Charlie and Rake came back around the side of the big shed then. “We’re going into town to get a few things,” said Charlie.
“Me and you?” Abby asked.
“No. Us two,” he said, jerking his head toward his cousin. “You and Meggie keep each other company. We’ll be back soon. No more than forty-five minutes.”
“You getting me cigarettes?” Meggie asked Rake.
“Yeah. A pack,” Rake said to Meggie.
“Get me two pac
ks. Not just one. Please?”
“We’ll get you two,” said Charlie.
“Thank you Chuckles.” Meggie stuck her tongue out at Rake. “See? He’s nice.”
“Can we talk for a second?” Abby asked Charlie.
“I’ll be back soon. Do you need anything?” he asked.
“No, but can’t we talk for a second before you go?”
“We can talk later.”
The four of them walked to the front of the shed. A truck far junkier than Charlie’s was in front of the shed door. Rake got in it and moved it out of the way, and put his keys in his pocket. Then Charlie backed out of the shed, Rake jumped in the passenger side, and they turned the truck around. A moment later they were disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Chapter 42
“They’ll be gone for hours. Even if they hurried they couldn’t get to town and back in forty-five minutes.” Meggie said. “Plus, I told Rake not to, but they’ll probably go the Pumphouse.”
“Is that a bar?”
“It’s a bar, but with strippers.”
“Fabulous,” said Abby.
“We might as well get comfortable ‘cause we’re stuck here. Rake always does shit like this. I wouldn’t mind so much if I had some cigarettes.”
“There’s not even any place to sit,” said Abby.
“We could sit in Rake’s truck,” Meggie said. She walked over to it and tried to get in. “Never mind. He locked it.”
“Do you want a bottle of water?” Abby asked her. “I’m going to get one for myself and I’ll grab you one. We have some inside the shed.”
“Sure. But you know when we’ve got to go, there’s no bathroom here. You know we’ve got to pee in the weeds, right?” She squinted at Abby, blocking the sun and smiling. “You’re not afraid of a big ol’ gator taking a bite out of your butt?”
“I am actually, but I’m really thirsty so I guess I’ll have to take my chances.”
“Yeah, I’ll take a bottle.” Meggie opened the tailgate of the truck and made herself at home there while Abby went back into the shed. She went into the bunk room, some intuition telling her to check on her iPod. Charlie’s sweatshirt was no longer neatly folded like she’d left it. Now it was lying on the floor. Her iPod, which had been hiding beneath it, was gone. She picked the sweatshirt up and shook it out, then tossed it on the sleeping bag. The heat in this room, the dead flies on the windowsill, the lingering smell of the bad sex she hadn’t wanted; it all added to her growing fury.
She went to the cooler and took two bottles of water from it. She had no idea what time it was. Three o’clock? Four? Was Randall looking for her yet? Had he tracked her phone to the orange grove where she’d dropped it? She’d considered breaking it, but was afraid that it might ruin the tracking device, might send him down a wrong, truer path.
If he thought she’d been kidnapped, everything would take on a life of its own that was very fresh and new. It would be about Abby and the orange grove and similar crimes in their area. Police would get involved right away and everyone would want to act quickly. It would be a stampede of purposefulness.
But if he thought she’d run away, he might not involve anyone else. At least not at first. That course of investigation would be dark and methodical, angry and plotting. It would be the meticulous unraveling of all her hard work. He’d peel back the layers about her, and their home, and her habits and secrets.
It was very, very important that he decide right away that she’d been kidnapped.