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“Oh yeah, Macy.” I must’ve looked surprised by his knowledge of who I meant because he quickly said, “You know Nadine. She knows everyone, and she spotted Macy as soon as she got to town. She’s been trying to get her to come over for dinner too.”
“Of course she has,” I said under my breath. “Well, she just found out that her ex is in town, so she’s staying with me up at the cabin.”
Hank’s face was so shocked at the revelation that I almost started to laugh before I remembered why I’d gotten the reputation that I had.
“I’m guessing,” Hank said, slowly, “that this ex isn’t a good guy, is he?”
“No. No, he’s not. And I don’t want to take any chances that he might be able to find her or see the car. Do you think that you can store it in the back of the garage? I’ll pay you for the space.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, coming out to look at the car. “She’s one of the Ridgers, now. We’ve all gotta pitch in and keep her safe.”
I sighed in relief. “Well, if you won’t let me pay you for the space, then will you at least give it some service and an oil check? And write me a receipt so I can pay you the next time I come down the mountain for gas.”
He twisted his mouth in a grin and sighed. “Sure. Fine.”
“I have one last thing to ask you.” He nodded, waiting for me to go on. “Do you think that you can give me a ride to her apartment so I can scope it out and grab some stuff for her? She got stuck at the cabin without any of her things.”
He came out from behind the counter. “Let me just get Jeremiah to cover the front,” he said, referring to the kid he had as his assistant manager. “Meet me out by my car in five.”
A few minutes later, we were in the car, driving toward Huston Street in Hank’s old Jeep. When we pulled up to the building, I looked around for a few minutes for the guy with light brown hair and brown eyes. The guy who Macy had described as a taller Tom Cruise.
He was nowhere to be found, so I walked steadily into the building, buzzing myself in with the fob and going upstairs to the fourth floor. As I looked around, I felt another fissure form in my heart as I thought of what it had meant for her to go from the rich, rewarding life she’d had in LA to this filthy, run-down apartment building. I felt another wave of hate for Alex wash over me.
When I got to the door of number 413, I fit the key into the lock, pushed the door open, and sucked in my breath. I’d figured that he’d found her apartment, but I couldn’t have predicted that he would’ve done this. This was proof that we were actually dealing with a madman.
The coffee table in the living area had been flipped over, and papers had been tossed all over the room, as if someone had gone through them and tossed them helter-skelter when he hadn’t found a clue as to where she was. The couch cushions had been taken from the sofa and ripped to pieces on the floor. When I looked closer, though, I saw that they hadn’t been ripped but stabbed.
I went into the space where her bed was, feeling my skin crawl as I saw the way her pictures had been thrown onto the floor and shattered. A few pieces of her underwear had been pulled out of her drawer and tossed on the bed, making me outright nauseous. I went into the closet next to the bed and pulled out the gym bag she’d told me about before going into her dresser. I grabbed the pairs of leggings and the pajamas she’d asked for from the bottom drawer before getting a few T-shirts and socks and, finally, opening the top drawer to grab a few pairs of her underwear. I tried not to think about it as I touched the silky material, but a base part of me knew where these parts of clothing would go, and I shoved the knowledge down before I could think too much about it. I went and got the book from the side of the bed. It was a dog-eared copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.
In the closet, I got the bag of toiletries and shoved it into the bag, closing it hurriedly before locking the door after me. I rushed down to where Hank was waiting in the Jeep, feeling the sweat pouring down my face as I slammed the door after me. “Good to go.”
Hank turned away, heading back up the mountain. The two of us were quiet as we drove away, and I closed my eyes as I tried to get my breath back.
“So,” Hank said, his voice coming in softly from beside me, “how did she come to stay with you?”
Hank had been friends with my uncle and had known me as a boy. Even though I’d become a stranger to pretty much everyone in the town when I’d moved away, Hank still felt like an old and trusted friend.
I opened my eyes and turned to him. He was keeping his eyes on the road, but I could tell he was interested. “She got lost when she was hiking the other day, and she wound up on my doorstep. I could tell that she was in a bad spot, so I offered her a place to stay.”
Hank nodded. “So, you guys haven’t—”
“No.” I said the word with as much finality as I could. “No. It’s not like that.”
He looked at me for a second. “Not even a little?”
I didn’t say anything, simply looking outside the car as we continued driving up the mountain. Thankfully, Hank took the hint and didn’t ask any more about Macy, simply turning on the Johnny Cash tape he kept in the deck.
He dropped me off at the trailhead where my truck waited, and I thanked him again. He made me promise to protect Macy and to reach out if she or I needed anything else. I gave a silent nod of affirmation and headed off.
When I got to the cabin, I was shocked to see Macy standing in the front yard, throwing the ball for Bucky. I couldn’t help the frustration that roiled over me in a wave.
I took a deep breath to try and calm myself before getting out of the truck and slamming the door. “What are you doing outside?”
She looked back at me, smiling with a raised eyebrow. “Bucky was getting restless.”
“You need to be inside.”
She folded her arms over her chest, her smile disappearing and her eyes going dark. “And you need to be less of a controlling asshole.”
