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Chapter 8
The third week of Orly’s adventure was when things took a drastic turn for the worse. Russell had not only put out an APB on her, he’d also frozen her bank account, and splashed her face on national news networks, claiming she was wanted by the Los Angeles Police for murder.
She had no idea how he managed to do those things, but now it didn’t matter how much money Orly had in the bank, since she no longer had access to those funds. She sold her car for half of what she’d bought it for, hoping that money would last until she could find a way to make more, but there weren’t many businesses hiring someone who wanted to be paid in cash and had no resume. Even with sleeping on buses or trains most nights, and eating peanut butter sandwiches made from dollar store white bread, and some version of tasteless peanut butter, Orly was barely three months into her Russell-free life, and she was already broke.
Sitting on a city bus in Virginia, somewhere near downtown Roanoke, Orly had barely enough money left for one more night at the cheap motel she’d stayed at last night. There was one bruised apple in her bag nestled among the few belongings she still had after someone had stolen most of her things while she slept on the train from Chicago to New York last week.
She looked around nervously, clutching the backpack she’d bought at a thrift store a few blocks away from Union Station. It was big enough to fit the few remaining things the thief left behind and some necessities she’d purchased there, with plenty of room left over. She didn’t need a lot, but losing her favorite mug a foster mom had given her on her sixteenth birthday and the small gold bracelet she’d bought with her first paycheck as a nurse had been hard.
Just thinking about that morning when she’d woken up to find her things gone made her eyes burn, but she pushed the feelings aside and clutched the backpack to her chest like an oversized pillow.
Looking around at the other passengers, Orly pushed her old glasses higher up the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t worn glasses since nursing school, preferring contacts, but after the photo Russell distributed to the media showed her without glasses, she immediately ditched the contacts and donned her old, but still good enough glasses.
Her gaze locked with an older woman who stared at Orly like she was trying to figure out where she’d seen her before. Orly swallowed, and turned as if to look out the window, carefully pulling the bill of her tan baseball cap down to shield more of her face. She didn’t know anyone in this city, and the last thing she needed was someone drawing attention to her. She’d tied her long curly hair into a bun at the nape of her neck since there was no way she could hide it all under the hat, and she wore an oversized dark hoodie to hide her small frame. But was it enough to keep people from recognizing her? She hoped so, since she had no other choice but to use public transportation.
Her plan tonight was to go to the public library and use their free internet to check on any updates into Russell’s investigation on her, and to hopefully find a job. She’d worked several jobs in the last few months, washing dishes, cleaning houses, walking dogs. But she had to leave all of them eventually when people started looking at her too closely or asking too many questions.But it had been too long since she’d last worked and she needed to find a way to make some money now.
Every plan Orly had when she’d left Russell and all the ones she’d come up with since had fallen through. The only good thing to come out of all this was her friendship with Luke. She hadn’t meant to stay in touch with him for this long, but their connection had only grown stronger over time and neither one of them seemed to mind the unconventionality of the whole situation.
He’d told her about his friends and shared his frustrations about not being able to identify a guy he saw in the warehouse. Orly was opening up more, too. She told him stories about growing up in the foster care system and how she’d met her ex in the emergency room when he’d come in with a lieutenant that needed stitches. She even told him about her favorite foster family that watched classic movies on a projector in their yard on the weekends, and her favorite foster mom who baked cookies everyday.
The only thing she didn’t tell him about was the dire straits she was in. She had a feeling Luke would drop everything and insist on coming to help her, but she didn’t want that. This was her life, and her problem, and she was determined to fix it on her own.
Being on the road was hard though. Not knowing where she was going to end up, and not trusting anyone around her was exhausting. She missed having her own car, and a place she could call home. She missed having her own bed, a closet where she could keep her things the way she liked them. And weirdly enough, she missed having a set of keys that softly jingled in her purse or pocket. There were times she’d lock herself in the stall of a public bathroom and just cry her eyes out because she felt so alone and so lost. Every face she saw was a stranger’s face and every day without fail, she’d hear a voice that sounded like Russell’s and her blood would run cold, freezing her on the spot until she saw it wasn’t him.
Orly had been in Virginia for three days now and while nothing bad had happened per se, she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. The feeling that someone was watching her weighed heavily on her, and she had no idea if it was all in her head or not. She wanted to move on, but she didn’t know where to go next. And there was also the small detail of being out of money.
A strange thought settled in Orly’s mind. More than a thought, it felt kind of like a vision, only she didn’t get those. And it wasn’t even her thought. It was the image of a woman walking down a dark road. She was alone, but she wasn’t asking for help. Orly wasn’t connected to the woman. Whoever was in Orly’s mind was the person watching the woman. Stalking her. Another image flashed in her mind of the same woman getting onto a bus and taking a seat by a window.
Orly gasped and stood so fast the man sitting next to her glanced up as if to ask if she was okay. She ignored him and glanced over her shoulder, not even trying to hide the fact that she was looking for whoever had obviously followed her from the motel to the bus stop. Her heart was in her throat, the pounding echoing in her ears, but all she saw was the top of someone’s head as they stepped off the bus and disappeared into the darkness as the bus pulled away from the curb.
Orly sank back into her seat, a fine sheen of cold sweat covering her forehead as she curled her fingers into tight fists. She didn’t know who he was, but she’d connected with him before. She’d foolishly hoped he’d forgotten about her and moved on, but clearly he hadn’t. Tears burned her eyes as realization struck just how close he’d been to her. She always thought of him as being somewhere out there. In another state. Another city. She never imagined he could get this close. After he first connected with her and she figured out he was a cold blooded murderer with no soul and no morals, she did everything she could think of to break their connection, but the guy just wouldn’t leave her alone. Why he kept connecting to her, showing her the evil thoughts in his mind, Orly had no idea. This was just the latest in a series of things he’d shown her and all of them were creepy images of him stalking or killing women. How had he found her and why was he following her now? Was she next on his list?
She closed her eyes, willing the connection to break. Even though he was off the bus, his thoughts were still on her and he was putting all his energy into making sure she knew it.
Her head started to pound from the onslaught of images he kept replaying in her mind. She instinctively brought her hands up to her head and gently massaged her temples. He had to breakaway soon or it felt like her head might implode. It never felt that way with anyone else. Only him. And then, just as quickly as the images came into her mind, they were gone, leaving a vacuum in their wake that made the pounding in her head recede just enough that she put her hands back on her lap.
She looked around to see if anyone noticed her odd behavior, but no one seemed to even be looking in her direction. Someone pulled the cord requesting a stop, and the doors opened at the next stop. A few people got off and Orly looked out the window, then quickly got up and rushed down the steps to the curb. The jerk had distracted her for so long she’d almost missed her stop.
Standing on the sidewalk, she waited for the bus to pull away, then looked across the street at the main branch of the Roanoke Public Library. The place was open until eight tonight, so she’d have a little over an hour to use the computer. She crossed the street and did her best to avert her eyes from the security guard sitting just inside the automatic sliding doors. When he didn’t even bother to glance up from the book he was reading, she continued on past the main desk and spotted the computer stations in the far corner. A few kids raced past her, beelining to the children’s section, and a frazzled mom did her best to catch up to them.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
Orly jerked her head to the woman wearing a bright red blouse and dark slacks. Her name tag read Martha, and the title of ‘head librarian’ was printed just below her name. Orly let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Orly turned her attention back to the computer stations, but Martha spoke again. “If you’re here for the event, it’s just about wrapping up so you might want to get in there before they close.”
Orly’s eyes widened. “Event?” It was then she noticed at least a dozen police officers standing against the back wall. They seemed friendly enough, talking amongst each other. One of them laughed, while another one checked his phone.
Martha smiled at her warmly. “The Roanoke Police Department’s annual book sale. We’ve raised so much money and it’s for such a great cause.”
Orly swallowed, her heart already starting to beat out of her chest at the thought of running into multiple police officers. “No, I just wanted to use the computers,” she explained.
“No problem,” Martha said. “You’ll need your I.D. or library card.”
Orly tensed. One of the police officers seemed to be looking right at her and she could swear he recognized her from the televised photo.
“Would you like me to help you?” Martha asked, drawing Orly’s attention away from the officer who seemed to be smirking at her.
