“Just go,” I growled. “Get to her.”
All I could think about was the police surrounding the cabin and Kennedy unaware of a single thing going on.
The bailiff unlocked my ankles so I could walk. “Come on.” He tugged on my elbow. I shuffled to the door.
“Make sure she is safe with Kimble,” I called as he pulled me out of the room. I didn’t care if I rotted in this place as long as he made sure she wasn’t hurt.
17
Kennedy
I kept hiking in the wrong direction. I was frustrated and hot. My shoes began to sink in moist soil. It smelled pungent with Earth. In another step, I’d sink into boggy holes of water. I knew the stables had to be in the opposite direction. Knight knew the woods well. He navigated the paths, the twists and turns. He recognized the trees and the subtle landmarks as the ground rose and dipped on the overgrown path. It was a side of him I’d never seen before. Now, I wished I had paid more attention when he brought me to the cabin last night. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing registered.
I kept my phone stretched forward in my palm, waiting for the signal bars to pop up. I pushed my hair out of my face. I didn’t even know which way was east.
I would keep trudging through this damn forest. Take every wrong turn. Wade through the bayou with the snakes and alligators, if I had to. I would keep stomping through the muck if it meant I could find him. I gripped on to that thought and took another step, ducking beneath a curtain of silver moss.
It was like seeing a mirage in the desert. I spotted the roof of the first barn. Beyond it I could see the weathervane for the stables. I exhaled. I had made it out.
The accomplishment of finding my way out of the woods was overrun by what happened with the next step forward on the farm. I crossed the invisible barrier into cell service. My phone lit up like a switchboard.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. I couldn’t read the texts or the headlines that scrolled across fast enough. I couldn’t open any of them until they were all downloaded on my phone. My hand went straight to the side of my head.
I might have been hidden away for the night, but the rest of New Orleans had been wide awake. The city never slept.
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I immediately called Knight when the last message popped up. I was sent to his voicemail. Damn it. I tried again, even a third time. All my calls went straight to voicemail.
Next, I called Kimble as I walked with careful steps to the equipment barn. I hadn’t seen anyone yet, but I knew to keep close to the tree line and take my time to figure out what in the hell was going on.
“Hello.”
“Thank, God you answered. What’s going on? What’s happening?” I launched questions at him.
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll pick you up.”
“Why isn’t Knight here? When did you see him last?” My head spun faster than I could ask questions.
“Jail,” he answered.
My mouth dropped and I had to brace myself against the side of the barn. “Did you say jail?” I realized my shoulder was throbbing from the messenger bag. I lowered it in the tall grass.
“Cops picked him up a few hours ago in front of the Martin Compound.”
“I don’t understand. For what?” It didn’t make sense.
“Crew’s parents are looking for him. Right now, Knight Corban is the only suspect.”
My mouth went dry and I stared into the woods. This wasn’t possible.
“On what grounds? That’s absurd.”
Kimble didn’t answer me.
“Get him out,” I snarled into the phone. “Now.”
“Where are you?” he repeated.