“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Checking supplies.” I unzip the bag and look through the tools we’ve brought with us.
“We have everything,” he assures me.
“I know. I just want to see.” I pick up my knife, a hunting knife with a thick wooden handle. The weight of the handle and blade balance perfectly, my grip steady.
“It should be just around the corner.”
How does he keep all these maps in his head? He knows exactly where he’s going. Maybe it’s from years of being a street cop before moving up to detective. I wouldn’t be able to remember all these things.
As we turn at the next intersection, a small building comes into view. Most of the other buildings are dark, but this little one has their lights on. An office building among the factories. I grip the knife harder, my heart pounds as I focus on the single car parked on the side of the building.
The truck slams to a stop, jerking me forward.
“Shit.”
My hand hits the dashboard, saving my face from the same fate. “What’s wrong?” I ask, searching his features. His hands drop into his lap and his face softens. When he looks at me, there’s despair filling his gaze.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning across the console and touching his face.
“I know that car.” His voice is a raw whisper, like he’s witnessing a ghost crawl across the hood of the truck.
I look past him, at the sedan parked just outside the side entrance of the building.
“That cop?” I ask. “From the motel?”
He swallows. “No.”
“Then who?”
“Cathy. My partner.”
Twenty-Four
KENDOLL
“Are you sure?” Dolly asks, scrambling across the cabin to see out my window. “Ken, she’s dead. You said they killed her.” She pulls back and settles back in her seat. “Maybe it’s just a car that looks like hers.”
“The plates,” I say, grabbing hold of the steering wheel again and hitting the gas.
“Where are you going?” Dolly asks in a panic. “No. Ken, we have to go back.” She twists in her seat to look out the back window as the building fades in the rearview.
“Give me a second,” I snap. She ebbs back into her seat, pulling the belt across herself to buckle back up. The tool bag has slipped to the ground at her feet, but she’s still holding the knife. In a world of chaos, a world she never asked to be part of but was forced at every turn, she holds onto the weapon as a child holds tight to their teddy bear. It’s the thing that gives her strength at the moment.
It shouldn’t be. That’s my job. I should be giving her my strength. But I have to work this information out in my mind.
Pierce at the motel.
Cathy’s car at the play space.
What the fuck is going on and why can’t I make the puzzle pieces fit? I’ve never had trouble before.
I pull the truck into the parking lot of a factory and park among dozens of other cars. The factory is in full swing. Steam billows out of the towers on the rooftop. Large windows are pushed out from the warehouse, letting in some of the night’s cool air.
“Ken?” she asks in an uncertain tone.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, clenching my eyes closed.
“Give me a sec,” I say, softening my tone. This isn’t her fault, and I don’t want her thinking she’s done anything wrong.
“Okay.” The leather crunches beneath her as she moves beside me.
Cathy’s car was left at the warehouse we arrived at together. Bossman could have taken it, given it to someone else. Another jackoff in his crew? My chest tightens at the memory of what I did to her. Her toe-curling scream as I rammed my cock into her ass.
It doesn’t matter that I was forced. It means fuck all that I had no choice. They fucking killed her anyway. And I helped them torture her.
Whoever the fuck is waiting for us in that building isn’t going to get off as easy as Bossman. They are going to fucking hurt, scream the same way Cathy did before I let them get close to death.
I throw the truck into gear and reverse out of the parking spot, stopping to turn to Dolly.
“Change of plans,” I say. She scrunches up her lips, pressing them into a determined line, and gives me a sharp nod.
The light from the factory shines through the windshield, illuminating her face. Softness and determination rarely hold hands, but with Dolly, the unexpected is the norm. Her lips lift into a gentle smile.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I hit the gas. “We’re going to wait to see who comes out of the building. When we don’t show, they’ll leave. We’ll follow them, see who’s behind all this,” I explain, though I don’t need to. Dolly trusts me.
Two figures come into view when we get closer to the building. Shadows move behind the car.
“They’re outside,” Dolly whispers excitedly. She presses her hands to the dashboard, leaning forward, the hunting knife still steady in her grip.
I slow, keeping us hidden as best as I can. The doors of the car are open. They’re leaving. We’re only ten minutes late. Impatient assholes.
“Maybe they’re scared it was a setup,” Dolly interjects my thoughts. “Maybe they’re scared of getting caught if they stay too long.”
“That could be it.” I pull the truck into a driveway two buildings down. Hopefully they aren’t paying attention to us as I make a U-turn and park parallel to the building. I can see them, but if I’m lucky, they can’t see us.
Dolly has a better view with them on her side of the truck. “They’re inside the car now. I think they’re leaving.”
I touch her knee. “We have to stay back, but we’ll follow them. Okay?”
“We’ll get them, Ken.” She tilts her head to the side. “We won’t let them get away.” She’s making her own vow to me now. And with her at my side, I know she’s right. They won’t get away.
“They’re going.” I shift gears and roll through the parking lot out onto the street. Keeping their taillights in view, I maintain a steady speed so they can’t make us out. Another car pulls out of a factory, getting between us.
“Fuck,” Dolly says.
“No. That’s good. Now they can’t see us as well. We’ll be fine,” I assure her. She doesn’t comment, just sits back against her seat and twirls her knife in her palm.
They take us back through town to the highway. It won’t be as easy to tail them once we hit heavier traffic. Dolly’s staying quiet, probably contemplating what she’ll be able to achieve once we have them alone in a quiet space. I wish I could join her daydreams, but there’s more traffic than I anticipated on the highway. My focus has to stay on Cathy’s car.
The exit for Lake Palos comes up, and I follow them down the ramp. The streets become too familiar, but I keep up with them, watching as they make every turn, being careful not to be spotted.
“This looks familiar.” Dolly breaks the silence. “I’ve been here before.”
“When?”
“I…I don’t remember. I was out of high school though, so maybe a year ago?” She wiggles in her seat.