Page 73 of Stay Baby Stay

“Cal,” I say forcefully. “Really?”

“It’s okay,” Kenzie says. “Yeah, I think he used one.”

“And have you bathed at all since the incident?” Cal asks.

“I’ve washed my hands at a few different sinks, but otherwise, no.”

“I advised her not to shower just yet,” Mary says, her kind smile fraying around the edges as she struggles not to cry.

“Good,” Cal says. “McKenzie, I’m sure you’re eager to wash off the last few days, but right now, your body’s a crime scene. It’s important that whatever trace evidence your attacker or the environment left behind be well preserved until it can be gathered.”

“When will that happen?” I ask.

“As soon as we’re done here. I just need to make a quick phone call.” He looks to me. “Holly, I’m gonna need you to pack her a change of clothes. We’ll be collecting everything she’s got on.”

I pat Kenzie’s hand, then rise from the couch. “I’m going to go get you some fresh clothes. Do you need anything else?”

She shakes her head.

I run upstairs to the guest room and start rifling through my luggage for something that’ll fit Kenzie comfortably.

Teagan knocks on the open door. “Anything I can do?”

“Not this time,” I say, smiling warmly. Teagan’s been such a huge help already, fixing tea and soup, fetching blankets, doing everything she can to make Kenzie comfortable. “I do want to thank you for everything you’ve done to help Kenzie, and for supporting me through it all.”

She shrugs. “I’m just glad we could bring her home safe.”

Home. The word surrounds me like a hot bath. No matter what happens next, I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to secure a safe, long-term living situation for us. Whether that’s with Cal or some other arrangement. Kenzie will never again have to sleep on a dirty floor, or drive off into the night with a psychopath. Cal has promised to take care of me, and I made a promise a long time ago to take care of us. I intend to keep that promise.

“Me, too.” I grab some cotton shorts, a tee shirt, and underwear. As I rifle through my bag, I realize I didn’t pack any extra footwear. “Actually, could I borrow a pair of sandals for Kenzie?”

“Sure thing,” Teagan says. She disappears for a minute, then returns with a pair of black flip-flops hooked over her fingers, and a stuffed bear under her arm. “Hopefully these will fit her. And I brought someone you can snuggle if you get scared. His name’s Barnie.”

I take the sandals and the adorable stuffed bear. “Thank you, Teagan. I know I’ve said it a hundred times today, but I really mean it.”

She pulls me into a hug. I touch my cheek to her shoulder, grateful for everything she and her family have done for us.

“I hope you’re planning on sticking around after things calm down,” she says. “Because I’d like us all to be friends when this is over.”

My lips curve into a smile. For years, I assumed I’d always be too socially anxious to make new friends. I know it put pressure on Kenzie to be my only source of support, not that she ever complained. But getting close to Cal and spending time with Teagan has taught me that I’m capable of making other connections—even when it frightens me.

“I’d like that, too,” I say to Teagan. “I’ll bring Barnie back as soon as they let Kenzie leave.”

She shakes her head. “You keep him. He could use a new friend, too.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Caleb

I leave McKenzie in Mary’s capable hands and step out to the back porch to make a call. It’s a little after one in the morning. All of suburbia is fast asleep. I take a seat at the outdoor dining table I’ve eaten hot dogs at countless times, and stare out into the moonless night.

A cop is only as good as his instincts. Now it seems as though mine aren’t as sharp as I thought they were. Reverend Clyde Davis isn’t the killer. I thought I’d read him carefully the day I looked into his eyes and saw true evil. All this time, I guess I must’ve been reading him wrong.

That’s not to say Clyde Davis isn’t a motherfucker. Abby and I spent a lot of time looking into the reverend’s past and current employees. Whoever this Hoyt person is, he’s being kept off the books for a reason.

The reverend might not be the one killing these girls, but he’s shielding the man who is.

I get out my phone and call Abby. The first words out of my mouth after she answers are, “McKenzie’s alive.”

---