“It’s raining,” Sonja complained when she answered the second time. “Let me grab a coat.”
Vivian covered the mouthpiece to signal Rex that she was making progress. Then she waited while her mother’s neighbor trudged next door. She heard the knock, heard Sonja calling Ellen’s name, but she couldn’t make out any response. Several seconds later, Sonja confirmed that there hadn’t been one.
“Can you see inside?” Vivian asked.
“’Fraid, not. The blinds are pulled. I told you, she’s in a real funk.”
What now? Her mother was retired and living on social security and what she’d been able to glean from her many divorces. If her car was there, she should be, too. “Could you go around back, please? Something isn’t right.”
“Sure.”
Vivian listened to the swish of Sonja’s clothing as she moved. Then Sonja’s voice came through loud and clear. “Oh, boy.”
“Oh, boy?” Vivian straightened. “What does that mean?”
“Looks like the door’s been broken.”
Tendrils of fear slithered around Vivan’s stomach and squeezed until it hurt. That was when she knew her ulcer was coming back. She’d been too anxious this week; it was bound to happen. But that was the least of her worries right now. “Broken as in…someone forced their way inside?” She almost didn’t recognize her own voice…?.
“I don’t want to scare you but…”
She sounded scared herself. “Maybe you shouldn’t go in. Maybe you’d better call 9-1-1.”
That brought no response.
“Sonja?”
“Wait a second. There’s a terrible stench. And I see something.”
Vivian bit her lip and gripped the phone even tighter. “What is it?”
“Oh, God!” Sonja wailed. “Someone’s stabbed her. She’s dead.”
“They didn’t even lock the door. That means we’re basically invited in, don’t you think?” Ink chortled as he let himself and L.J. inside the cabin they’d come across earlier.
L.J. didn’t answer. He hadn’t said a word since Ink dragged him from the edge of the clearing where he’d been watching the pretty teenager sitting on her deck.
Attempting to ignore his partner’s sour mood, Ink visited the kitchen. “Hey, they’ve got enough beer in here to last us a month.” He opened the refrigerator door wide, so L.J. could see for himself. “Look at this.”
L.J. didn’t bother to glance over. Slumping onto the couch, he stared straight ahead.
Ink closed the fridge. “Quit pouting about that little bitch, will ya?”
“I’m just wondering why we always have to do what you want. You can threaten people, kill people, whatever. First you killed that lady in L.A. Then—”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“You told Horse she had information. You knew he was sending a couple Crew over there. What did you think they were going to do? Dance with her?”
“They did exactly what I expected. And, just like I told you, she did have information.”
“A phone number that goes to a restaurant?”
“It’s what brought us here, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, and I bet that old guy at the cabin’s glad we came.”
Ink didn’t want to think about the old guy at the cabin, but L.J. brought it up all the time. “Listen, you can have that sweet young thing when we’re ready to leave the area. Then it won’t matter what you do because we’ll be gone before the sheriff can come after us.”
“And when will that be?” L.J. grumbled.
“I’ve told you. After I kill Laurel Hodges and her kids and send their heads to her brother.”
L.J. grimaced. “That’s sick, man. Are you really gonna cut off their heads? Even the kids?”
“Why not?” Searching for clues that might tell him how many men they’d soon be facing, and what those men were like, Ink limped into the living room and began snooping around. He found a pair of waders, an extra fishing rod, a paper sack with a few pennies, a receipt for bait and a bag of chips.
A joint lay on top of the entertainment system. Ink thought that might come in handy.
L.J. watched him circle the room. “Getting that woman killed was bad enough. But the old guy? After seeing that shit, I wouldn’t put anything past you.”
“What’s the matter?” He grinned. “Can’t handle the violence?”
Two grooves formed between L.J.’s eyebrows. “That’s not it. It’s just…we been here a week and you still don’t know where this Laurel woman lives. Unless she’s dumber than dirt, she’s changed her name, so it’s not like we can just ask around. And it hasn’t done any good to stake out the Golden Griddle. How will we ever find her? Ask everyone we meet to see if they know a woman who’s tall and thin with long blond hair? That could describe lots of women. And she could’ve gained a ton of weight or changed her hair color.”
“Maybe she can change her hair color and her weight, but she can’t change her height. She’s got to be five-ten. That doesn’t describe as many women as you think.”
“Oh, yeah? You might be surprised.” His sulk more pronounced, he folded his arms.
“Besides, I’ve seen her,” Ink said. “I’d recognize her.”
“That might work if she ate at that restaurant, but we haven’t spotted her there.”
“We could spot her somewhere else.”
L.J. barked a laugh. “What’re the chances? You gotta be realistic, man. All you got is the phone number Horse’s men forced out of Laurel’s mother. That’s not much. Maybe if they could’ve gotten the kids’ names, we’d have a chance, but the old lady wouldn’t give that up.”
“I’m going to remember the daughter’s name myself. You’ll see.”
“That’s what you’ve been saying since I met you, bro.”
“I will. I heard Laurel say it once. I was right there in her living room.”
L.J. waved him off. “So we got nothin’, like I said.
We’re just wastin’ time.”
Ink gritted his teeth. As far as he was concerned, L.J. didn’t deserve to call himself a member of The Crew. The Crew didn’t whine like this kid. That was the problem these days. They were letting in guys who had no balls whatsoever. “You’ll see. I’ll think of the name eventually.” But he didn’t have a lot of hope. He’d been racking his brain for the past four years to no avail. All he knew was that it was short and unusual…?.