For now, I had to wonder again whether or not the therapist was full of shit. I assumed she was an hour ago, but to be fair, I knew she hadn’t lied about at least one thing. I’d heard that cracked fountain story before, from the mouth of someone who could actually be trusted.
So maybe Fitzgibbons did feel guilty in the end, after all. Maybe the place she described really existed in Dorseyville.
“It’s Revell Drive now,” the man said. “Want me to write that down for ya?”
“I think I can remember it. But thanks, that’s really helpful.”
“No problem. Sorry you had to drive so far out of your way.”
“I’ll say hi to Jon Lee for you,” I said with a wink, still faking a convivial air.
The guy laughed, then gave me a wave and headed back into his house, no longer suspicious of me or my intentions.
I uploaded my new destination into my GPS and took off, going as fast as I could on the slick roads as the rain started up again.
The minutes seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace, and I drummed my hands on the steering wheel, willing the traffic in the city to clear. It was almost rush hour by now, though, so what was meant to be a fifty minute drive was going to take more like an hour and a half, and the congestion wouldn’t be clearing anytime soon. Especially with all this fucking rain.
Finally, I made it to Dorseyville. Revell Drive was on the outskirts, all large chunks of land with a thick patch of forest stretching into the distance behind it. Just like Fitzgibbons described.
“Well, well,” I muttered as I parked at the end of the long driveway that led to number fourteen. “Looks like you deserved that quick death after all.”
This was the right place, beyond a shadow of doubt. The same dark car with government plates that I’d seen on the footage from my property was sitting by a little house, half-hidden behind a patch of thick green shrubbery.
I broke out into a run, my heart pounding. “I’m coming, angel,” I muttered, my body flooding with adrenaline. “I’m fucking coming….”