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“She is. But I’m not sure if she even sees it.”
“Women rarely do, which is just as well. If they did, they’d realize they have no use for our sorry asses.”
I chuckle as the elevator opens, and we head back to the car, Greg leading the way. We don’t talk on the way over to the motel. Our moods darken when we get closer and see the hookers out in full force already.
“Well, if I wasn’t already dead set on her coming with us before, I sure as shit am now.”
“You and me both. Seems smart women can make dumb decisions too,” Greg grunts.
“Well, she married Hawk and Creed, didn’t she?” I reply, making him sigh.
“Don’t suppose you found out what room she’s staying in, did ya?”
I look at him.
“Of course you did.”
Greg parks in the first spot he sees, and we both climb out and walk over to the room I know to be hers. I knock on the door. When nobody answers, I knock a little louder. Still nothing.
Greg shoves me aside. “Fuck it. If she gets pissed, I’m blaming you.”
I look at him and frown, then watch as he squats down and pulls his knife from his pocket, ready to jimmy the lock. He pauses, though, running his fingers over the scratches already there.
“Looks like someone might have beat us to it.”
“Are you armed?”
“No. You?”
“No. I didn’t fucking think we’d need it for the hospital.”
He blows out a breath. “I’ve got a piece in the truck. Hold on.”
He gets up and jogs back to the truck, grabs his gun, and heads back. He nods to me, and I take a step to the side before he unlocks the door and opens it. He steps inside, and I wait while he secures the room. Moments later, he shouts that it’s all clear. I enter and take in the scene, noting the frown on Greg’s face.
“She didn’t come back?”
I look around, checking under the bed, before spotting the cell phone on the bedside table. I pick it up and turn it over. I pop the back off and see that the SIM is gone.
“That her cell?”
I open the phone and check the contacts, but there aren’t any.
“Looks like a burner, and the SIM card has been removed.”
The bed is made, the room is tidy, and not a single thing is out of place except the phone.
“You think she ran?”
I turn the phone over in my hand before squeezing it tight. “If she did, why leave the phone?”
“Well, if it’s a burner, it can’t be traced. So why would it matter?”
“Look how tidy the room is. If she ran and didn’t want us to trace her, then why not toss the phone in the trash or take it with her and dump it somewhere? Leaving it here like this feels more like a statement.”
“Like she is confident we won’t find her?”
I shake my head. “That’s not the Avery I know. And I realize I don’t know her well, but none of this fits the woman I met in the hospital.”
