chapter Eight
When Liberty arrived at the kennel, Becky filled her in.
“Lindy’s at the house with Mitch. I told her I had a few errands and she said she’d be happy to sit with him until I get back. She didn’t even ask why,” Becky winked, “thank goodness for that.” She motioned Liberty toward her desk.
Liberty walked toward her, took a deep breath and exhaled, “I feel really nervous,” she held a hand against her chest, “and my heart’s beating like a hummingbird’s wings.”
“Hey, you’re allowed to be nervous. It’s your first ride, right?”
Liberty nodded. “I don’t know any of us that have done it before.”
Becky snapped her fingers, “Easy peasy. You’ll be fine. And before I forget,” she rummaged through her sequin-covered purse, pulled out the photo of Sage and laid it on the desk, “I asked some people at The River and the Post Office, but no one has seen her. Or anyone that looks like her.”
“No one?”
“Well, nobody I talked to,” Becky put a big smile on her face, “but it doesn’t mean she isn’t out there. Right?”
“I hope so,” Liberty corrected herself, “I think she is.”
“Good. Then we’ll keep with our plan. Remember everything?”
They went over the itinerary a few times the day before. “I’m pretty sure.”
“All right,” Becky pulled Liberty through the door behind her desk and into the stairwell, “wait here and I’ll start unloading the boxes.”
Becky had backed her truck up to kennel’s side door, and was going to pretend to unload supplies. All the boxes were empty. She figured it would give Liberty good cover and less walking to the truck.
After Becky carried the last parcel into the storage room of the kennel, she looked down the stairwell and motioned Liberty the all clear.
“Hey, hold on.” Becky held up a hand and spun in a circle, showing off her all black hoodie and pants ensemble. “Does this look okay?”
Liberty rolled her eyes, “You look fine.”
“You sure? The pants don’t make me look fat?”
“Seriously, you look good.”
The impatience on Liberty’s face and in her voice must have come through because Becky said, “Sorry. I’ve just never been on a stake-out before. All I know is you’re supposed to wear black. Oh, and you gotta bring binoculars. Which I did. They’re in the truck.” She beamed, obviously proud of herself for the preparations she’d made.
“Good, good.” Liberty shooed her. “Now go, would you?”
It wasn’t like Becky hadn’t see her in Sasquatch form before, but it was the first time close-up and Liberty felt utterly naked and incredibly ugly. The whole reason she wanted Becky to keep her back turned.
“Okay, all clear,” Becky said in a muffled voice from above.
Liberty transformed on the fourth step from the top and hurried toward the back of the vehicle. She bent over and scooted inside. The truck bed bounced, made a squeak, and Becky giggled. Liberty shifted her very large behind back as far as she could, and then tapped the side of the bed.
Becky came out, closed the kennel door behind her. Lifting up the tailgate, she looked in and winked like there wasn’t a monster in her bed. Liberty gave her the dirtiest look she could muster—a cross between a pucker and a snarl—as Becky slammed it shut.
Liberty had tried to prepare herself for her first ride, remembered what she’d been told to expect. She waited. The engine turned over. That wasn’t so bad. The exhaust drifted in the cap a bit. Unpleasant, but not awful. Then the truck started to move. Liberty tensed, her heart rate spiked. She tapped urgently on the window.
Becky stopped, turned around, and looked at Liberty through the glass, eyebrows raised. “Is there a problem?” Liberty nodded weakly.
Becky sighed, unlocked the window, and slid it open. “We’ve gone like two feet.”
Liberty nodded again.
“There’s no reason to be afraid. We’ve been over this, right? Here.” She reached down and came up with the phone in her hand. “Remember how to use it?”
Liberty took the phone, resisted the urge to answer for fear of scaring the daylights out of Becky, and nodded.
“This, too,” Becky said, handing Liberty the stylus.
Liberty took it, but it felt as tiny as a pine needle, nothing like a pen. With difficulty, Liberty typed on the phone before handing it to Becky.
Becky took it and after she read it, cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Liberty didn’t answer.
Becky gave her a sideways glance. “No. You don’t look fat. Now try to relax,” she said, then put the truck back in gear and pulled away again, this time more slowly.
Liberty released a shaky breath, watched out through the front window. Doing so didn’t make her half as dizzy.
They pulled out of Mitch’s driveway and hung a right on the blacktop. She focused on the road and ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her she was heading to a place of no return. If anyone at Proem discovered her little adventure, and if it went wrong, she may as well keep on going.
She’d given the directions to Becky the day before and she didn’t even have to write them down. Becky said it was quicker her way, and she was right. A little trip that took her nearly four hours to navigate, took Becky twenty minutes.
They pulled off the edge of the road. Becky shut off the engine and turned around in her seat. “Okay, we’re here. I’ll wait for a minute, then put on my flashers. Those are the blinker lights that indicate to other vehicles I’m here so they don’t hit me.” She pointed over her shoulder, out her window. “If I followed your directions right, that’s where you need to go. Are we good?”
Liberty nodded, handed her the phone. As she did, their hands touched and Becky didn’t flinch. When Liberty pulled her hand away, Becky said, “Wait a minute. Give me your hand.”
Perplexed, Liberty put it back through, and Becky latched on. Her aura, royal blue tonight, mingled with Becky’s pearly white one. Becky pet the top of Liberty’s hand where the fur was thicker, then flipped it over to the smooth skin of the palm and caressed it. Liberty almost felt human, started to choke up. Liberty pulled her hand away gently and Becky looked up and smiled.
“Thanks for letting me touch you, Liberty.”
Becky jumped out of the cab, walked to the rear of the truck and opened the hatch, “One more thing.” She peered in at Liberty. “If you hear me honk the horn, don’t come back out.”
Liberty waited until Becky got back into the truck before leaning toward the open end. She sniffed the air. No humans nearby, other than her chauffeur. The scent of tar, hay, and, she suspected, some kind of street meat down the road—country air at its finest. She lifted her nose, yep, a woodchuck picked half-clean by crows was her guess. And she was rarely wrong about her street meat.
She slid out of the bed, the truck lifting a couple of inches and squeaking again. Good grief, how much did she weigh?
Liberty peeked up and down the road, dashed across, jumped the ditch, and ran into the woods. A minor adjustment to the north, and she was on the right path. Becky had almost judged it perfectly.
As she became familiar with the woods, her heart started to race. The excitement of her first ride had masked the real reason she was there. How could she have forgotten her purpose? Adrian.
Liberty took off at full speed, leapt over fallen trees and ducked under heavy boughs. She searched overhead for the pitch, knew she should see it any minute. A crash made her jump. Then another crash off to the right. She stopped dead. Had she let her defenses drop? She settled down trying to detect danger. She panned the woods for auras, human or otherwise, and found there were none.
In the darkness a loud pop sounded to the right of her. She crouched on instinct. The tall weeds parted and a herd of deer broke through the brush directly in front of her. A young buck with a touch of velvet on his antlers, as surprised to see her as she was him, bounded over the top of her, a hoof just missing her head. A stampede.
Little whitetails flapped, and she watched the herd as it made its way toward the road where the truck was parked. She wondered if it would startle Becky much as it had her. As long as she didn’t mistakenly beep, they’d be okay.