realized that three units qualified as “having the pool in its front yard,” and they were at the other end of the pool from her.
Would he dare follow her that far? She ran past the pool. The footsteps were gaining on her. Three houses. Which one was it? She didn’t have a clue. She ran up two steps to the door of the first one and knocked loudly. She turned her head and saw him a few feet away. He had stopped.
If nobody answered, Shahla was sure he would try to grab her. She leapt off the steps and ran through a small garden area to the second house, trampling flowers. She jumped onto its steps and knocked on that door. Then she continued through another garden to the third house and did the same.
Again she turned and faced her would-be kidnapper. He had retreated a few feet but was still near the first door. It hadn’t been opened. Uncertain now, Shahla stayed on the steps of the third townhouse. What if none of them were home? Would she end up running around the pool with him chasing her?
She planned to beg for help from the person who opened the first door-whether it was Tony or not. The door in front of her opened. It was a middle-aged woman.
“I need your help…” Shahla began, and then she saw the second door open. It was Tony. “Tony, thank God,” she cried. She jumped off the woman’s steps and ran over to Tony. At least she remembered to use the sidewalk instead of the flower garden. She leapt up his steps and into his arms.
CHAPTER 33
To say that Tony was surprised to find Shahla in his arms would have been the understatement of the century, but before he could say anything she cried, “That man is trying to kidnap me.”
She pointed past the pool where the running form of a man was visible, heading at top speed away from them.
“I’m going to get him,” Tony said, releasing her. He jumped off the steps, but as soon as he landed, his face contorted in pain, and he almost fell. He let out a yell and croaked, “I forgot about my damn knee.”
He grabbed the knee and stood bent over. All they could do was watch as the man, now some distance away, reached his car and got into it. A few seconds later, the car disappeared behind the buildings of Peaceful Ocean Townhomes.
As Tony turned to hobble back up the steps, he saw his neighbor watching them with her mouth open. “It’s okay, Muriel,” he called to her. “Everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Do you want me to call the police?”
“We’ve got it under control. We’ll handle it.”
Muriel looked dubious, and she continued to watch them as Tony herded Shahla into the house, limped in behind her, and closed the door.
“She’s a busybody,” he said. “This will be all over the development by tomorrow.” Before he could say anything more Shahla came into his arms again and started crying on his shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asked, awkwardly, as he could feel her body racked with big sobs. She couldn’t talk, so he just stood and held her, forgetting about the pain in his knee. At least she was alive and in his arms. He was thankful for that.
Several minutes passed before Shahla could say anything. When she had calmed down a little, Tony led her to the couch in the living room and sat her down. Then he got her a glass of water. He coaxed the story of the attack out of her.
“Did you recognize him?” Tony asked when she told about the man getting out of the car.
“No. He was wearing a baseball cap. I never got a good look at his face.”
“Like the Chameleon. How big was he?”
“Tall-and fairly thin-but he has a strong grip.”
Shahla showed Tony what looked like a burn mark around her right wrist, which she had received when she pulled free of him.
“Your hands are cut too.”
“I hit a car when he tried to get me the second time.”
“My God. How many times did he attack you?”
“Three, including just now.”
“Jesus. But that doesn’t sound like a description of the Chameleon. He’s short, and I wouldn’t credit him with a lot of strength, in spite of his job as a security guard.”
Shahla was talking more freely now. The words tumbled out as she told the rest of the story. But she told it backwards, and it took Tony a while to figure out that the attack had started near her house.
“So you were home,” he said. “Have you talked to your mother?”
“My mother isn’t home.”
“No, she’s with her sister in Carlsbad.”
“She didn’t leave me a note.”
“We’d better call and let her know you’re all right,” Tony said. “Then we have to go to the police.”
Tony was still confused about what had happened to Shahla, but he could sort out the facts later. He had the number of Rasa’s sister written down. Rasa and Kirk were staying with her sister because she was too freaked out by Shahla’s disappearance to remain in her own house. He called that number. A woman answered who sounded something like Rasa. Tony asked for Rasa. The woman asked who was calling. Tony said, “Tell her it’s Tony.”
“Tony?” Rasa said, emotion in her voice. “What is happening?”
“Shahla’s safe.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She repeated the word “wonderful” several times, her voice breaking. Finally, she asked, “Where is she?”
“She’s right here. I’ll let you talk to her.” Tony handed the phone to Shahla.
“Mom? I was worried about you. I went home, and you weren’t there.” Shahla was crying on the phone.
There had obviously been a royal mix-up. Rasa had driven to Carlsbad last night. The police hadn’t wanted her to go, especially in her distraught state, but she had said she couldn’t stay in her own house. But at least the police knew where she was. And she had left her sister’s number on Tony’s answering machine.