town and followed the two-lane S curve that would eventually lead to Tybee Island if I kept driving. It was a desolate stretch of land, marshy in most areas with big trees overtaken by kudzu. There wasn’t another house or business for miles.
I pressed hard on the brakes as another curve snuck up on me, and we all jerked against our seat belts.
“Take it easy,” Scarlet said. “I gotta go to the bathroom. I’m an old lady. I can’t hold it like I used to.”
“Look around and see if there’s a jar or an empty bottle,” Rosemarie said. “Men are always carrying stuff like that in their cars. They can pee anywhere. Lucky ducks.”
“I once saw a man pee while he was skiing down a black diamond,” Scarlet said. “It was very impressive. Doesn’t work the same for women. Don’t ask me how I know that.”
I curled my lip in disgust and tried not to think about it, but all the potty talk made me have to go too, though I didn’t think Vince would appreciate us taking a pit stop while he was being held hostage.
“This road is creepy,” Rosemarie said. “This is some Deliverance shit right here.”
Rosemarie unbuckled her seat belt, and she ducked down in her seat. It looked like I was driving around with a brown thorny shrub in the passenger seat.
“What are you doing?” I asked Rosemarie.
“This is just like the movies,” she said. “We’re driving into sniper territory. You think you’re just driving along, peaceful as can be, and then BOOM! You get a bullet in your forehead and your brains are all over the back seat. I’m just taking precautions.”
“I’m going to move behind you then,” Scarlet said, scooting across the seat. “Seems like it’d be less of a mess.”
I slowed down, not because I was afraid of snipers, but because I didn’t want to accidentally drive right up on them.
The storage facility was very nice by Whiskey Bayou standards. There was an office unit and parking area in front, but since it was past closing time the lot was empty. The storage units were protected by a massive wrought-iron fence with stone pillars between the panels, and there was an intimidating arched gate at the front that said Whiskey Bayou Storage. I knew the gate was locked, but I hung back a couple of minutes, trying to decide the best course of action.
“Maybe they’ll think we’re customers coming to get something out of our unit,” Rosemarie said. “What kind of stuff do people keep in storage units?”
“Cash, weapons, fake IDs…” Scarlet said. “I had a very nice facility in France once that was temperature controlled. I lived there a whole month while a group of nefarious criminals searched the countryside for me.”
“How’d you eat and shower?” Rosemarie asked.
“I had a hot plate and I took a whore’s bath in the lobby water fountain every night after everyone left.”
“Good to know that’s an option,” I said under my breath.
“The gate is locked,” Scarlet said. “I say you plow through and we go in guns blazing. The element of surprise is on our side, and there’s nothing quite like a good shootout.”
“Or I could just use the gate code and we could go in stealthily so we don’t get shot,” I said. “Getting shot isn’t my favorite thing.”
“I’ve never enjoyed it too much either,” Scarlet said. “But the drugs aren’t too bad. I enjoy morphine from time to time.”
“I’ve never been shot,” Rosemarie said. “I kind of feel left out.”
“I’m not sure having hot lead pierce your skin is one of those things you should be envious of,” I said.
Rosemarie didn’t look convinced, but she let it go.
“How do you know what the code is?” Scarlet asked, her head sticking out between the two front seats like a golden retriever.
“It’s taped to the front of the box,” I said. “I guess the manager got tired of people forgetting the code.”
“Doesn’t seem like much reason to have that fancy gate,” Scarlet said.
I typed in the code and the gate slid open soundlessly. I pulled through and then watched the gate close behind me with finality.
“Geez,” Rosemarie said. “Anyone have a bad feeling?”
“I ate that lasagna on the plane,” Scarlet said. “It’s making me a little gassy, but I figured no one would notice because Addison smells so bad.”
“I don’t smell any worse than the two of you,” I said. Though to be honest, I’d stopped being able to smell the moment I’d come up for