Page 20 of Drowning Her

Eileen Hathaway had been missing for three months. The Feldman Farms hadn’t been called in until a few weeks earlier, which was when my father had failed to locate her. And while information about Eileen was scarce, there were hints she was still alive, living in these woods. A discarded water bottle. A forgotten sweater. A bent ID card. Empty paper bags. Someone was helping her survive out here, helping her avoid me.

But I wasn’t going to let that continue for much longer.

I set up a small camera inside of the bark of a tree, smaller than a horsefly, then set up a few more, opening the app on my phone to check that the footage was stable. If my instincts were right, not more than a day or twowould go by before either she or her accomplice would cross these lenses. Then I would know where they were, and I’d move onto the second name on my list for the Feldman Trial.

The Feldman Farm didn’t mean much to me, but it granted me security.

I trekked back to my SUV, my footsteps breaking up the chorus of croaking frogs, then drove to The Trap. Across from a power plant, the pink building came into focus. A sign held up two pinups, posed in the shape of a bear trap. Underneath it, the bubble text read,The only strip club with alcohol for a hundred miles!While my father and brother often held meetings here, I hated the place and hated myself for going there now, but I had some unfinished business to attend to myself.

Once I paid the entrance fee, I stood at the edge of the club, watching the exits carefully. When the dancers approached me, I dismissed them quickly, waiting for a specific woman’s attention. When she finally came over, a black dress snug against her form, she held out a hand with pointy fingernails.

“Hey,” she said. “I’m Bambi. I?—”

“VIP room,” I said. There was no point in wasting time.

“Sorry,” she grinned. “I got fired from dancing here a long time ago.” She glanced up at the stage, where one of the employed strippers glared down at her. “But we can have fun out there.” She tipped her head toward the front entrance.

The idea of ‘having fun’ in a parking lot wasn’t ideal.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” I said.

“I’m already drunk, baby. I just need your fun tonight.”

She subtly nodded to a blond man a few feet behind her. He grinned at me as if to encourage an encounter.

Green. Maisie’s ex-pimp.

Bambi didn’t have a choice, then. It was the parking lot or nothing. I followed her outside. We went to my SUV. Despite wearing thin heels, she hoisted herself up to the SUV. I sat in the driver’s seat.

“How much do you want?” I asked.

“For slip and slide?” she winked. “A hundred with a lifeboat. Two hundred without. And?—”

I gave her four hundred. She reached for my belt, but I blocked her from me.

“I want to ask you a few questions,” I said.

“Huh,” she said. She counted the bills again, her lips moving, then tucked them into her purse, humming to herself. “You even tipped me.” She wiggled her shoulders, then laid down, putting her head in my lap, draping herself over the console.

“If my man sees that I’m not working, he’ll question it. He gets jealous when we talk,” she said. “Says we’re being lazy.”

My skin crawled. I shoved her off of me.

“Lean on the console,” I said. “Pretend you’re using your hands.” She nodded, appeased. I crossed my arms, facing forward. “Tell me about Maisie.”

“Maisie?” Her eyes lit up. “We’ve known each other since high school. She’s a good one. Always looking out for me. Even from Green.”

I closed my eyes, then opened them slowly. “What happened with Green?”

“Well, you know how men can be,” she said. “One time, we were out with this party, and then I?—”

She started rambling, and though I kept my eyes focused, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to know about the men they had fucked together. Not because I cared, but because I didn’t care at all. Maisie existed solely to get my father offof my case. She was my wife by title only. Husband. Wife. Mother. Father. Son. None of it had any meaning.

“Did Green touch her?” I asked, interrupting her.

Bambi stilled, staying quiet. “Of course he touched her,” she said. “He’s our man.”

Was.I dug my fingernails into my legs, then faced Bambi, rage filling my skull.

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