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She laughs, the sound hollow and weak. “Do you really think I’d want to know? The more I know, the more of a liability I am and less of a chance I have of surviving. I purposely stayed far out of Billy’s business.”
Surviving. Not living, but surviving. That’s all Barbie’s been doing, and it’s all River has ever known. Pity forms in the pit of my stomach for River’s mother. I don’t feel bad for her situation, not when she’s been a terrible mother to River, but a part of me understands why Barbie has been. She’s been chained to a monster. And when you bring a child into that type of situation, sometimes it’s safer to make them hate you. Because if they hate you, they won’t grieve when you ultimately die. And if you refuse to attach to the person you brought into this world, it won’t hurt so bad when they leave you with your shackles while they go off to find a better life. Or in this case, if they die first.
It’s no excuse. No justification. But it’s Barbie’s logic.
“I think you know more than you ever let on,” I guess, cocking a brow. River has said before that Barbie mastered the ability to obtain information from her clients. She also mentioned that Billy would rant to Barbie in his crazed states, back when he was killing people the first time he got hooked on meth. Back when he killed my father. I’m sure all kinds of shit came out of his mouth in those moments—shit he more than likely doesn’t remember saying. The breath in Barbie’s lungs attests to that.
She?
??s street smart—even I can see that. Barbie may have made it look like she wasn’t listening and gleaning info from Billy, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t. She’s too smart to purposely stay clueless, especially when dealing with someone like him.
I’m becoming desperate. If Barbie doesn’t tell me anything, then I’m left with nothing. I’d have to start from scratch. Track down the people affiliated with Billy, find out where his stomping grounds are, and follow the fucker wherever he goes.
The washed-up woman flicks her cigarette before inhaling once more. Her hands are trembling and she’s sucking on that thing so deeply, that it’s obvious I’m right.
“What do you know, Barbie?” I demand through gritted teeth. When she doesn’t answer, I stalk towards her, slam a hand on the table—avoiding the needles—and put my face right into hers. Her eyes widen into round discs as she inhales sharply, stunned by my sudden proximity.
“I swear to fucking god, Barbie, if you don’t start talking, I will make all the years of suffering alongside Billy look like a fucking pipedream. Put that cigarette in your mouth one more fucking time without answering my goddamn question, and you’ll be swallowing the wrong end. Now. Where. Is. She?”
I stare straight into her dead eyes, now infused with the fear she’s been lacking since I told her that her daughter has been kidnapped by one of the most dangerous men in the country. Heavy breaths fall from her cracked lips, her chest pumping deeply.
“I… I’m being honest when I say I don’t know where he took her. But I do know that he conducts some of his… operations at Hawk’s downtown. He’s good for showing up there a few times a week. That’s the only information I have. I meant it when I said I stay out of his business.”
Liar. But I’ll take the little information she gave. Better than fucking nothing, I guess.
Without breaking eye contact, I slowly pull away. Her hand continues to tremble as she ashes the cigarette and then ever so gently, brings it to her lips.
“I’m going to find River. Alive. And then I’m going to take her home and give her the life she deserves. But you will never see her again. So, if you give any fucks about your daughter, then take comfort in the fact that she will live like a fucking queen while you rot here and waste away.”
She blows out a cloud of smoke and ashes her cigarette. She doesn’t look affected by my words, but she does bring her gaze to mine, an unnamed emotion glittering in the depths of her dead eyes.
“Thank you.”
She stands, drops the cigarette butt into a soda can, the cherry extinguishing in whatever liquid is in there. And then calmly walks past me and disappears down a hallway, shutting a door gently behind her.
Unsettled by her reaction, I turn towards the exit, push open the crooked door and slam it behind me. Right outside of her house, about a hundred feet away, is the river where River was born. It’s murky and lifeless, just like the rest of this town.
The complete opposite of the woman named after this body of water.
Because if River is as lifeless as the water before me, I will take great pleasure ripping Billy apart piece by fucking piece.
HAWK’S RESTAURANT IS PROBABLY the nicest building I’ve come across in Shallow Hill yet. Which is pretty fucking sad considering it looks like the building is starting to collapse in on itself. A twenty-four-hour Waffle House sits across the street, looking just as pathetic as its competition. I parked in the very back of the parking lot, closest to the street and in direct view of Hawk’s. The lack of foot traffic and the window spanning the front of the building provides me with a perfect view inside. Though I have to concentrate to see past the handprints and thin layer of grime coating the window.
If Billy is inside, storming in the restaurant like a Hellion is nipping at my ass wouldn’t get me anywhere except shot. All I’m waiting on is a warrant for Billy.
Billy knows my face. He’d only been giving me false leads and attempting to fuck with my case. And he would rather attempt homicide in front of Shallow Hill residents dining than let me cart his ass off to prison. After all, he owns Shallow Hill and if he succeeded in shooting me dead, no one would tell a soul. They’d probably even offer to help him hide my body.
My fist curls tight, my knuckles bleaching white. It takes all my strength not to send my fist flying through the windshield. My knee bounces, restless energy coursing through me. More seconds go by. Minutes. Hours. Until eventually, the restaurant closes and the lights go out. I’ve seen every type of person go in and out of that restaurant. Sex workers, pimps, drug users and dealers, and even some average joes who look like they work a nine-to-five job.
So many faces, but none the one that I need to see.
I throw my head back on my headrest and loose a harsh breath.
I need to go home and catch a few hours of sleep before I come back out. By then, I’ll have my warrant. Because when I do, I will hunt for my girl in every house in this shitty town if I have to.
“HAVE YOU GOTTEN ANY sleep?” Amar asks from beside me.
My fingers tick on my thigh as I continue to stare at the restaurant. It’s only ten in the morning and it’s been a week since River has been taken. A week of her going through god-knows-what abuse at the hands of a walking dead man. He’s been elusive. No leads. No tags. Nothing. I refrained from banging on random doors. Only because I know Billy runs this town and if word gets out that a detective is looking for him or River, he’d go into hiding like a groundhog that just saw his shadow.
