She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,172

him light a match and drop it into a puddle on the ground. I didn’t get down because he told me to or because I wanted to. I got down because the explosion knocked me off my feet.

I woke to the crash of thunder, my body covered in sweat.

The sun had risen but was dim, hidden behind churning desert storm clouds and the rat, tat, tat, of rainfall.

On the bed beside me, Stella was gone.

The sheets on her side of the bed were pulled back. The spot where she had lain was cold.

“Stella?”

No answer.

I checked the bathroom first, but she wasn’t there. Her gloves were no longer beside the sink. Her duffle bag was gone, too.

The phone rang. A shrill, harsh sound. I stared at it for a good, long while before finally scooping up the receiver. I didn’t say anything, but I could hear someone breathing on the other end of the line, then a male voice. “Jack?”

Dunk.

“Yeah?”

“You all right? You sound funny.”

Not all right.

Not at all.

“I can’t talk. What do you need?”

“Oh, shit! Does that mean you found her? Is she there right now? Did you finally get to—”

I cut him off. “What is it, Dunk?”

He blew out a breath. “My man. Pulling all kinds of triggers this week. Good for you.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Hold up. My guy found one of your names.”

“Which one?”

“Cammie Brotherton. Although, she’s not Cammie Brotherton anymore. She’s Faye Mauck now. She changed her name a half dozen times over the years, moved all over the country.”

I pressed the receiver tighter against my ear. “Wait, she’s still alive?”

“Shouldn’t she be? Why else would you have me look for her?”

The list I made of the Penn State names was sitting next to the phone, on top of the yearbook. My copy of Great Expectations was gone. Stella must have taken the book with her. “Do you have an address?”

He read it off to me. I found a pen and scribbled the address down on the pad of motel stationery.

Carmel, California.

“Got something else, too. Have you ever heard of something called Charter?”

“No, why?”

“People are asking about you around town, trying to find you. My guys picked one of ’em up and talked to him. At first he said he was an old friend, but once they all got to know each other a little better, he opened up, got chatty. He told them he was with an outfit called Charter. Said it was real important that he found you.”

“Talked to him, huh?”

“Yeah. Talked to him, nice and neat. My guys said he was packing, a Colt Anaconda six-shot revolver. That’s no joke. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide it, either. They said he wore it right on his belt under his coat, Old West style.”

I perked up. “Coat? What kind of coat?”

“How the hell should I know? Think I’m some kind of fashion guru?”

“What color was his coat?”

“Dunno. If it’s important, I’ll ask when I see Reid.”

“It’s important.”

“Okay.” Dunk’s voice dropped low. “Hey, Jack? She still sleeping? How ’bout giving Stella a poke for me? From what I’ve heard, she’s a—”

I hung up and tore off the sheet of stationery and shoved it in my pocket.

If Cammie was still alive, the others might be, too.

The hotel room door burst open and Stella came in, her clothing soaked through, her dark hair dripping, her skin deathly pale. “We need to go.”

I let out a breath.

She closed the door quickly behind her, went to the window, and pulled back the curtain slightly. Her hand was trembling again. I looked out the window over her shoulder.

The rain fell in thick sheets, bouncing off the cracked pavement.

Six white cars now. One blocked the parking lot exit. Another was parked directly behind my Jeep. Three more across the lot and a white Cadillac Escalade parked in the center of the lot, two of the doors open. A man I didn’t recognize stood on the driver’s side, a cell phone pressed to his ear, oblivious to the rain. His long, white trench coat buttoned tight.

“I put my things in the Jeep. The Escalade pulled up when I was coming back up the stairs. I don’t think they saw me.”

“Did you see any other people?”

She shook her head. “Only the two guys in the Cadillac, but somebody moved those other cars.”

My knife was at the bottom of Hermon Reservoir. We had no other weapons.

I looked around the room, then went to the dresser beside the bed and pulled open the drawer,