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“What? That’s it.”
“You’ve told me everything you know.” I rapped the table with my knuckles twice. “See you next week.”
His chair scraped as he stood. “But you don’t have anything to get me out of here.”
“I’m still not sure that’s what you want.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“Then it’s up to me to piece the rest together. I can’t do that here.”
“Don’t point the finger at that kid.” Abraham sounded almost desperate.
“I’m going where the evidence leads.”
I poweredup my phone as soon as I exited the prison. A litany of chimes went off as a series of texts came in from my PI.
Instead of reading them, I pressed his contact.
“The girl’s into some serious shit.”
I scrubbed my forehead. “What girl?”
“The one you asked me to chase. From the shelter.”
My shoulders sagged. “Cricket.”
“That’s the one. Girl’s in deep with the kind of people who even scare me.”
Dread filled me at having to tell Trish the bad news. “Can she get away from them?”
“There’s only one way.”
Shit. “Do they know she’s working on the food truck?”
“They know every time she breathes. She thinks she’s got them fooled, but trust me, if they didn’t allow her to be at the shelter, she wouldn’t be there.”
“You think they planted her there?” I climbed into the back of the waiting car.
“My instinct says no. She tries too hard to ghost around when she comes and goes. But I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
“Anything else with her?”
“I saw her stick something into her arm.”
“What?”
“A syringe. No idea what was in it, but I got a pretty good guess.”
“Do you ever have good news for me?” My head thumped against the back seat.
“I’ve located your problem girl.”
“Terra Blunt?”
“Yep. Hiding out on Long Island. Has three kids, a dog, and a husband who is a pastor.”
“So she’s okay?”
