“She came from the room side. She got in and left.” His voice went thin around the edges. “I didn’t know there was a problem.”
I stared at him until he looked away.
That wasn’t useful, and it wasn’t his fault.
That didn’t make it easier to hear.
“Did she turn left or right out of the lot?”
“Right,” he said fast. “Toward the pass. I’m pretty sure.”
Pretty sure was better than nothing.
I took one breath, then another. “If anyone asks, you don’t know anything else.”
“I really don’t.”
“I believe you.”
He didn’t seem comforted.
I left the office and called North Fork from the lot.
The after-hours line rang twice before it clicked through. I expected the night-desk voice from last night. Instead, Annette Haynes came on with the dry bite of a woman who had answered too many disaster calls before coffee.
“North Fork Bail Bonds. This better be worth waking me up twenty minutes early.”
“It’s Tolliver.”
The line went quiet.
Then all the sleep left her voice. “What happened?”
“Kemp escaped from Pine Shadow before dawn. She stole my pickup.”
Annette didn’t swear. That was how I knew it was bad. She made one small sound through her nose, the kind she used when a recovery agent had handed her a mess and expected her to make it polite for paperwork.
“Are you injured?” she asked.
“No.”
“Is she injured?”
“No blood, no crash, no sign of force. She left the room under her own power.”
“Restraints?”
“Left in the room.”
“Your phone?”
“In my hand.”
“Your keys?”
“Gone from the right front pocket of my jeans.”
A pause.
