Page 23 of Snow Blind
He drove there and waited. If she were true to form, this would be the next stop for some frou-frou bullshit with whipped cream sprinkled with fairy wings with a double pump of Madagascar vanilla shots picked by a blind monkey hanging upside down the mountainside where the sun only lasted for six hours. Lawrence smiled at his own jest as the Subaru pulled up.
Again, he watched her exit routine from the vehicle. A desire so powerful to kiss her shocked even him. Maybe if things worked out, he could be a hero for Swallowtail and bring the woman to them, broken, of course. A night or two under his watchful care and administration, and he could bring the woman to the Chrysalis as punishment for her transgressions.
"Wait, what is she doing?" he asked as he spotted her darting down the alley. The contretemps of her actions were puzzling him.
Hurriedly, he exited the truck, not caring if the door slammed. He jogged across the road, careful not to draw attention to himself. Easy steps led him into the alley as he searched for his mark. A moment of hesitation came hurling at his head when he thought about the last lines of the text, DO NOT ENGAGE. She was a slip of woman. No real threat to him. He could easily overpower her, knock her out, then stash her in a doorway while he fetched his vehicle.
The excitement of a possible private evening with the lady distracted him. He never saw the blow coming to his temple as he dropped to his knees, landing on his face in the alley. The lady left him there, minus the cash in his wallet and the credit cards. She even took his identification.
At home later that night, fear consumed him. She'd taken his identification, meaning she knew who he was, and she knew where he lived, and with that kind of information, she would know who he worked for to find her. He was screwed, not only with the Chrysalis for failing to follow the missive, but he had engaged with her, just as they told him not to, and now, he was going to more than likely be killed.
Days passed, and he would have to make the call. He'd have to confess to Swallowtail his failure and pray she didn't take his life. Finally, when the worrying turned to making him physically ill, he entered his kitchen in the middle of the night. On the counter sat his driver's license and the two credit cards taken from his wallet. Next to it was a single cranberry.
"What the hell is this?" he said looking around. Sweat beads popped up on his forehead and his mouth went dry.
Lawrence rushed to check the doors and windows for a point of entry. The alarm had been on and still was. The woman had entered his home. Fear coursed through him as he ran back to the bedroom and on his pillow was a copy of one of the books she'd purchased in the bookstore.
"Fucccccck!" he screamed, realizing she'd still been in his home when he went to the kitchen. "What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?"
****
HELEN WAS ON THE MOVE. The Subaru was compromised. It was a five-hour drive to Louisville to drop off the car and pick up the Colorado pick up Mustang had given her. It would also be a good time to spend a day or so with Cherry before driving the two hours home to Plainfield. Thus far, she hadn't told her cousin that she was living with Mustang in Indiana or even told Cherry that Mustang had moved to Indiana. They would tell everyone at Christmas.
However, she needed to make a quick stop in Orland Park to return the driver's license and credit cards to one Lawrence Canton, a professional tracker used by the Chrysalis. It would seem Lawrence was contracted to find her. He’d succeeded, but she simply needed to drop by his place to let him know she'd also found him.
Spending three months with Lemon had taught her the finer points of accessing security systems with chemicals. A drop of acid here and a mixture of a few chemicals there and the systems were deactivated. She let herself into his home and even took a moment to watch him sleep.
Helen tickled the bottom of his foot as he tossed and turned, before finally sitting up. In the kitchen, she'd left his cards. She watched from the guest room as he passed by, going to the kitchen to discover the ID and credit cards. In his bedroom, she’d left a copy of the bookWatchersby Koontz on his pillow, easing out the way she'd come in.
A small smile covered her lips, knowing it would fuck with his calm for the rest of his life.
"Yeah, I'm a fucking predator," Helen said, aiming the Subaru towards Louisville.
It wasn't something she would mention to Mustang. She didn't mention the tracker she had located on her car and transferred to the truck. She didn't mention any of it to anyone as she joined Cherry, Slow, and Naomi at the kitchen table for dinner. After dinner, she read a story to Naomi and listened to her speak about her pony, Miss Sprinkles. Helen sat and listened to her cousin complain about the disappearance of her vagina under the growing belly and the constant need to pee, along with other bodily functions Helen didn't care to hear about.
At the end of the evening, before walking to the home gifted to her by her cousin’s husband, Slow stopped her.
"We miss you around here," Slow said.
"It's nice to be missed," Helen responded. "Ditto. Have a good night."
Cherry noticed the difference in Helen. Mr. Slow noticed the difference in Helen. The good news that he felt he needed to share with his wife, "She's no longer afraid to walk her path in the world."
"I'm more afraid for those crossing her path," Cherry said.
"Are you worried she no longer needs you, Abigail?" he asked, using her birth name versus the former Technician handle.
"No, she never needed me, Michael. I was always the one who needed her," Cherry confessed. "She knew it and allowed me the space to work through all the insecurities I had, but it worked out for both of us. Now is her time. I have to move aside and let her breathe."
"It's going to be interesting when all is said and done," Slow told his wife.
There were a number of things going through Helen's head. One was the home she had in Kentucky in the backyard of her cousin's property. The house needed a lot of personal touches, and when they returned for Christmas, she planned to decorate the hell out of it to make it fitting for her and Mustang. Secondly, the home they shared in Indiana required the same, and on her way home in a day or so, she planned to stop and buy up some things to make the place more personable. However, first, she needed to get through Thanksgiving with Bad Apple and the kids.
A smile sat at the corner of her lips imagining Mustang sleeping in one of the full-sized beds. His feet were going to hang over the edges. Then she imagined him meeting Stephen, and Ricky, and the laughter sneaked up on her.
"This is going to be good," she said, thinking of when her father would also meet the permanent man in her life. "Yeah, it's going to be good. First things first. Thanksgiving."
