Page 17 of Rune
Five-foot-seven.
Organ donor.
She lived in one of those towns close to the Jersey/New York border where the houses were smushed together and the yards were small. Though, from what Junior told me, she lived in one of the crummier areas.
“Might wanna be out of there by nightfall,” he’d warned when we’d finished the call.
I didn’t really give much thought to what I was going to do when I got there. I just told my brother that I was going to be scarce for the day. He went ahead and assumed I was going to get laid. It was easier not to correct that assumption.
Then I grabbed my bike (and her gun) and drove from Navesink Bank up to her neck of the woods.
Not wanting to give myself up, I parked in the lot of a busy grocery store a few blocks away and walked over.
It seemed Carmen lived in a small, two-level duplex. The house itself looked rundown, but there’d been a lot of care in theyard, gardens, and front porch. Bright yellow, pink, and purple blooms filled the beds, hanging baskets, and window boxes. A wind chime sat in a corner, still in the summer humidity.
It was easy to see which side a woman lived on. To the right, there was a single ancient rocking chair and an old milk crate used as a table. To the left, there were two lounging chairs with cushions and pillows, brightly colored drink tables, and someone’s forgotten book and coffee sitting on one.
The logical part of me knew I should case the joint for a bit, see who might come and go in case this Carmen woman was involved with a larger crew.
But my legs were already carrying me up the front path and porch steps.
I pressed a finger into the doorbell and listened to a jingle move through the house.
Somewhere in the backyard, a lawnmower roared to life.
Behind the door, there were several deep, threatening barks, then a soft, feminine voice. “Yes, that’s a good Hamster. Yes, so scary!”
The door swung open.
And it was not Carmen.
There were some similarities: same gorgeous skin, same dark hair (though this woman’s was curly), the same colored eyes. But where Carmen was tall and athletic, this woman looked like a moderate breeze could blow her over. Maybe breaking some bones in the process.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
It didn’t escape me that while shedidopen the door, the screen one was still in place. It wasn’t a flimsy screen either; it was a hard metal bar screen door. And her hand? Holding her dog’s collar, like she could command it to lunge at any moment.
“You’re not Carmen,” I said, shooting her half a smile.
“I am not. I’m her sister.”
“I see that. Are you twins? Did she steal all the nutrients in the womb?” I teased.
A little laugh escaped her. “No, she’s my older sister. We’re not sure what happened to me. I’m like a runt in a litter. Why are you looking for Carmen?”
“I was hoping to run into her. I’m Rune.”
It was the magic word, apparently.
“Rune!”
She released the dog’s collar so she could work at the locks, then push the door open.
“I heard about you,” she said, stepping back to let me in. Which was entirely too trusting. Unless she, like her sister, was packing.
“Did you? What’d you hear?”
“Well, honestly, not much. Carmen is not the best communicator. But I caught her trying to sneak in after spending the night with you last night.”
