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“Hello and welcome to our snowy little town. I’m Elisabeth Anderson. What can I do for ya?”
She leans forward, showing off a bit of cleavage and I get the impression she might be offering more than just food and a bed. In a way, doing neither of them justice, she reminds me of that Davenport woman. The memory makes me grit my teeth with unease. I shudder and shake it off. I hope to fucking God she left the continent.
“I’m looking for a place to stay for the night. Any rooms available?”
“Will ya be staying more than one night?”
I sigh. This’ll be one long test of my patience.
She prepares some papers for me to sign. A key with a huge wooden tag attached to it appears next to the forms. I lift the pen just as an ice-cold gust of wind hits my neck and the door slams shut again.
“Ray, honey! What’s up?”
“It’s winta soon, Beth, daymn the temperature’s dropped!”
I freeze when I recognize the light voice. Fuckinghell. It’s the fatty from the smelly grocery store. I can’t believe my bad luck. Pulling my cap down further, I stare at the forms and start writing. I virtually feel their gazes burn holes in the back of my coat.
“So… ehm, what’re ya up to, Ray?” she finally says, hesitantly.
“Yeah… I’m going up to Miss Kerry and the kid with some supplies. They might be needing that now if this is gonna get any worse, and I know she won’t eva’ agree to come down here where it’s safer.”
I freeze for the second time in less than a minute.
No.
It’s not possible.
Not here of all places. And there are thousands of Kerry’s in the world. And why would she live in Canada? And why the fuckhere? They keep talking behind my back and when the door suddenly slams shut again my initial shock wears off in an instant.
I’m sure it’s nothing.
Nothing worth bothering about.
I fucking can’t—
“I’m sorry, I think I forgot my wallet back at the gas station. I’ll be back.” I drop the pen on the counter and push the door open just as Ray steps into his blue pick-up.
“I can call Dan!” she shouts behind my back. “Ya don’t hafta go out!”
But I’ve already covered half the distance to my car. It’s such a vague hunch, a long shot, but it’s impossible to still my beating heart. And it’s not like I have much else to do I tell myself, my growling stomach effectively silenced from the adrenaline.
When Ray rolls out from the parking lot my motor starts humming.
The hunt is on.
Twenty-One
Kerry
Autumn is turning into winter and I love it. We had a couple of chilly days, with a thin layer of ice on the puddles of water. Ice both me and Cece jumped on and cracked, giggling as we ran around. Now everything is gray and muddy, though. Almost all the leaves have fallen off the thick foliage. The tree crowns stand tall, the branches pointing to the sky like desperate fingers, clutching for the faint sun.
Cecilia has outgrown her overall, arms and legs are too short. I let her play for half an hour, wetness creeping into her ankles and wrists. She’s fresh faced and steaming, but her skin is cold when I decide it’s enough.
I hang her muddy, wet overall and prepare a bath as I make myself a steaming cup of coffee with a little milk and read yesterday’s paper. Ray brought it with the latest delivery. They warn again for the storm. It will hit tonight. Dusk is still a few hours away, and I ponder the pile of logs under my porch. I should collect more if we’ll be trapped inside and it might get colder. I have to make yet another round before nightfall to gather as much as I can bring. The problem is I can’t bring her. Her overall is wet. I make a quick calculation. After the bath, when she’s eaten, she’ll sleep, and if I don’t wake her, she can easily sleep for at least two hours and I wouldn’t be gone more than one at most. A twinge of guilt stabs me, but it’s necessary, and completely safe. She can’t get anywhere. I will hear through the silent forest if anyone approaches for at least a mile ahead, and no one comes here. Not even Ray after being at the receiving end of my anger the other day.
It’s safe.
I’ll be quick and she’ll never know I was gone.
