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When she was younger, when feelings and pressures built up inside of her until there was nowhere for them to go, often all it took to ease her was a tiny cut.
The first one had been an accident. Gabrielle had been paring an apple at one of her foster homes when the knife slipped and cut into the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb. It hurt a little, but as her blood pumped out, a rivulet of glossy bright crimson, Gabrielle hadn't felt panic or fear.>"No, not yet." She patted the camera case that hung from her shoulder. "I thought I'd walk over to the Common, maybe burn a little film for a while. You?"
"David's due back from Atlanta in about an hour," he said, smiling. "I'm playing hooky for the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow, too."
Gabrielle laughed. "Give him my best."
"I will." He leaned in and bussed her cheek. "It's good to see you smiling again. I was really worried about you after last weekend. I've never seen you so shook up. You're gonna be all right, right?"
"Yes. I'm fine, really."
"And you have Detective Dark-and-Sexy looking after you now, so that's not half bad."
"No. That's not bad at all," she admitted, warmed again just thinking about him.
Jamie embraced her in a brotherly hug. "Well, honey, if there's anything you need that he can't give you - which I highly doubt - you just give me a call, you understand? I love you, sweetie."
"Love you, too." They separated as a taxi pulled up to the curb. "Have fun with David." She lifted her hand to wave goodbye as Jamie climbed into the cab and the car eased back into the busy lunchtime traffic.
It took only a few minutes to walk the handful of blocks from Chinatown to the park at Boston Common. Strolling along the expansive grounds, Gabrielle snapped off a few photographs, then paused to observe a group of children playing blindman's bluff in a grassy picnic area. She watched the girl in the center of the game, eyes covered with a blindfold, her blond pigtails bouncing as she spun first one way, then another, her hands outstretched as she tried to tag her dodging friends.
Gabrielle lifted her camera and lined up a shot of the darting, giggling kids. She zoomed in, following the fair-haired girl's blindfolded face with her lens, hearing the peals of laughter that fell from the children's lips and carried across the park. She didn't take any pictures, just watched the carefree play from behind her camera and tried to remember a time when she might have felt so content and secure.
God, had she ever?
One of the adults supervising the kids from nearby summoned them to lunch, breaking up their raucous game. As the children dashed over to the picnic blanket to eat, Gabrielle swung her camera's focus back across the Common. In the blur of movement through the lens, she glimpsed someone looking back at her from within the shade of a large tree.
She brought her camera away from her face and glanced to where a young man stood, partially concealed by the trunk of the old oak.
He was an unremarkable presence in the busy park, albeit a vaguely familiar one. Gabrielle noted his mop of ashy brown hair, his drab button-down shirt and standard-issue khaki pants. He was the type of person who'd blend in easily in a crowd, but she was certain she'd seen him somewhere recently.
Hadn't he been at the police station last weekend when she'd given her statement?
Whoever he was, he must have realized she'd spotted him because he pulled back suddenly and ducked around the back of the tree to begin heading out of the park toward Charles Street. He dug a cell phone out of his pants pocket, then threw a glance over his shoulder at her as he strode at a fast clip toward the street.
The back of Gabrielle's neck tingled with suspicion and a sinking feeling of alarm.
He had been watching her - but why?
What the hell was going on here? Something was definitely up, but she wasn't about to stand around and guess at it any longer.
With her eyes trained on the guy in khakis, Gabrielle started after him, stuffing her camera back into its case and shrugging the straps of the small padded backpack up onto her shoulders as she walked. The kid was ahead of her about a block by the time she cleared the park's wide lawn and stepped onto Charles.
"Hey!" she called after him, breaking into a jog.
Still on his phone, he pivoted his head to look at her. He said something urgent into the receiver, then flipped the cell closed and fisted it in his hand. Turning away from her, his quick pace became a full-on sprint.
"Stop!" Gabrielle shouted. She drew the curious attention of other people on the street, but the kid continued to ignore her. "I said stop, damn it! Who are you? Why are you spying on me?"
He tore up crowded Charles Street, vanishing into the sea of strolling pedestrians. Gabrielle followed, dodging tourists and office workers on lunch break, her eyes fixed on the bobbing bulk of the kid's backpack. He turned down one street, then another, wending deeper into the city, away from the shops and businesses on Charles and back toward the tightly clustered area of Chinatown.
She didn't know how far she'd tracked the kid, or even where exactly she'd ended up, but all of a sudden she realized she'd lost him.
She spun around near a busy corner, utterly alone, unfamiliar surroundings closing in on her. Shopkeepers stared at her from under shaded awnings and doors left open to welcome the summer air. Passersby threw her annoyed looks as she stood stockstill in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the flow of foot traffic.
It was then she felt a menacing presence behind her on the street.
Gabrielle glanced over her shoulder and saw a black sedan with dark-tinted windows slowly moving between the other cars. It moved gracefully, deliberately, like a shark cutting through a school of minnows in search of better prey.
