“Everything’s fine!” I jumped in my truck, turned the engine, and took off down the lane. I could explain later. This wasn’t about Preston.
I’d never been much for speeding. I was definitely more of a cruiser – a take it easy type of driver. Even in the city.
But today I bolted down the highway like a NASCAR enthusiast gone wrong. Fast wasn’t fast enough. I was worried about Anne. Really, really worried.
And to top it off, my conversation with Dad, while completely necessary and incredibly eye opening, had made me late for our “date”. I figured I could make up a few minutes on the road, but it looked like my arrival time was going to be at least fifteen minutes later than it should have been.
Shit.
And I couldn’t even call her, which was maddening. Getting Anne a phone was at the top of my priority list, right after ensuring she was no longer being hunted down by that nasty, psychopathic piece of shit.
Kate’s was dark when I pulled up. Definitely closed. The sun was low in the sky, and Corydon’s nearly non-existent downtown was creepier looking than normal. The atmosphere itself seemed... off. Dark.
Menacing.
Keep your shit together. It’s all in your head. You’re just worked up about all the information you had pushed your way.
I cringed. Anne was going to kill me when she found out I’d played a part in her life being pried into. More than ever, I wished I was a good liar.
But I’m just not.
Anne would know I’d looked into her background because I would openly admit it.
That was Penn Hardick, take it or leave it.
I tried to exit my vehicle and walk up the stairs to Anne’s apartment in a normal, “I’m not worried about the girl I love being stalked down by her dead ex’s nutjob brother” manner.
I wasn’t sure exactly how much trouble I was in for being late, but I’d find a way to smooth that out. We had way more important issues to discuss.
Like, can I call you by your first name or should I keep using your middle?
I lifted my hand to knock and realized that Anne’s door wasn’t even completely closed. That didn’t seem like her at all.
“Anne?” I called it out lightly at first, and then louder. “Anne?” Figuring that decorum no longer mattered, I pushed the door completely open and walked in.
Tidy. Small.
“Anne?” Still no response.
This wasn’t right.
I walked through the rest of the apartment, which was only a bedroom and a bathroom, and checked every closet.
The only object in the entire apartment that caught my eye was a roll of duct tape sitting on the kitchen counter. All by itself.
My heart was pumping overtime.
Was it too much to hope maybe Anne just had a really, really sick sense of humor and was trying to freak me out?
Kate’s. I could go over to Kate’s. Anne had told me that Kate lived directly above her store.
In fact, Anne being the reactive little firecracker that she was, she’d probably thought I wasn’t coming – was standing her up or something. She’d more than likely gone to Kate’s for consolation, albeit premature.
I trampled down the stairs, eyeing the identical stairs one building down that had to lead to Kate’s apartment. I was on the first step when a crashing sound came from inside the supply store.
Shit.
Immediately I ran to the side of the building and stood flat against the wall, trying to hear any other sounds possible. Muffled voices. But so muffled that I couldn’t even tell if they were female or male.
Anne and Kate. Females. Duh.
Someone had dropped something. That was all.
I turned toward the back door of Kate’s Supplies, took a deep breath, and crept stealthily towards it.
The door was slightly ajar, which was again creepily alarming. People didn’t just leave doors slightly open all the time. They either didn’t have a chance to close the door – which in this case, was terrifying – or...
It had been left open on purpose.
I was being led. But to what.
I looked around frantically until I spotted something that might work. Just a giant metal pipe, leftover tubing from a remodel, maybe, but I saw it amongst a pile of weeds and immediately grabbed it.
Now it was showtime.
Ducking down into a crouching stance, I used the pipe to push the door open, without moving from my spot against the wall.
Boom! Boom boom boom boom! Boom!
“I got ‘em, Katie! Motherfucker’s gotta be deader than a doornail!” It was a man’s voice, and not one that I recognized in the slightest. But it did have a rather thick southern, backwoodsy accent to it.
“Well how about you check and make sure, Tim?” That was Kate’s voice.
Katie. Kate. Tim. Fisher.
They knew each other.
My initial plan had been to clonk whoever came out of that doorway with the pipe as soon as they popped their head out. But Tim’s shock at realizing he’d only blown the back door to smithereens sent him running into the back alley in a panicked frenzy.
He didn’t even notice me.
I ran up behind him and swung the pipe at his back, knocking him clean to the ground.
He howled and rolled, looking up at me with the most hateful eyes I had ever witnessed in my entire life.
“Who the fuck are you?” Tim asked me angrily. He started to stand up, but I shook my head and pointed at the pipe.
“Stay down, and kindly tell me who the fuck are you?” I was aware that the whereabouts of his gun were completely unknown to me at that time, but we’d get to that.
“I’m Timothy fuckin’ Fisher. I came here to avenge my brother. And I’m guessin’ you’re that fuckin’ Hardick shit Katie said was tryin’ to get all over Val. Nice to meet you.” He smiled then, showing me just how many teeth were no longer present in his mouth, and I nearly hit him again out of pure disgust.
“Anne didn’t kill your brother,” I said firmly, not looking away for a second.
“The fuck she didn’t. What, just cuz somethin’ pretty sucks your cock and tells ya she’s innocent, you believe her? Are you stupid, boy?”
I wanted to kill him. Dead. Right there.
“Where’s Anne?”
“Her name is Valerie, you douche bag. See? She’s a liar, that one. She’ll lie and lie and lie until one day you just up and accidentally find yerself at the bottom of a gorge!” Tim was growing angrier by the second, and I had a feeling that his adrenaline was going to send him straight toward me in an animalistic rage very soon.
“Anne. Valerie Anne. She’s not a liar. And she’s not a murderer.” My own rage was building.
“You’re a dumbfuck. You don’t know shit ‘bout women. And ‘specially not that one. My brother took her in and gave her the goddamn world, and she paid him back by killin’ him, then disappearin’ with his only child. Why is someone like you – a rich, spoiled bastard who could be neck deep in pussy every night – chasin’ around a filthy, trailer trash whore like Val?”
He started to stand as he said this, but as soon as the word “whore” went past his lips, my body took action that would not be stopped.
A nice, solid bash to the head sent Tim’s gangly body back down to the ground. I was mildly concerned that I’d killed him, but that seemed like a problem that could wait for later. Anne was in that building – I hoped – with Murphy, and at the mercy of “Katie”, who may or may not have already hurt her.