Ivy turned the page. “A tribute to Grandma.”
Reese let out a low whistle. “Who is that she’s with? That woman is your spitting image, Ivy.”
Ivy’s jaw slackened. Grandma, a less bent and wrinkled version than Ivy remembered—stood next to . . . to whom? With shaking hands Ivy slipped the photo from the corner tabs holding it in place. On the back of the photo were words written in blue smudged ink.
Pearl Howard and Rose, 1998.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
DECEMBER 14, 1998
Laney shifted her backpack and eyed the diner’s storefront from behind a stand of bushes. She watched the people coming and going. She shouldn’t have stopped. It only teased the hollowed-out ache in her middle.
She fingered the damp edges of the five bucks she slipped from Vance’s wallet. It wasn’t stealing. Not when that money should have been hers.
He’d find her again. Just like always. But if she made him look long enough, hard enough. Sparked his anger high enough, maybe he really would kill her this time. Finish the job he threatened so many times. And then she’d finally be free.
The thought of freedom, of never having to look over her shoulder, propelled her toward the diner. Why be cautious? Might as well get a warm meal in her cold, cramped stomach. Enjoy whatever temporary pleasure was in front of her. Vance couldn’t really hurt her. Not when he’d already destroyed everything that mattered.
She tucked her tangled, damp hair beneath her ball cap and tugged it low. Her wet jeans chafed her thighs and her raw feet seared as she walked toward the door. Maybe last night’s rainstorm was enough to delay Vance’s search a little longer. That and he’d been drunk out of his mind.
Laney slunk into a corner booth, back to the wall. Eyes on the door. She glanced at the menu, thankful this greasy spoon offered cheap food and heat. The warmth in the narrow diner seeped through her damp clothes. She shuffled up to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee and a biscuit with gravy.
Her stomach full for the first time in as long as she could remember, Laney relaxed a fraction. Until the front door clanked. She flinched and peered under her ball cap, knowing it was Vance, coming to drag her out the door. But no, it was a short little old lady. She tottered in and sat at the booth across the aisle, chatting up the cook like they were best friends.
Laney stood to pay. Better get on her way. Travel as far as the fuel in her belly would take her. The old woman passed her, heading toward the restroom. Keeping her eyes cast down, Laney paid the cashier and slipped one dollar into the tip jar. The other she pocketed. One whole dollar. Might as well stick that in the jar too for all the good it would do her.
She passed the lady’s vacant booth. The car keys she’d left on the laminate table glinted from the overhead lighting. All alone in the wide open.
Laney’s finger twitched. So easy. Her answer right in front of her. Grab the keys and drive the car until the gas ran out, ditch it, and keep running.
Out the front window, she spied a brown Oldsmobile. Classic old lady car. She stepped to the booth. Might as well. It wasn’t as though one more sin would paint her soul blacker than it already was.
She grabbed the keys, their teeth cutting into her palm. A hand gripped her forearm. Laney gasped, body frozen in place.
But it wasn’t the crushing, scarred hands she’d expected. Instead, they were bony fingers with pink-painted fingernails.
“You got trouble over there, Pearl?” The grizzled line cook called out from behind the counter.
The lady whispered next to Laney’s ear, her voice scratchy. “Do I?”
Laney dropped the keys on the table with a clank and shook her head.
“We’re all right over here, Steve.”
Still the woman didn’t release her. Laney lifted her gaze, prepared for the scorn she’d see there. But the woman studied Laney’s arms, not her face. The bruises and the track marks. Both put there by Vance to keep her under his power. Laney wrenched her arm away and backstepped.
“I can help you.” The woman’s voice was tender and light. “I know a place you can go. Hot meals. Roof over your head.”
Like she hadn’t heard those words before. Depending on the kindness of a stranger had ruined her life.
Laney edged away. “Where? County jail?”
“I know desperation when I see it. Just let me help you get somewhere safe.”
Laney lifted her head to lock eyes with this woman who promised things no one could deliver.
The woman’s eyes widened, and she sucked in a soft breath. The lines in her face deepened. Staring like she was a long-lost child.
“What?”
The lady shook her head as if to clear it. “Just let me help you. Please.”
“No, I—” The front door clanked. A dark hulking figure appeared, shadowed by the morning light behind him.
Laney sank into the booth, tugging her hat lower. This was it. Ten lousy miles of freedom and one hot meal. Oh, how she’d pay for it.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
“That man. At the door. He’s here for me.”
“He’s the reason you were about to abscond with my car?” The woman turned toward the door. “Honey, there’s nobody—”
“Shh!” Laney hissed.
“I can take you to a place he won’t be able to get to you. But you have to come with me. Walk out the back door of this diner and don’t look back.”
Laney lifted her head a fraction. “We’ll never make it.”
The woman thumbed at the paunchy cook who hummed and wiped the countertops like he hadn’t a care in the world. “You see Steve there? He’s an old friend and he knows how to handle himself. Wouldn’t believe it by looking at him now, but he used to be part of a motorcycle gang in another life. He’ll make sure we get out of here without being bothered.”
“He’ll just follow us once we leave.”
“I’m trying to tell you. I don’t know what you thought you saw, but nobody’s come through that door since I came back from the restroom. Whoever is after you isn’t here. If we go now, I can get you somewhere safe. We won’t have to worry about anyone following us.”
The old lady was blind. Maybe crazy too. Laney shifted in her seat and leaned to steal a glance at the door. Like she’d said, no one was there. But he could be out in the parking lot, tucked around a corner, waiting to ambush her.
The woman sat and gripped her hand. Laney flinched and the old woman released her hold. “There’s a better life for you out there than the one you’re living. All you have to do is take hold of it. Follow me out that door.”
“I don’t have no money.” Laney’s heart pounded in her chest—hope rebelling against the doubt roiling inside her head. What if the lady was somehow in on it? A trick to lure her, and then the old bat would just drive her back to Vance. Then again, maybe, just maybe this was her ticket. Maybe the path to freedom didn’t involve death at Vance’s hands.
“You don’t need money. Your way has already been paid in advance.”
“All I got is the clothes on my back. I can’t give you nothing.” Laney crossed her arms over her chest. “No currency you’d be interested in anyway.”