Resolution: Evan Warner Book 1 (17 page)

“Good move on her part.”

“She learned her lesson. She’ll be more careful who she gets involved with. At least she had enough sense to call for help before things got out of control.”

I nodded. “So you went there and tracked her down all on your own?”

“She gave me the best directions she could. Said it was just like going to the fair. But after passing the little store, I had to turn off the main road to a dirt road. Once I was on the dirt, I just kept driving until I found a bunch of cars lining the road. The phone service was bad, so we had to text back and forth. I got out with my pepper spray in my hand and found her. She was hiding behind a tree to avoid the guy and we got back to the car in just a few minutes.”

“And Simon was gone.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it. We didn’t have a flashlight or anything. And there were strange guys all around. A few girls, but not many. It was a weird party. We drove up and down the road calling for him. We could hear a group of guys out in the field actually laughing and mocking us.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I had lousy service. And I didn’t dare. Didn’t know how to explain where I was. Are they going to hunt for a lost dog?”

“They might take a look at the guys there. I’m sure nothing legit was going on.”

“My friend,” she said. “She’s underage. Nineteen. The cops would have smelled the alcohol on her from a mile away.”

I was nodding as she finished. None of my bullshit radars were going off. She wasn’t twitchy or nervous and averting her eyes as she spoke. She wasn’t fake crying or being overly dramatic. Just regretful. Slightly ashamed. Honest. And it was a simple fact that people from Franklin and Trenton always passed through my town to get to the state fairgrounds. She might not remember the exact roads, but she’d remember it as the basic route to the fair. Even Frank recognized the road leading to the vet’s office. I felt fairly confident that Kendra wasn’t trying to deceive me. About as confident as I could feel with someone I’d just met. She was just running on stress and grief.

I asked, “Do you remember any of the vehicles from that night?”

“Don’t know,” she sighed. “Lots of trucks, I guess. Big SUVs and pickup trucks mostly.”

“Like an Escalade?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I saw a couple of those. But remember, I was looking for my friend. Then my dog. I can’t be positive.”

“Okay,” I said.

“You believe me?”

“I do.”

“I trust you,” she said. “I don’t know why. But I do.”

I said, “Maybe because you’re a better judge of character than you give yourself credit for. If I was full of it, you’d probably sense it. We’ve all got instincts. We just don’t pay attention all the time.”

“The dog factor helps a lot.”

I nodded. “Dog folks gotta stick together.”

“Okay,” she said. “So we’re on the same page and we can trust each other. That’s great. But there’s more to it on my end.”

The waiter came over, halting our exchange. He topped off Kendra’s coffee and poured me a mug. Took our orders and the menus and left us. Left the beard club flyer on the table.

“How old are you?” I asked.

She smiled thinly and said, “You’re not supposed to ask.”

“Your friend is nineteen. I need to ask.”

“She’s a dancer. And I’m twenty-seven. If you look a little surprised, I’ll thank you for the compliment.”

I nodded. “Go ahead and thank me.”

“Thank you, sir. The dance studio has all ages. Kids to fifty year-olds. We’re mostly all friends.”

“All right,” I said.

“Do you think Neil would hire me if I was nineteen?”

“Don’t know.”

“I know it’s weird to still live with my dad. But like I told you, he’s not doing well.”

“I get it,” I said. “I was guessing twenty-one, and that you’ve been lying to Neil for a while about your age because the money is good. Just a guess. I’m very capable of being wrong and willing to admit it when I am.”

She reached into her purse and produced a billfold with her license behind a little clear sleeve.

“See?”

“I do.”

“The date of birth, not the bad picture.”

“I see it.”

“Well then, are we good now?”

“Yes. I was wrong.”

She shifted in her seat. Replaced the billfold in her purse and took a sip of coffee. It was a good time for me to have a sip of mine. It was decent coffee. Not Dunkins, but pretty decent. It might have been Green Mountain Breakfast Blend.

“You seem older,” Kendra said.

“Okay.”

“I mean, you don’t act like a frat boy. Or a beer-chugging country boy.”

“I’m not.”

“You
seem
older, but you’re really not. I think you’re twenty-five at most under that scruff.”

“Close.”

“Twenty-four?”

“What else is on your mind?”

“Aw, twenty-three?” she said. “Is that all? Really?”

I took another sip of coffee.

“Twenty-one?”

I said, “You’re funny.”

Her smile went away and she said, “Okay, doesn’t matter. I need to run something by you. Something serious.”

“Shoot.”

“You want to keep a low profile, and I can see why. But after we eat, I was hoping you’d be willing to talk to my dad for a few minutes.”

I shrugged. “Why not? You won’t be at ease until he’s at ease. Right?”

“Pretty much. And it’s not like he’s going to rat on you or anything.”

“Not if he wants to get Simon back.”

“Okay,” she exhaled. “I feel a little better now. That was my big question for the morning.”

I said, “If you’re twenty-seven, why do you need your dad’s approval?”

“I don’t need it. I want him to understand what we’re doing. We don’t often disagree. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

“You’re his only child?”

She nodded.

“Makes sense. That’s a good incentive for him to be overprotective. Why would he want you chasing down dirt bags with some random guy he’s never met? I’d question him more if he was passive about it.”

“I totally get that. Problem is, he doesn’t seem to realize that there isn’t another option at this point. I need help. Now I’m just hoping you can convince him that we’re doing the right thing.”

“If I can, great. But it doesn’t change much for me. Either way I’m going after Simon tonight.”

She looked down at her coffee. I waited for it.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“You gave me the scoop on the Bensons. Pointed me in the right direction. That’s help.”

“Simon’s
my
dog. And I’m the one who forgot to lock the car that night. It was late and I was tired and I was too worried about Chrissy to think straight.”

I said nothing. I already had Willie chomping at the bit to help me. Now Kendra’s father was filled in on the situation. It was getting crowded. Loose lips sink ships, even when nothing malicious is intended.

On the other hand, Kendra had proven that she had the resolve to help a friend by following vague directions. But that still didn’t mean that she’d be any good at sneaking through the woods at night to swipe a dog from a rural house. I didn’t know if Brady kept his dogs in the house or in an outdoor pen. Their place was barely visible from the road. There were huge fields and clumps of trees and a long driveway and lots of construction equipment. And if I didn’t know exactly what to be prepared for, I couldn’t expect Kendra to be prepared.

“I’m not useless,” she said.

“Never said you were.”

“So let me help.”

“I’ve already got a helper lined up. My cousin. I trust him and he knows how to handle himself.”

“Can’t I at least drive?”

“I’m not picking teams for dodgeball here.”

“I can drive.”

“Sure you can. But is it worth giving your father a heart attack? You told me you’ve been arguing all morning. Clearly it’s a big deal to him. And obviously you’re affected by his concerns. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

She went quiet.

“This morning was pretty easy,” I told her. “Actually, it was even easier than I figured it would be. But there’s no guarantee that tonight will be easy. I know these other people. They’re smarter than those Franklin nitwits. And on top of that, you need to realize that people who live out in the boonies are a different sort. They prefer to be left alone. They demand it. That’s why they built a house in the boonies. To be left alone. And that means if they hear a weird noise outside their house at night, they grab a shotgun before they call the police.”

“Lovely,” she exhaled.

“I’m just saying.”

“Please don’t say that in front of my dad.”

“He’s already considered it, I’ll bet.”

She looked away.

I said, “We’ve got plenty of time before it gets dark. Use it to think things over before you make up your mind.”

“I’ll do that,” she said. “But can you explain one thing first?”

“I can try.”

“You seem completely calm and level about this whole thing. Like nothing worries you. How do you do that?”

“I’m taking it all very seriously,” I assured her.

“Yeah, I can tell. But I’m asking how you can be serious without being nervous. Or without being cocky and mouthy. How do you maintain that sort of confidence?”

“It’s a state of mind. Being worried accomplishes nothing. And it’s not like we’re in Iraq here.”

“It’s still dangerous,” she said. “And illegal.”

“It’s just something that has to be taken care of. I’ve made up my mind to do it. That’s all.”

“Positive thinking?”

“More than that. It’s about how you see yourself, not propping yourself with good vibes. All the people that really kick ass in life say the same thing. We can’t control circumstances, but we have complete control of ourselves. Our minds decide our responses to circumstances. That sort of self-control is what makes a person sharp and effective. Not slogans and sappy put-on attempts at positive peppiness. Save that for high school basketball pep rallies.”

She was nodding as she said, “I can tell that you definitely believe it.”

“I do. You know, it’s funny, I just said the same thing to the beard club guy.”

She kept on nodding, luring me. Setting me up.

Then she said, “You know what else is funny? Your answer argues against your own behavior.”

I paused. “How do you figure?”

“Because,” she said louder, “you just admitted that your confidence is a purposeful state of mind! If you really believe that, how can you allow yourself to be bullied into wearing gloves by a bunch of microscopic germs?”

I nodded and cracked a little smile and looked away for a second. It was a decent argument. A bit of a sneak attack. Not a perfect knockout. But a good enough jab to close my mouth for a second. But it also worked against her. It let me know that I would have to keep a close eye on her from then on. And I would.

Kendra was laughing. She looked like a different person from when I’d first arrived. Brighter and energized. Sitting up straighter. And feeling proud for having landed a solid jab.

“Laugh it up,” I said. “That remark just cost you another sandwich.”

“It was worth it.”

“And I’ll need one for Willie. If he sees me eating, he’ll be jealous as hell.”

“Big macho man, afraid of germs,” she laughed. “You have to admit it’s funny.”

“You know how many people died in the Civil War before they learned to sterilize surgical tools?”

“No. Do you?”

“Plenty.”

She just shook her head. Kept on smiling.

“I told you yesterday, the gloves are just peace of mind in a nasty world. I’m in charge. Not the germs.”

Kendra fake coughed on her hand and then held it out at me while making a funny “I’m gonna get you” noise.

“I can’t beat up thieves,” she said. “But I can scare you.”

“Watch it,” I warned.

“Hey, what if I dunk a finger in your coffee?”

“Go ahead. You’re paying for it.”

She took a deep, satisfying breath and said, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop now.”

I nodded.

“Really, you’ve been awesome about everything so far,” she said, serious again. “I just needed to get that out there while I had the chance.”

“Glad you’re feeling better.”

“But seriously,” she said. Her voice lowered almost to a whisper and her eyes got narrow. “I want to see the guy who has my Simon.”

“It won’t make you feel any better.”

“I think it will. Not knowing is half the misery. I want to watch him beg you not to beat his sorry ass. Abusive bastard.”

I said nothing. She had shown me something significant within the space of a minute. Beneath her grief and frustration, her personality had shown through in the form of joke. Then she’d followed that with a solid statement of intent. Not a lot of words. But she had told me a lot. Probably more than she realized. She wasn’t resigned to being a sad victim who sank into a sea of feelings. She needed help, yes. But she didn’t see herself as incapable of being involved in the solution. It was an attitude I respected. It meant that she was someone I could work with, if need be.