Kristi lowered her head to her laptop. Still wearing her baseball cap, her face partially hidden by the computer screen, she thought she might avoid being detected.

No such luck.

Just then Lucretia glanced away from the menu, zeroing in on Kristi. “You!” Lucretia gave up her position in line to stalk across the tiled floor, nearly knocking over the cart holding a display of Christmas mugs and coffees that were marked down to half price. The cups with Santa and Frosty on them wobbled and Lucretia righted them in time. “Are you following me?” Lucretia demanded.

“What? No. I’ve been here for half an hour.”

“You’re sure?” Lucretia asked, glancing over at Trudie and Zena who, engrossed in their own conversation, hadn’t yet noticed her.

“Pretty sure,” Kristi said dryly, more than a little annoyed. “I have called though. Left you two messages.”

“I know, I know. I—I’ve been busy. Look—” She placed her hands on the table in front of Kristi’s computer and leaned closer. “I made a mistake.” Her voice was a sharp, nearly inaudible whisper. “About those girls.”

“You mean Tara and—”

“Yes, yes!” she said emphatically. Her throat moved, as if she were swallowing hard. “I should never have told you about…about everything. I was wrong. Okay? I’m sure that all of the missing students will turn up eventually. When they want to. After all, they were all known runaways.”

“But you said that you knew them, they were your friends—”

“Not my friends,” she bit back. “I said I knew of them. And now I’m telling you I was wrong. So…just forget it. I made a mistake. You lived with a cop for a father. You know how they are. If there was really something criminal going on, the police would be all over it, so just drop it, okay? And…don’t call me anymore.”

“Are you all right?” Kristi asked.

Lucretia blinked. “Of course. Why?”

“You look pale.”

“Oh, God.” Lucretia gulped and stared at Kristi as if she’d seen a ghost. “So, what? Are you going to tell me I’m in danger? Like Ariel? She told me, y’know. Thinks you’re a flippin’ head case. What the hell is that all about?”

Inwardly, Kristi cringed. She knew she should have never confided in Ariel, figured it would come back to bite her. “Obviously, you and Ariel are close.”

“She knows you were my roommate, for Pete’s sake. I introduced you, remember? And then you act all weird. As if she’s in black and white.”

“Sometimes, I…” Oh, what was the use? How could she explain that there were times when people appeared colorless, as if they were drained of blood.

Drained of blood…