Free Don't Look Now by Michelle Gagnon

black pupils surrounded by pale irises. Peter found them creepy as hell.
    Fortunately, Mason didn’t appear to have spotted Peter. He turned right out the door and started up the block.
    Peter locked his Prius and hurried to stay half a block back, keeping as many people as possible between them. He needn’t have bothered. Mason maintained a brisk pace, clearly intent on a specific destination. He brushed past slower pedestrians, lengthening his stride to catch lights before they turned.
    Peter nearly had to break into a trot to keep up. He prayed that Mason wouldn’t stop suddenly, or turn around. He was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he was an amateur at this, going up against a trained professional. He felt terribly exposed, despite the people between them.
    For a second, he lost sight of the gray coat and nearly panicked. Peter hustled forward, then stopped dead. Mason had paused at a newsstand to buy a newspaper. Tucking it under his arm, he turned and hurried down the steps into the Copley T station.
    Without pausing to consider, Peter followed him. Funny, Mason hadn’t struck him as a public transportation type.
    Luckily, he still had credits on his CharlieCard. He slid it through the turnstile and rushed toward the stopped train, getting on one car down from Mason. Something else you rarely see in cop shows , he thought as the doors slid closed. He couldn’t see into the next car, and would have to get out at every stop to see if Mason dismounted, which seriously increased the likelihood of being recognized.
    Peter did that for three stations; each time his heart throttled his rib cage as he stepped off the train. At the fourth stop, Mason got off and headed for the exit. Peter tugged his baseball cap down farther and followed.
    They emerged at the Park Street station, in the thick of downtown. Peter kept an eye on Mason’s back as he wove confidently through the crowd. Leaving the station, he turned right and strode into a large building. Peter continued past the entrance, then crossed the street to survey it. It was a glass and steel skyscraper. He noted the address, then returned to the front doors. By now, Mason should have left the lobby.
    Entering, he saw a security guard stationed behind a large, imposing white desk. No building directory in sight. Peter hesitated, glancing toward the security camera mounted by the elevators.
    “Help you?” the guard called.
    Deciding, Peter replied, “Sorry, wrong building,” and rushed out. Last thing he wanted was to have to present photo ID to a rent-a-cop. He could search who the tenants were online, and might even be able to puzzle out which office Mason had visited.
    Besides, Peter realized, he had all the information he really needed. Now he knew for certain where Mason lived.
    Adrenaline still coursed through his veins, making him feel lighter as he practically skipped down the stairs to the T.
     
    Teo rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It had been a while since he’d slept in a house, and it was a refreshing change. Unlike camping on the streets, here he didn’t have to sleep with one eye open, jolted awake every few hours by noise or the fear that someone was sneaking up on him. He’d slept better in the past two days than he had in years.
    The rest of the room was filled with kids who were still zonked out. His heart swelled at the sight of them. At his last camp, he’d felt tolerated. He’d never really counted any of the other runaways as friends; they stuck together out of necessity, knowing they were easy prey on the streets.
    Here, though, pretty much everyone seemed to genuinely like him. Especially Daisy. Teo watched her sleep. She looked tough when she was awake, with her spiked blue hair and piercings. But asleep, you could really see how pretty she was. They’d hung out yesterday, talking about the stuff she’d been doing with Noa and Zeke since they picked her up outside Vegas. It all sounded amazing, but the whole time, Teo found it