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“Okay. That’s it,” she told me with a firm nod, like she was trying to convince herself. Given enough time, she’d probably be taking the art off the walls.
But we put all her stuff in the SUV, then climbed in.
“Oh, word to the wise,” I said as I started the car. “Don’t touch the cat.”
To that, she looked over, brows scrunched.
“You have a cat?”
“The club has a cat.”
“Why can’t I touch him?”
“Because he has this quirk… he hates women. All of them. Even with several living in the clubhouse. I know you’re going to go all ‘I’m sure I’m the exception’ on him. ‘Cause all the girls have. But you have been warned. Everyone has scars from trying.”
“Noted,” she said with a nod. “Any other animals there?” she asked.
“ Dell has a corgi who will think you are his best friend in the world. Because everyone is. And Murphy has her two very well-trained German Shepherds,” I said. “You’re not afraid of dogs, are you?” I asked.
“No! No, I love dogs. I would love to have a dog. But the apartment…” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What kind of dog? If you could have one.”
“You’ll make fun of me.”
Not a chance of that.
“I won’t. Something small, right?” I figured. It would fit her aesthetic.
“I want a Pekingese. I know! I know. Everyone thinks they’re ugly. But I think they’re unusually cute. Especially the beige ones with the black faces. I could sit and brush one all day and night,” she said wistfully.
I wasn’t a dog expert, but my mind flashed with a long-haired fluff ball with a flat face. She was right. Objectively, kinda ugly. But I could see how she would think that it was in a cute way.
We fell into a silence as soon as we pulled onto the main street in town, and her gaze slid to the prison, every bit of her tensing.
“That’s not gonna happen,” I told her. And not only because Shady Valley Penitentiary only housed men.
“I need to believe that,” she said, voice small. “I, ah, I didn’t handle jail well,” she admitted. “Our bunks were in the common area. And there were like twenty or so of us. It was loud even at night. Thank God for Della…”
“Della?” I asked.
“Oh, she was in the holding cell when I got to the SVPD. She’s a sex worker. She went with me to County. And she’d been there before, so she kind of showed me the ropes. I think I would have been in a nonstop panic attack if not for her. But she was arraigned and released the next day.”
So she was all alone in a crowded, unfamiliar place full of perpetrators of unknown crimes, and not even a door to make her feel safer.
No wonder it looked like she hadn’t slept since I’d seen her last.
“Della,” I repeated. “Don’t think I know of her. But we can track her down if you want to thank her,” I said.
“That would be great, actually,” she said, giving me a small smile.
“I’ll talk to Jack.”
“Jack. From the motel?” she asked.
“Yeah. Working girls frequent the motel. Men stepping out on their wives. Newly released prisoners. Truckers coming through and spending the night. That kinda thing. He would know their names and when they’re usually around.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that would be great. I’d love to… buy her a coffee or something,” she said as I pulled into the lot of the clubhouse. “Wow,” she said, looking up at it. “I mean, you could tell it’s big from down in town, but it’s even more massive up close.”
