Okay, so she dressed.
Still, my adrenaline surges.
It doesn’t help that I can’t find my phone either.
I head to the kitchen and notice her shoes are gone.
This time, I yell her name, not just calling it out. “Kissy?”
No response. I move out to the front porch without worrying about my lack of clothes or the pain complaining in my leg.
Not that it matters either way.
There’s no Deputy Myers sitting outside. There’s no cruiser.
There’s no Kissy.
Now the house looks different to me, and I go to searching it like I’ve never been inside before. There’s no sign of a struggle. I can’t find any phone. Same with my car keys.
Same with Grant’s gun.
I dress faster than I thought possible.
Either Kissy left or someone took her.
I can’t imagine the first; there will be hell to pay for the latter.
I grab my baseball bat and head for my rental. I might not have the keys, but lucky for me, I have an older brother who taught me how to hotwire a damn car.
There’sno landline at Big House, so I drive like a bat out of hell to Low Low. I think there’s something to the fact that Ryan kept one there and not at his home, but for now I’m just grateful I can make a call.
I’m also glad the rain has stopped. The road is in bad shape, and as it’s nicknamed, the animal shelter looks like it’s taken location across from a pond. One that seems to go all the way to the main road outside of Blue Lolita. There’s debris from the parish road. I see some roadside trash and a to-go coffee cup floating in the field. That would be me, too, if I had to navigate the mud and rain in the state I’m in.
And the state my rental is in.
I had to bust the back window out with the bat.
No faster way to get inside than that.
Low Low’s lights are off, and I don’t have my keys to it either. I’m thinking about how sore my arm is going to be from breaking through another window with my baseball bat when I see the backend of a truck sticking out from the other side of the shelter. It’s not Guidry’s flashy thing, but I don’t recognize it past that.
Instead of barreling into Low Low like I want, I slow and park on the opposite side of the vehicle, putting me closest to the warehouse’s side door. It leads into the open room where Alice was shot.
I cuss at my rental.
It sure would be nice to have a gun.
For the first time since coming to Robin’s Tree, my skin prickles when the air hits me. It’s cold and wet. The sky is darkening again too. Mud slunks against the bottom of my shoes. If whoever drives that truck hasn’t heard me drive up, they’ll probably hear my wet shoes slapping against the flooring.
Assuming I can get in without having to use my bat.
The door closest to me is locked, and there are no windows on this side. Instead of moving along to the front of Low Low, I head around the back corner. There’s no one behind the shelter. I try the door a few feet away, also leading into the warehouse portion of the building.
It’s unlocked.
That unnerves me more than it gives me relief.
The door is a standard kind of metal. It’s heavy but doesn’t make a sound as I push it open. My bat is a fixture of my right hand. I don’t need to use it when I’m fully in the room.
