It was definitely idiocy.
In the choking thick silence came Michael’s wary voice. “I’m guessing calling the police is out of the question.” I didn’t blame his caution. My mood was less than pleasant.
“Pretty much,” I said shortly, eyes still riveted on the dissipating dust.
“And her name probably wasn’t really Fisher Redwine.”
“No.” I felt the muscle in my jaw spasm and that was when the calm broke. “Goddamnit, goddamnit, goddamnit.” I kicked the dirt, sending a spray of earth flying. It didn’t make me feel any better, so I tried again—and again. Then with temper spent for the moment, I turned to Michael and gave a rueful sigh. “This, by the way, is why we don’t pick up hitchhikers.”
“Yes, I see your point,” he offered gravely. Scrubbing a hand across my face, I said wryly, “And you thought I had trust issues before. Just wait.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick, hard squeeze, trying to reassure him things weren’t as bad as they really were. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“Two of a kind.” He allowed the embrace for a second, forgetting momentarily that he was an island unto himself, then subtly shifted to pull away. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
“We’ve been in trouble for a while, kid,” I countered lightly. “What’s one more drop in the bucket?”
“Stefan.” His gaze was uncompromising. “Don’t.”
He was right. Not only was trying to protect him from this pointless and dangerous; it was also insulting to his intelligence. He knew as well as I did that this wasn’t a drop; it was a fucking waterfall. “Yeah, trouble is a good word for it. They took every penny, and we’re not getting very far without money.” The door to the restaurant opened and five people came spilling out, their voices magpie loud. It was getting a little crowded out here, and I started toward the car. “Shoplifting and boosting a car is one thing,” I continued quietly. “Knocking over a gas station or a bank is a different matter altogether. That’ll get us shot or in custody in no time. We can’t risk it.”
“What will we do then?”
“Give me a while. I’ll think of something.” It wasn’t as if I had much choice. Our backs were to the wall. If I didn’t come up with a plan and quickly, Jericho wouldn’t have to put any effort into finding us. We would fall right into his psychotic lap. “Have faith.” I didn’t put any thought into the words; it was automatic—just something you say. It made Michael’s response, murmured under his breath, that much more gratifying.
“I do.”
Chapter 23
When you’re a kid, there are miraculous things in the world. Even a tiny bit of ice fluff can seem more like magic than a part of nature. Growing up mostly in southern Florida, I hadn’t seen a lot of snow, but there had been the occasional vacation to Colorado or New York. The memory of the first flake cradled in my hand was as distinct as the edges of the ice crystal had been soft. You knew then that every snowflake was different, every one a uniquely carved diamond.
You forget that. I’m not sure when, but somewhere, sometime the knowledge fades away. It’s bad enough losing sight of the singular nature of snow, but that’s not the worst of it. You even forget the myriad lacy patterns exist. You forget that anything lies in the white drifting from the sky. It was only crumbs from God’s table; misshapen wet pearls before an invisible swine; just snow. And because you’ve forgotten, you never look anymore. Michael still looked.
South Carolina had been hit with an unlikely snowstorm. It seemed to be happening more frequently these days. Excessively bad winters, global warming messing with weather patterns; who knew? It didn’t matter. The result was a seventeen-year-old’s nose pressed nearly to the palm of his hand as he studied a melting snowflake.
“They really are all different.”
I leaned over his shoulder and took a look for myself. It was nearly gone, a victim of body heat. Only the barest tracings remained, a transparent filigree that disappeared as I watched. “So they are.” I hefted the snowball I held behind my back and then dumped it down the back of his shirt. “Here’s some more to study.”