Page 52 of 2nd Strike
This poor kid. She’s ripping him from his home, friends, school. I peer out and think about my childhood, thankful for the normalcy that came with it. My bed, the river. Even our nutty mother trying to prove our oddball neighbor was up to something illegal. All of it floods back to me, reminding me I lived an ideal life.
Anita points to the passenger side of her beat-up sedan, but Jon is having none of it. He steps back, folding his arms across his chest. A dug in teenager. Anita might be screwed.
If they get into that car, we might be, too.
I reach for the door handle, yanking on it.
Charlie latches onto my arm. “What are youdoing?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t sit here. This woman might have answers.”
“I’m going, too.”
Ethan again. This time, I’m the one dug in. I whip around, poking my finger at him. “No! Don’t move. Do you hear me?”
Charlie hits a button on her door. “He’s not going anywhere.” She grins. “Child locks.”
Behind her, JJ snorts. “You two are a pisser.”
“Well, this pisser is going out there. I’m gonna stall her. We can’t let them leave until we get that DNA test back.”
Charlie sets the recording contraption in her lap. “I’ll call Taylor. See if they can help.”
I hustle from the car, thankful for Anita’s distraction with Jon as they face-off on the neglected lawn.
Eventually, she’ll notice me. No matter how preoccupied she may be, she’ll spot me in her peripheral vision.
Like…now.
She angles toward me, gives me the hard stare of suspicion and slides in front of Jon. Whatever she’s done, I’ll give her credit for protective instincts.
“May I help you?”
I probably should’ve thought this out before approaching because I’m at a loss as to what to say. And somehow, I don’t think accusing her of kidnapping will get us off on the right foot.
Pretending to be a bible salesman is out so I go to plan H. “Susie Norris?”
Her hard stare slowly disintegrates and her eyes drift wide. Slowly, her mouth parts. She rocks back then immediately straightens and my head nearly explodes from the blood rush.
Apparently, no one has called her that in a long time.
I keep walking, heading straight for her now with less than twenty feet to go. “Do you remember me? How the heck are you?”
Behind her, Jon peers over her shoulder. Hopefully, he’ll keep his mouth shut and let me do my thing.
“Sorry,” she says. “There’s no one here by that name.”
She angles back to Jon. “Get in the car. We’re going.”
I close the distance between us and stop just far enough from her to ward off any kind of attack she might initiate. “Susie, I need to talk to you.”
“Look, I just told you. I’m not Susie.” She turns and opens the passenger side door. “Get in, Jon. I mean it.”
When she blasts him with a look, the kid relents and slides in.
No. Please no.
Another burst slams inside my head sending simultaneous bolts through my limbs.
