Page 105 of Destiny

“Who’s going to pay the attorney?” Porter asks.

“We’re all going to chip in,” Dad says. “However much you can. Brendan and I can each throw in a thousand bucks. What can you throw in?”

“I’m good for a couple of pennies.”

“For Christ’s sake, Port,” someone says from the peanut gallery. “Put me down for five hundred, Sean.”

“Perfect, perfect.”

“I just don’t have anything,” Mrs. Mayer says.

“Carmelita, that’s okay.”

She pulls a five-dollar bill out of her purse. “This is what I’ve got left from this month’s groceries. You can have that.”

Dad holds up a hand. “No, you keep that. We’ve got you covered.”

“If she ain’t paying—”

“Shut up, Port.”

“If you guys all trust me,” Dad says, “make your checks out to me. Or put in cash. We’ve got a basket up front here. Put your donation in there. Keep track of what you paid, because whatever we don’t use will be returned based on what you put in.”

More murmurs of agreement, and people come forward and throw cash and checks into the basket.

“Who’s going to find this attorney?” someone asks.

“Brendan and I will take care of that. Now have some more coffee and enjoy Rita’s pastries.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ava

Driving to the city by myself wasn’t in my plans, but it’s where I need to go. My grandmother gave me the address of a bar and a storage facility on the outskirts of Grand Junction. She trusts me to go there to finish whatever she has set in motion.

But of course I have an ulterior motive.

I’m going to save my family.

I drive to the dive bar that’s open at ten in the morning and walk in.

“I’m supposed to ask for Mike,” I say to the bartender, an older man with graying hair and striking dark-brown eyes.

He meets my gaze, a rag in his hand. “Yeah? Who sent you?”

“Sabrina Smith.”

No facial reaction as he turns. “Good enough.”

“Are you Mike?”

He looks over his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

He heads to the back for a moment and then returns with a manila envelope. “Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you.”

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