The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,66

The moon had risen, a waning sickle balanced on the valley’s rim. The sky was dark except where a narrow gash of stars opened to the east.

The powder-blue Plymouth was exactly where Wanda had told them. They walked around it once. The tires were decent, but the wheel wells were full of rust. The front and back bumpers both showed the dings and dents accumulated over the years. Inside, the pleather upholstery had peeled away in places, exposing the foam padding underneath. A beaded cover hung over the driver’s seat.

Jem pulled a folding slim jim out of his pocket, extended it, and worked on the driver’s door for a couple of minutes. Then he let out a smooth breath, pulled up, and the lock disengaged. He opened the door, leaned on it with one elbow, and flourished the slim jim. Tean tried to smile and handed him the disposable gloves he’d brought from the truck. Jem squeezed his arm, holding on a little too long for Tean’s comfort, his eyes unreadable the way they’d been in Wanda’s home.

In the glove box, they found a packet of Clorox wipes, travel-sized tissues, insurance and registration, and the Plymouth’s original manual—someone had stuck chewing gum between two pages. Tean popped the trunk and moved around to the back. Jem crawled into the back seat.

“Jem.”

“I found a quarter and, oh God, a diaphragm. And I touched it with my bare hands!”

“Jem.”

Inside the trunk lay a shoulder bag and a bulging business-size envelope. Tean took the shoulder bag, opened it, and began laying out the contents: wallet, sanitary napkins, spearmint Tic Tacs, two blue Bic roller ball pens, an eyeglasses case that held a pair of cheaters, and more tissues in plastic packaging that was thin and dingy with age. The wallet held twelve dollars in cash, Joy Erickson’s driver’s license, several credit cards in her name, and a blank check drawing on a Wells Fargo account shared by Joy Erickson and Azalea Maynes. When Tean nudged aside the Wells Fargo check, he saw a Kneaders receipt. At first glance, he thought it must have been from the last time Joy had eaten at Kneaders, when she had left her car there. But instead, he saw that it was dated for April 16—the day before Joy had arranged to meet Becca.

“Holy shit,” Jem said, displaying the envelope for Tean. Cash was stuffed inside. “It’s mostly twenties, a few fifties. I bet there’s a thousand dollars in here. Maybe more.”

“I’m going to call Ammon.”

They put everything back the way they had found it and returned to the truck. Tean placed the call to Ammon. Ammon didn’t yell, which was worse, but several times he must have pulled the phone away because their conversation was interrupted by dead patches, and when Ammon’s voice came back, it had that brittle, artificial calm that was starting to make Tean want to smash things. When it was over, he shook his head without looking over at Jem.

“Don’t say anything.”

Jem just sighed and squeezed Tean’s shoulder, his hand warm and pleasantly heavy, his blunt fingers teasing the muscles there.

Tean called Hannah next. She didn’t answer, but he let her know they’d found Joy’s car. Disconnecting, he shifted the truck into gear and guided the Ford out of Perkins Towing and Impound. They headed north. It wasn’t even eight yet, but Heber had slowed to a stop. The wide main street was brightly lit and empty, the orange glow and the ashy shadows uncanny in the total absence of life.

Then Tean’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered anyway.

“Dr. Leon,” the voice was rough with emotion, but under other circumstances, Tean thought it would have been light and musical. “This is Zalie Maynes.”

Tean switched the phone to speaker and thumped Jem’s leg because Jem was playing some fruit-slicing game on his phone again.

“Yes, hello, Ms. Maynes. Thank you for returning my call.”

“Hannah just contacted me. She said you found Joy’s car.”

“We think so.”

“A piece of trash Plymouth?”

“That sums it up.”

“Oh God,” Zalie said, the word on the edge of a sob. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Of course—”

“Right now if you can.”

Tean glanced at Jem, who screwed up his face to show how dumb he thought Tean was and mouthed, Duh.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Tean said, and he pegged Jem in the leg as hard as he could when he disconnected.

20

On their second trip to the pig farm, the gravel drive and the farm itself were both