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He gave me a funny look. “Like I’d make you do this by yourself?”
Anyone else would have.
What did it say about me that the only person lining up to help me was the right-hand man to Bad Luck herself?
Chapter Nine
We had two cars, and neither of us could agree who would drive.
Taking both was stupid, as we would be able to double our miles if we traded off on driving shifts, but each of us was stubborn to the core and hated the idea of leaving our trusted mount behind.
Finally, he bested me with logic by pointing out that I still needed time to recuperate, and if he was going to be doing most of the driving, we ought to do it in his car.
I made arrangements with the temple to have someone collect my Mustang, but I wasn’t happy about it. If I didn’t have my car, it felt like I was giving up some of my control over the situation, making it less my job and more his. I didn’t like it. Control was important to me. It was the one thing I had that kept me from feeling like I was a pawn in someone else’s chess game.
Whitefish was practically on the Canadian border, so the sun was already fully risen and beating down on us mercilessly by the time we drove through Missoula and I insisted we stop for breakfast. The crushing pain of the previous night’s events had dulled, only to be replaced with a hunger unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
Hangry was the word people used to describe hunger that made people cranky.
If there was a word for being an empty, bottomless pit in need of sustenance who would murder anything in her path to get to a large stack of pancakes, that was me. I was a veritable black hole.
We stopped at the first Denny’s we could find, and Cade ordered a black coffee while I asked for pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns and a vanilla milkshake. “As fast as humanly possible.” My hands were shaking from lowered blood sugar, and if I didn’t get food soon, I’d start drinking from the syrup bottle.
“I was the same way when I was expecting my first,” our waitress said, giving Cade a knowing wink. “A real bear.”
I didn’t get a chance to correct her as she left to put in our order.
Cade had the good grace to wait until she was gone before he let out a snort of laughter. “Congrats.”
“Do I look pregnant?” I demanded. I glanced down at my belly to be sure, but nope, still skinny. I’d probably be too skinny if not for the muscle I had managed to accumulate. Instead I just looked like a runner.
Cade gave me a once-over, and I was suddenly very aware of his gaze lingering on me when he said, “You do not.”
We still had another six states to drive through. If the past twenty-four hours was any indication, we would either murder each other or fuck each other stupid before this trip was done. I honestly wasn’t sure which of those two options was more dangerous.
The waitress returned with Cade’s coffee and my milkshake, and I was too grateful for the calories to bother correcting her. Maybe she’d bring my food faster if she thought I was eating for two.
Cade sipped his coffee in contented silence while I ate my weight in carbs and fat, barely taking time to breathe between bites as the plates were dropped off. I was ravenous. Pancakes and eggs had never tasted so good to me before. I’d have traded just about anything for some honey garlic chicken, but it was much too early in the day to go hunting for a Chinese restaurant.
While I ate, too focused on the food to think of anything else, Cade pulled out his phone. It occurred to me I hadn’t looked at my own in almost twenty-four hours, meaning my app requests would be astronomical. Whatever genius decided to make a digital way for people to request answers to their prayers was someone I would like to meet and introduce to my powers firsthand. Every day I got dozens of requests for things ranging from Water my flowerbeds to Flood my street so I don’t have to work tomorrow. The app also showed how much had been tithed to go along with the prayer.
More money didn’t necessarily mean a prayer would be answered, but it did boost it to the top of the pile. Cade was scrolling through something on his phone, frowning with deep concentration. I swallow
ed a bite of sausage and asked, “Lots of requests?”
He shook his head. “The temple took me offline when I called this morning. They’ll be dealing with things locally I guess.” He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug.
“Then why do you look like you’re reading your own obituary?” I dipped a slice of bacon in my leftover syrup and popped the salty-sweet perfection into my mouth.
“I’m trying to find a birth record for this kid we’re looking for.”
Oh. That was actually…well, that was actually super smart. My mouth was too full to say so, so I nodded approvingly. I didn’t behave like a lady at the best of times, but I wasn’t going to try carrying on a conversation while stuffing my face.
Realizing I wasn’t going to say anything else, he added, “There’s no birth record for a Leo Marquette in the last twenty years. I can’t find him in any of the public school listings.”
“Do they post those online for the public?” I asked.
He gave me a sly smile. “No.”
