That’s why I need this job.
“What am I supposed to do about my sister? I don’t like leaving her alone for so long, and Old Harbor is five hours from here.”
“I’ll check on her.”
Helluva lot of good that will do, but it’s all I got. “When do you want me to go?”
“Now. As soon as you can. Go home, pack a suitcase, tell your sister you’ll see her soon, and get going. It’s supposed to snow up there tonight, and the roads can get slick by the water.”
I stand and head for the office door. “You’re going to job hunt for me while I’m gone, right?”
“You never know. You could luck out.”
I don’t bother to lower myself to respond. My luck ran out a long time ago.
“He wants you to do what?”
I fling up my hands and try to be flippant, or I’m going to burst into tears. “That’s what I said!” I sink onto my bed, my small suitcase sliding and bumping into my hip.
Talia sits next to me, her expression a mixture of fear and curiosity.
I hate it when she’s scared, but the reality is, I’m not getting the interview. I’ll drive up to Old Harbor, a medium-sized city that sits on Harbor Lake, ask him to talk to me, and get told off for my trouble. I’ll end up spending the night in some crap little motel and driving back the next morning with less than what I went up there with.
“What are we going to do, Devyn?”
Squeezing her hand, I say, “I’ll do my best, but we’re going to have to move. There’s nothing for us here. The Pioneer barely pays me enough to keep us going anyway. Maybe I can find something better in Illinois, or Ohio. Someplace where they haven’t heard of me. Otherwise, I’m going to have to do something else. The most important thing is paying the bills and getting you through school. Your credits will transfer.” I hope.
“I really messed up,” she whispers, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“No more than I have. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Walt said he’d stop by and check that you’re doing okay. Do your homework. Keep the house clean. Go to your support meetings. One day I won’t be around. You have to keep it together.”
She nods. She tries harder than anyone I have ever met, and as the months have passed, things have settled into a quiet normalcy we’ve both enjoyed.
In somber silence, I finish packing and add a few changes of clothes. Sweaters, jeans, thick leggings, pajamas. I’ll wear my parka, hat, mittens, and winter boots. Rickard Mercer will kick me off his property in two seconds flat, but at least I’ll be warm as he does.
Talia kisses me goodbye, and fiercely, I hug her. I’m thirteen years older than she is, and in more ways than one, I feel like her mother. Our mother’s lying in an alley somewhere high off her ass, turning tricks to pay for the privilege. It’s not too far from where I found Talia when we both lived in Cedar Hill. Getting out of that godforsaken city was a miracle, and I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
With her promises and reassurances ringing in my ears, I drive to the closest gas station and fill up my car. I have five hours on the road ahead of me, and I buy a few bags of chips and fill up the largest cup of coffee they sell. I let the sugar and caffeine soothe me. It’ll be pitch black in a couple of hours, and I’ll need to stay alert. We’ve already had a few inches of snow and the road, as I get closer to Old Harbor, will be full of twists and turns.
The silence on the drive is welcome, and itisa pretty scenic route. I don’t have time to joyride, but I appreciate the pine trees covered in snow and glimpses of the smaller lakes, ice crusted on their surfaces.
Talia and I have lived in Minnesota all our lives, and the thought of leaving the state is both scary and exhilarating. We could do with something new. There’s nothing to stay for. I’ll never expose Stevie Johansson for the slimeball she is. There’s a reason she’s never been charged. She can cover her tracks too well, and I was arrogant enough to believe I would be the one to uncover them. It cost me my job, my reputation, and it put Talia in harm’s way.
Now I’m on this fool’s mission.
Rickard Mercer.
Christ.
The second I step foot onto his property he’ll call the cops or kick me off his land himself. All six-three, two-hundred and ten pounds of him.
I stop once at a rundown gas station between Portland and Old Harbor to use the bathroom and throw my trash. Walt wasn’t wrong, and big snow puffs drift from the sky. It’s blacker than pitch by the time the sign for Old Harbor welcomes me to the city limits, population 85,168, but it’s easy to see where I need to go.
The lighthouse’s beam shines over Harbor Lake, keeping little fishing boats, barges, and everything in between from drifting too close to the rocky shore.
Stiff and tired, I drive around the outskirts of the city and up the narrow two-lane highway where the lighthouse looks over the lake.
He’s going to throw me off the cliff, and I’ll deserve it for being so stupid.