Standing By

Suspicious

(Jav)

Jessica was quiet, keeping much to herself, her light blue eyes open wide, always scanning the area. She was a smart and savvy woman. I honestly had no doubt this woman had the physical ability to protect herself if need be. She'd scouted me out before I could even introduce myself, running to Smith three minutes after I'd been on the lookout. Past Kats, past Rupert, past Gen; she was going directly to the head of security. She was extremely fast and smooth as well. Running after her backstage, I made nine assessments about her. One, she was physically fit and was perfectly height/weight proportionate, not even breathing hard as she ran. Two, she was very health conscious and took care of herself—her body, eating right, exercising regularly. Three, her exercise of choice was clearly running. Four, as fit as she was, she was self-conscious about her looks, forever pulling her one-size-too-big shirt over her hips. She didn't like her hips or her legs. She wanted to hide those legs. More than any place else on her body, her thighs. Five, she was not accustomed to the life of a performer, slightly awkward in her movements, unsure of where she belonged, playing with her backstage pass nervously, looking at everything in wonder, taking it all in. She couldn't have been with Avi for very long at all. Six, she was head over heels with him, grinning and blushing when William mentioned his name. Love or infatuation? Only time would tell. Seven, she was street-savvy, having seen me and being well-aware my eyes were on her. Eight, she was intelligent because nine, she had a big heart and was in the healthcare profession. She was wearing those shoes that nurses and doctors wear. I'd bet money on her being a nurse.

She'd corralled Smith by the security office. "Smith—Smith—there's someone following me, a woman in her forties, brown hair, brown eyes, five foot five, blue and white shirt, blue jeans, tennis shoes."

His lips had immediately curled up, looking past her and scouting down the hallway looking for me. I had waved when he looked past me twice and he'd laughed, gesturing me forward. "Jessica, I'd like you to meet Stephanie Javorsky, Jav for short. She is part of our extended security staff that we pull for big events like this."

"I—what?" She'd looked confused and concerned, her brows crinkling.

I'd extended my hand towards her thin hands, tipped with pink nails. "I'm very sorry to have alarmed you, Jessica. I came on duty twenty minutes ago and got report and was assigned to make sure you are safe throughout the night and the performance."

Her face relaxed only a touch, brows un-crinkling though her eyes remained uncertain, trust clearly not granted easily. It was in that moment I'd deduced another thing. Someone had hurt her in the past and probably had a difficult childhood. I was guessing child abuse; I've seen too many cases in ten years of practicing psychiatry. I'd only turned to security three years ago, but it has proven to be extremely beneficial in this line of work. I have become superb at reading people, their emotions, and body language. I practically knew what people would do before they did it. And to further help me, no one ever suspected a mild-mannered non-threatening quiet me to be in the line of work I am. I'd have a threat in cuffs before he'd even realize how on to him I was.

"You're Avi's girlfriend, aren't you?" I had asked her with a warm smile. Bringing him into the conversation is what had caused her to extend the olive branch to me, trusting me. She'd blushed, grinned, dipped her head as though embarrassed, and nodded.

And now, at double green having just been announced, my mind was on high alert, my twenty/fifteen vision was keen on anyone and everyone, my ears were peeled, my nose even picking up on slight abnormalities. Why was I smelling Sandy's perfume? When Sandy was making herself scarce? I'd only seen her three times today. Once when I first got here and she'd given me a nod hello, and twice in the hallway, where on one occasion she was on her radio and looking concerned, and on the other occasion she trying to remove her underwear from her rear end. Something was up with her. I was suspicious of our own management. And Harris was sullen for some reason. I knew he and his girlfriend were having issues—could that be it or was there something more? A couple of days ago he'd agreed to talk to me me if things got overwhelming. I may have to make him. He's not acting right. Less talkative, more depressed acting, and I was certain I was smelling cigarette smoke on him lately. Up until a week ago, he had never been a smoker.