Seven o’clock and still no sign of the fuzz. I wish you were here, Jesse. Being a wanted man has me feeling all kinds of sexy!
His messages make us laugh, which is welcome during the tense drive from Denver International Airport. Part of me is eager to return home. The rest remembers why I was so desperate to leave. Especially when we roll into town. Cheyenne looks smaller than I remember, perhaps because I’ve seen more of the world now. Despite any misgivings, my heart fills with yearning as we park outside my old apartment.
The plan was to check into the cheap motel we booked and rest for the night. We weren’t supposed to visit my former home until tomorrow, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m too on edge.
“Is this the place?” Trixie asks.
“Yeah.” I point through the windshield. “That one right there.”
“A light is on.”
I nod. “I’m not sure if my mom will be home. Depends which shift she’s working. I’ll probably be there since it’s a school night.”
Trixie unbuckles her seatbelt. “Wanna find out for sure?”
“Yeah. Let me try calling first,” I say. “I want to get a feel for Caleb’s state of mind before we surprise him.”
“Okay.”
I’m done being cautious. Trixie watches me as I call from Jesse’s phone. No one picks up. Iknowsomebody is there. My mom was always strict about turning off the lights. We never had money to waste.
“I bet it’s Raymond,” I say, leaning forward to peer up at the glowing apartment window.
“The creepy guy?” Trixie asks.
I nod. “He was supposed to move in with us. Mom would have answered. Unless he’s calling the shots now.”
Trixie touches the door handle. “Should I?”
“Yeah, but if she’s home, don’t tell her you’re my girlfriend. She’ll never believe it. Just say you’re my friend.” I chew my bottom lip for a second. “Actually, that might make her suspicious too. Say you’re in my physics class and leave it at that.”
Trixie nods. I watch her walk across the parking lot and sprint up the stairs. When she knocks on the door, I hold my breath, unsure what to expect.
It’s going to be okay, Jesse tells me.
“Thanks,” I reply. Then I suck in sharply as the door swings open to reveal my mother. It takes all my willpower to not leave the car. I’m worried about her, and I don’t want her to worry about me, but she won’t recognize me in this body. All I can do is stare as Trixie speaks with her. My mom is covering her stomach with one arm, the elbow of the other resting on it as she smokes between responses. I wish I could read lips. As the conversation continues, Trixie pulls out her phone to type something. Then it’s over. My mother retreats inside. Trixie turns to look directly at me. She isn’t smiling. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open before she closes it and hurries back to the car.
“What’s going on?” I ask before her butt can hit the seat.
“Caleb isn’t there,” Trixie says. “He’s at the—” She consults her phone, reading from it. “Laramie County Youth Detention Center.”
“What?! Why?”
Trixie grimaces. “Your mom didn’t want to talk about it. Reporters have been pestering her about it. That’s probably why she’s not answering the phone.”
“Reporters?”
“Yup. She was surprised I hadn’t heard what happened. She said it was on the news.”
“As in television?”
“I guess so. All she would tell me is that you beat up her ex, but she also said he deserved it.”
I lean back, my stomach sinking as I fill in the missing pieces. Raymond must have kept pushing himself on me—on Caleb—for him to react like that. I wouldn’t have let him touch me either. Just look what I did to get away from him the first time. Caleb didn’t have that luxury. He must have been backed into a corner.
“Oh,” Trixie says, attention on her phone. “Found it. This is on a local news site. The headline says… Wow. It says ‘Local teen accused of poisoning and assaulting stepfather.’ It mentions your name, and Raymond, but I can’t read past the first few lines. They want us to purchase a subscription.”
I check the time. Then I start the engine. In mere minutes, we’re parked in front of another former haunt of mine: The Laramie County Library. I still get the feeling of entering a sanctuary as we go inside, which is good. I need any sense of security I can cling to. This one won’t last long, since the library isn’t open for much longer, but we still have enough time to find the information we need. I head for the first librarian I see. She’s one of the nice ones, Mrs. Burton, who often had recommendations and was always willing to order books the library didn’t have.