Why had she left their barn? How did she get out? Why didn’t she come to him? Was she okay? Had she found a good, dry place to have her kittens?
Frustrated and sad, he knew it was time to get Avery and go home.
He exited the barn on the opposite end from where he’d entered and saw Avery’s ATV parked just outside, in the gravel between the barn and the garage. Her radio wasn’t in the holder, so why hadn’t she responded to him?
The side door into the garage was partly open. He went to close it, then heard the door of the house close. He was about to call out hello as he came around the corner, but saw a man he didn’t recognize standing at the base of the ramp that covered the stairs, smoking.
Bobby instinctively ducked back.
That wasn’t Mr. Mendoza. And it definitely wasn’t Avery.
But Avery was here. The man was probably a friend of the family.
Bobby peered around the corner of the garage. The man was big and looked mean. He bit his lip, hesitated, then edged back to the garage door and slipped inside.
It smelled like diesel and hay and something sharper, like antiseptic or maybe metal.
Two trucks were parked inside. One he recognized—it was the Mendozas’ red Dodge. They had a handicap plate because Gianna was in a wheelchair. The other one was unfamiliar. Big and dark.
Careful to stay low, Bobby crept over to the unfamiliar truck. The passenger door was unlocked. He eased it open and peeked inside.
At first, he didn’t see much, just a fast-food bag, a pair of muddy boots, an old thermos, but then his stomach twisted.
Stuffed into the side pocket of the door was a rag. It was dark red, crusted stiff. Could’ve been mud. But it didn’tlooklike mud.
He stared at it, heart pounding, before slowly pushing the door closed with barely aclick.
Bobby backed away from the truck. He looked at the rear license plate. It was white with blue letters and numbers and readLouisiana.
He didn’t know the Mendozas had family in Louisiana. He thought they had always lived in Texas, like him. But people had family from lots of different places. His grandpa, his mom’s dad, lived in Oklahoma. But that was just on the other side of the river even though he didn’t visit much.
Maybe a friend? But it just seemed strange.
He needed to talk to his sister, but he didn’t want to go to the house. Not if… not if something was wrong. He had to find out. Avery had her radio, so why didn’t she answer him?
He quietly left the garage and ran over to the opposite side of the barn, careful to keep out of sight of the house while he did so. He squatted and stared at his radio, thinking. The creek was louder now, running through the trees and brush in front of him, though he couldn’t see it.
What should he say?
Would she even answer?
His lower lip trembled as he thought that something might have happened to his sister. But he had to be strong. He had to be a man, like Jake was a man after their dad died last year. So Bobby raised the radio and clicked.
“Avery, it’s me, I couldn’t find Cleo. Did you? Over.”
CHAPTER NINE
Bobby’s voice crackled through the radio, making Avery jump.
“Avery, it’s me, I couldn’t find Cleo. Did you? Over.”
She froze. The man stepped back into the kitchen, trailing cigarette smoke, closing the door behind him.
“Who’s that kid?” he asked, squinting at the radio. “Who’s Cleo?”
Avery forced a calm expression, though her insides twisted like a knot. “My brother, Bobby. He’s looking for our cat.”
The man narrowed his eyes at her, thinking. What was he thinking? What did he plan to do?
