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A slight glimmer of pain showed in her gaze, and she let it shine. A sheen of tears appeared. She only blinked those away, moving so she was standing in the doorway, and hugged her jacket tighter around herself. She was pale. Her skin was usually kept tan from sitting outside in the sun so much, but it’d lost that color. “No. Wallace passed on a year ago. Cancer.” She cursed, her hand flicking away one of her tears. “Damn things. I don’t know why I’m crying. He was an abusive asshole most days. I spent most of my time keeping him out or keeping him away from here. Nothing good, was he.” She drew in a deep breath, shaking her head slightly. “Guess you miss what you know, right? Enough about me.” Her eyes flicked past me. “You won’t find your sister there, if that’s who you’re looking for. Last I saw, she’d been holed up at her boyfriend’s.”
Yes, that guy. “What’s his name?”
Her eyes narrowed a bit. “I was relieved when those kids were taken out of there. Considered reaching out, but you know the situation. Your sister’s gotten worse since this last boyfriend. He ain’t a good one. He was around a while back, then was gone. He’s been back again. I tried convincing Stevie to live here, or sleep here, but she was too worried about the other ones. Then your sister stopped showing up, and around a week later, vehicles pulled up and those kids were taken out of there. I hope everything’s being made correct regarding them.”
“His name?” I repeated.
She was studying me, knowing the situation, which a new surge of fury lit through me. She knew and she hadn’t said anything? Course she wouldn’t reach out, that’d make her a narc.
“I’ve no doubt you’ll find him.” She raised her chin up. “You’ll get his name then.”
She fully knew what I was planning on doing.
God, this life. It had a way of always pulling you back unless you got out and stayed out, and look at where I was. Back here. “I need the boyfriend’s name, Mabel.”
Her gaze continued to hold mine for a good thirty seconds as she was weighing whatever she saw in me, what she heard from me, and maybe what she remembered of me as a kid. I’d been one of those sitting at her table, the sound of popcorn popping in the microwave.
The buttery and slightly burnt smell wafted over me.
I felt it all again.
The fear. The desperation. I didn’t know what was right back then. I only knew how to survive.
She drew back inside her trailer. The door shut. A long minute later, she came back out and extended me a piece of paper. “Once you get there, you burn that.”
I took it, seeing a street name. It was enough. I could find him from this.
“It’s nice seeing you, Little Monster. I’ve no doubt you’ll do what you need to do.” She went back inside, shut the door, locked it.
The outside light turned off.
62
BILLIE
I still wasn’t quite sure who the guy was driving me to Roussou. Chan…d—no. I was blaming the wine still. I couldn’t ask his name again, but he told me he knew Brett from school. I’d asked if they were friends and he just laughed at me. He might’ve mentioned something about that, but he’d not elaborated on the laugh. I hadn’t asked any more questions.
We drove the rest of the way in silence until, as we entered Roussou, which Brett was right, was so much smaller than Fallen Crest, when his phone rang.
He hit accept. “Did you find him?”
Another male voice said, “Got a couple calls from different sources. He was at his sister’s trailer, but the last tip said he’s parked out front of a house, down on Boll. Shannon’s current boyfriend lives there. Cory Hughes. He’s got a bad rap sheet. Domestic violence. Restraining orders.” The guy got quiet before clipping out, “He’s a drug dealer.”
“Text me his house number.”
“No problem. Texting now.”
They ended the call, right as another beep came through his phone.
Since entering Roussou, he’d grown harder and harder. He’d been hard to begin with and I was surprised at how I could sense that considering I’d only gotten irritation from him, but this was different. The call helped, adding a cold feeling that would normally have my alarm-senses tingling, except they weren’t. The only thing I was alarmed about was getting to Brett now.
I surveyed the street as we slowed and took another turn.
He was slowing down, looking from house to house.
I picked up his phone, swiping the screen to see the last text.
“Hey,” he balked.
