Page 14 of No More Secrets

Across the road she enters the Dollar General, dropping her backpack off with the first cashier. She paces up an aisle, down another. A woman reads the ingredients on a box of rice. Her shopping basket rests at her feet, her purse inside. Shiloh crouches, grabs a box of rice from the bottom shelf, and keeps walking. She rounds the end cap, returns the box to another shelf, retrieves her backpack, and leaves the store. Once she reaches the sidewalk, she opens the woman’s wallet, removes a single dollar, and drops the wallet in the trash.

She wants to cry over the measly pickings, but she keeps walking.

The sky darkens, the hour growing late.

Shiloh enters a restaurant, a seafood and steak eatery. Grilled meat and fried fish assail her. Her stomach cramps with hunger. She asks for a menu as she scopes the layout for dine-and-dash potential. Handbags on chairbacks she can lift. But the hostess looks down her nose. Shiloh isn’t only underdressed, her clothes are filthy. Her shirt reeks of body odor.

Embarrassed by her appearance, she steps back from the hostess stand. “Where’s the bathroom?” she asks.

The hostess points behind her.

Shiloh moves quickly down the hallway only to abruptly stop at a door markedEMPLOYEESONLY. She eyes the kitchen behind her, the emergency exit at the end of the hallway. An alarm will sound, but she’s alone in the hall. She peeks inside the room, finding it empty. Her stomach rolls with nerves. It’s risky, but she slips inside, desperation making her bold. The door winks shut behind her.

Lockers cover one wall, and most have combo locks. Blood pulsing in her ears, she tries each accessible locker, leaving the doors open so she doesn’t make too much noise, and strikes gold on the last one. A man’s brown-leather billfold hides in a pile of neatly folded clothes.

The door behind her opens. Shiloh whirls, wide eyed, the billfold disappearing into the folds of her sweatshirt. The hostess stands in the doorway.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Her gaze swings to the opened lockers behind Shiloh.

“Sorry, looking for the bathroom.” Shiloh pushes by and runs from the restaurant, the hostess hollering after her.

Terrified, she sprints a block, then two, unaware and uncaring of where she’s running, only that she needs to put distance between her and where she’s been.

Several blocks down, she veers into a parking lot and ducks behind a hedge to inspect the wallet she snagged. A five and two ones. She adds the bills to the others and throws the wallet into the bushes.

Eleven dollars over five hours.

This city sucks.

She runs again, a full sprint in the only direction she knows. The encampment.

Sweat drips into her eyes, and tears drench her cheeks as her arms pump. Her lungs strain, and her breath comes in bursts. She cries out with a sob, hating what she’s done. She shouldn’t have raided those lockers. The man she stole from will report her. The hostess knows her face. When the women from the park and Dollar General report theirstolen wallets, the police will know there’s a thief among them. They’ll know it’s her.

They’ll be looking for her.

And she’s still a few bucks shy of catching a bus to Lancaster, then another to Hollywood.

She’ll have to lie low for a while unless she can convince Irving to part with a few of his greens.

He’ll want more food in return. He might make her negotiate another gram from Barton.

Mentally counting the food she has on her from this morning, wondering if she can manage sharing, she cuts across the road.

A truck screeches to a halt mere inches from her. Shiloh pulls up short, a scream lodged in her throat. Someone almost hit her. Too shocked to move, she stares dumbly at the driver, watching as his own shocked expression wears off. His eyes narrow to slits. His open mouth snaps shut into a firm line. Nostrils flare. Her heart pounds in her throat.

Shit.Market guy.

The gear shifts into park, and the brake drops. He opens his door. A boot lands on the road. He’s talking, asking her something, but she can’t hear him over the blood rushing in her ears.

No way is she sticking around.

Shiloh bolts across the pavement and sprints into a field, disappearing into a cloak of darkness.

8

Lucas glares at the waif stone immobile in his headlights. Mouth unhinged, eyes moon-size with wisps of hair framing her face like an angel’s halo, she gapes at him.

Lily.

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