Page 98 of Another Girl Lost

“Why don’t I buy you a meal first? You’ve got to be hungry.”

“Sure. Okay.” Inside my truck the scents of jail and the streets hung heavily in the air. “Why did you do it?”

The simple question came too loaded for me to respond. “Do what?”

“Bail me out.”

“Ah,” I said, relaxing. “Because I meant it when I said I wanted to help you.”

She scratched her pale, freckled arms. “That asshole Dawson arrested me.”

Dawson. He got around. “What did he want?”

“To know more about you. But I was high.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember what he said.”

“Where did he arrest you?”

“At Jeremy’s house.”

“You just happened on him?”

Nervous laughter bubbled, but it held no joy. “I’m there a lot.”

“Do you remember the night I saw you there? It was early July.”

“Kind of. It was really crowded.”

“Whoever called the cops that night and reported the location of Sandra’s body did it from Jeremy’s block.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. How would I know something like that?”

“Okay.” I drew in a breath. I didn’t know what to believe now.

“You believe me, right?”

“Sure.”

I drove back toward my place and parked behind the warehouse. Out of the truck, I started walking, and she followed. I could feel the tension radiating from her body. Down the block from my place was a Chinese restaurant. “Anything you want?”

“Whatever is fine.” She leaned against the brick wall, tipping her face.

Ten minutes later I came out with a bag filled with three different entrées. “Come on.”

Again, Tiffany followed me to my warehouse, and after punching in the security lock code, we were inside. She sat on a barstool at the small kitchen counter while I unloaded the food. I set out plates, opened the container, and handed her a fork and a cold soda from the refrigerator. We both ate in silence for ten or fifteen minutes, and when she finished off her soda, I grabbed her a fresh one.

“Your coloring is better,” I said.

“My head is pounding, but not as bad as before.”

“Good.” But it wouldn’t be long before fresh cravings started.

“I need to get to my car.”

“Where is it?”

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