If he’d told me, I’ll keep you safe forever, in that moment, I’d have believed every word.
“Did you see anyone else inside the vehicle?” he asks. His thumb sweeps gently along mine, a silent apology for having to interrogate me.
“No, but it was really dark.” I take a sip of ice water. “I saw the driver again today, at the motel.”
His brow crimps. “What motel’s that?”
“The Budget Stays Motel on Magnolia Ave, where Kenzie and I live. I work there.” I glance down at the table so I don’t have to see the pity in his gaze. “I saw him talking to my manager. He had a gun on him.”
“Did he see you?”
I shake my head. “I ran up to see if Kenzie was in the room, but she wasn’t. The place had been ripped apart.”
Our server returns with coffees. I add cream and too much sugar to mine, while Cal drinks his coffee black. He asks me to walk him through the whole night and morning, from the time Kenzie and I got picked up to the time I arrived at the police station. I tell him everything I can remember, and a few things I wish I could forget.
The server brings my breakfast and refills Cal’s coffee. As soon as the scent of bacon and syrup hits my nose, I dig in, ravenous from having not eaten a full meal in almost twenty-four hours.
When I finally come up for breath, Cal’s still watching me.
“Sorry,” I mumble, embarrassed.
“Don’t be sorry, Holly.” His mouth tilts into a smile. “You’re doing great. Now, what did the driver who took Kenzie look like?”
“He was bald, at least six feet tall, really thin. He wore dark clothing and a black leather jacket. This morning he had two black eyes, like he’d been in a fight. I didn’t get close enough to see his eye color. I just remember his eyes looked...mean. Like, chill inducing, you know?”
He nods like he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Did you get a look at the guy’s license plate?”
“Not a clear look.” I’m suddenly furious with myself for not even thinking to memorize the guy’s license plate. “I’m pretty sure it had Tennessee colors.”
“That’s a good start,” he says, though I’m convinced he’s only saying it to be nice. “The woman who invited McKenzie to the party. Steph?” he asks. I nod. “How’d the two of them hook up?”
“McKenzie is—or, was—a waitress at a bar downtown. She got fired. Steph came in for a drink, saw it happen, and I guess they started talking.”
“Does Steph have a last name?” Cal downs a good portion of his coffee. I scan the remains of the huge spread in front of me.
“Not one I know of,” I say. “Do you want some of my toast?”
“No, thanks.” He winks at me, like he appreciates me looking out for him. “How sure are you that this guy wasn’t looking for you?”
“I’m not. He asked where someone was. My boss told him she didn’t know. She could’ve been protecting me, or he could’ve been asking about Kenzie.” I eat a bite of my pancakes and wash it down with a sip of coffee. “If he is looking for Kenzie, that means she got away, and I need to find her before he does.”
Cal scrubs at his face. There’s a strange glint in his eye, like I’ve just surprised him.
“What?” I ask, after a long pause.
He shrugs. “Nothing. Just wondering what you’ve done with the shy, skittish girl I met last night.”
The memory of being cradled in his arms floats to the top of my mind. My cheeks smolder.
“She’s still in here, trust me.”
“I know she is, and I look forward to seeing her again. But I’m liking this side of you, too.”
“What side is that?”
“The smart, determined side that refuses to let her anxieties get in the way of helping a friend.”
If my cheeks were embers before, they’re twin flares now. Most of the time, people—especially potential employers—write me off for not having a high school diploma. They assume I’m stupid. Never mind that I was reading at a college level when I was only twelve years old.
“You know McKenzie better than anyone,” Cal says. “Where would she go if she got into trouble?”
“She’d come back to me.”
Cal nods thoughtfully. “How long have you two known each other?”
“About four years,” I say. “We lived in the same foster home.”
“Does McKenzie have any family nearby? I mean, besides you.”
A smile teases my lips. He gets it, I realize. Kenzie isn’t just my friend. She’s my sister. As much a part of me as my heart or my liver. I won’t be whole again until I find her.
“Neither of us have seen our parents since we were little,” I tell him.
“What about your foster parents?”
I shudder. “We ran away from that house when we were fifteen. She’d never go back.”