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She moves back to the kitchen, and I resist the urge to drum my fingers off the table.
I’m ready to leave. It hasn’t exactly been a waste of time, but we’re on a countdown. We need to call Cheryl and Everett, update them on what we’ve found before we go looking for anything more.
“Cherry pie,” Rachel says. “I haven’t had a slice in forever.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tried it,” I admit.
“That’s insane. Tell me you’ve had apple.”
“Maybe, when I was a kid. I’m really more into savory snacks.”
“Spoken like a typical guy,” she says. “You’re trying this pie when we get home.”
“If I must,” I murmur, smiling when she laughs.
She’s surprisingly easy going. I’m not sure what I expected Cheryl’s best friend to be like, but I can see why they get along.
The waitress arrives with the boxed pie and our check.
I get out my wallet and pass her what we owe plus a tip.
“Thanks.”
“We’ll be sure to stop by next time we’re on the road,” Rachel adds.
We get up. Rachel picks up the box with the pie in it.
I open the door for her, and wave to the waitress when she calls out, “Don’t be a stranger!”
I take out the car keys and unlock it.
We get inside and I let out a sigh.
“That was pretty tense,” I murmur as I belt up.
“There’s definitely a weird vibe here,” Rachel agrees. “I don’t think we should drive through town. We should go back the way we came.”
“Agreed,” I tell her.
“I’ll call Cheryl.” She gets out her phone as I drive us out of the parking lot.
“Crap,” she mutters.
I glance over to see she bumped the pie box, and the lid is loose now.
She sticks the phone under her chin to fix the lid, then removes it again after she opens it instead.
“What the hell?” she murmurs.
I glance at her as she takes a napkin out of the box.
It looks like there’s something written on it.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s a cry for help,” she says, cursing under her breath. “Something’s really wrong with this place.”
I take us out of town as she shuts the box and sets the note down on top.
