Stolen Thoughts

Chapter 1: Prelude Jessica Andrews felt no different today than she did yesterday, though today she had calculus. She hated calculus. She could never understand why she had to take a class that she knew was never going to be applicable in the real world – whatever her concept of the real world was. The fact that she was, by all accounts, beautiful, probably skewed her perception of reality as well. She was brought up silver spoon in hand and power at her feet. She had flowing red hair and a gorgeous physique that earned her the nickname of “Jessica Rabbit”. That alone was enough to cause a myriad of would-be suitors to lavish gifts upon her, if not for other ulterior motives. Though material wealth was at her beck and call, she was not without the knowledge that it came with a price. She watched her father spend long, sleepless nights perched above his desk like a cathedral gargoyle, cultivating the empire of influence that was now synonymous with her surname. Often times she had heard people refer to him as a granite demon on television or in the newspapers. She always thought they were making fun of his appearance; he had said it was because he was made of stone. Later, she learned he was closer to the truth in that it didn’t matter what they thought. If life as the daughter of one of the nation’s most powerful Congressmen has taught her anything, it was that it really didn’t matter one little bit what they thought. And since she didn’t care, she had no problem lying to her private protection detail when she met with her study group. In actuality, the study group itself was nothing more than a cover for a late-night rendezvous with her latest beau. If anything about their tryst could be considered studying, it would have to have been in the field of anatomy, despite neither of the parties involved being enrolled in said subject. At around eleven-thirty or so, Jessica thought it best to bid adieu to Scott. This was not only to avoid raising too much suspicion, but also happened to coincide with the premature arrival of Scott’s roommate. “Just wait a little bit and he’ll go to his own room,” he assured. “He can’t hear us from there.” “The walls are paper thin.” “Yeah, but he’s far enough away so it won’t matter.” “I’m going to have to take a rain check,” she protested. “Next time.” “Oh, come on. Can’t you stay just a little longer?” “I’d rather not chance it,” she said. “Daddy can be a real dick about stuff like this.” “Who says he’ll find out?” replied Scott. “He won’t if I go now,” answered Jessica. “Besides, there’s still tomorrow. Gotta keep ‘em wanting more.” With a wink and a smile, she walked out of his dorm room and, to neither of their knowledge, out of his life forever. As she entered the stairwell, she smoothed out the wrinkles from her skirt with a shimmy and a shake. A quick check of her make-up and hair using the mirror in her compact solidified that any possible risks of exposing the façade have been alleviated. She was picture-perfect, with nothing out of place. Now the only problem was thinking of a decent excuse for her tardiness, considering her grades reflected an entirely different set of study habits. Knowing that she would inevitably have to explain why her research group had gone past the operating hours of the Long Beach university library, Jessica began to formulate her alibi. Countless scenarios were thought up, each plausible in their own right, yet each had weaknesses that were sure to be exploited. Her protection detail wasn’t the typical, mindless oaf, better suited to mall security or campus safety, and could be diverted for only so long. The gentlemen enlisted to maintain her security had graduated with degrees ranging from criminal justice to psychology, each at the top of their class. Needless to say, they were well trained and well paid. The slightest misstep would certainly register as a huge blip on their radar. She did have one advantage, however. If worse came to worse, Jessica could always claim that her lack of punctuality was caused by “feminine problems” and that her sentries “really don’t want to know”. Outside the dormitory, the night air had become unusually thick for this time of year, almost palpable. Walking from the exit across a small patch of grass, Jessica noticed that steam seemed to be rising from the earth. Logic told her that this was nothing more than the nightly onset of a marine layer rolling across the campus grounds and a look to the sky above confirmed as much. No stars were visible tonight, though that is not extraordinary, given the amount of light pollution that emanates from the average California city. What did strike her as odd, however, was the amount of darkness present. The moon was nowhere to be seen, hiding its beams behind a thick veil of clouds. The only light was that of the dormitory behind and a sole street lamp illuminating the lot where her car was parked, some couple hundred yards in the distance. As she began to make her way to her brand new Volkswagen Jetta, Jessica thought that her surroundings bore an eerie resemblance to Sleepy Hollow. She half expected to hear the thundering rumble of the Headless Horseman atop his steed, seething fire and brimstone as he roared down the hedgerows that lined her path. Instead, she listened to the lonely whistle of the wind as it blew through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle. As the darkness grew and her eyesight dimmed, her sense of hearing swelled, compensating for the deficit. With every tentative step she took, her fear gradually receded, allowing her to discern and identify the sounds of the abyss. Everything was peaches and cream until – SNAP! There was no doubt in her mind what had caused that sound. It was as identifiable as the opening bars of Beethoven’s 5th or the theme from Jaws. The snapping of twigs was as ominous as the tide receding before a tsunami. Someone’s foot caused that sound, someone who was tracking her. Frantically searching the shadows for signs of life, though continuing to walk, she called out. “Hello? Is there anybody there?” Knowing that her protection detail were not ones to implement such a level of stealth, she grew uneasy. Quickening her pace, her heels echoed off the brick and concrete. She reached into her purse and withdrew her car keys, holding them with their teeth protruding from between her fingers. Considering the situation, she felt only slightly foolish that her paranoia had gripped her so powerfully. Though fear and paranoia accounted for the majority of the emotions she was experiencing at this moment, there was something else trying desperately to make its way to the forefront. She felt like she was being watched. More noise came from the bushes and, out of the corner of her eye, something strangely human in shape appeared for a split second before melting back into the void. With unease rapidly giving way to shear terror, Jessica fixed her strides on the streetlight, now her beacon of hope. Not quite jogging, though moving rather briskly, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she could not shake. At the exact moment as she was mustering her resolve, another branch snapped underfoot. Pausing for the first time since leaving the safety of the dormitory, Jessica turned her back to the parking lot. “I know you’re there,” she said. “This isn’t funny. Scott, if that’s you, just come out already.” Even though her tone was light and playful, her heart was racing. Taking a few steps backwards, her heart began to pump even faster as no answer came. She was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that she saw something. Her eyes were not playing tricks on her; there was a person trying to scare her, she was sure of it. If this was a joke, she didn’t think this was very funny at all. The humor in being scared to death was lost on her at the moment. Her ego swelled with a sense of false bravado and her lungs filled with air. She tried once more to ferret out whoever was tra