Page 40 of Fallen Creed

“Oh yeah. That part is even more interesting. She and another girl were persons of interest in a murder.”

“Murder?”

“There was never enough evidence for arrests. Sounded brutal. Police report suspected the victim was abducted from a local Walmart, drugged and beaten to death. Get this...with a hammer.”

—31—

Creed wondered if he would have seen the old trailer even if they weren’t in the middle of a snowstorm. Hidden inside a grove of trees, vines had grown up the sides and over the top. Plastered with snow and ice, the structure blended into the landscape.

Sagging branches creaked with new frozen weight. They hung so low, Creed had to bend and crab-walk under them. Grace smelled the blood and sensed his discomfort. She wiggled impatiently, wanting to walk on her own. He held her tight.

In places, the snow had already drifted. Instead of letting the pain in his side slow him down, he took pleasure in watching Ariel struggle to keep up behind him.

It should have reinforced his confidence knowing that he could escape at anytime, but he remembered how reckless both women appeared to be. The way Ariel came at him with no hesitancy; the fact that she stabbed him despite his attempt to block her suggested she had done this sort of thing before.

These two were running, hiding. From someone named Ruben. Libby Holmes didn’t want to be found. She swept a booted foot to clear the snow and revealed two steps up into the trailer. She left the door hanging open for Creed, but barely glanced back at him, more concerned with getting out of the cold.

There was a welcoming blast of warm air. Even Grace lifted her nose from under his arm. The space was cramped. Creed’s head almost brushed the ceiling.

A quick look around, and he realized Libby must have been preparing this place for weeks. Maybe months. It was clean. He could smell a hint of cinnamon and chicken noodle soup when he expected mold and dust. The wind gusted and ice pelted the metal roof. The trailer swayed a bit, but he didn’t feel a single draft.

In the back, a sleeping bag spread out over the small bed. A miniature refrigerator hummed. An empty pot sat on the two-burner stove. The cabinets all had shiny new hinges. A corner of the countertop was chipped, but sanded down. The surface looked worn but clean. Plastic jugs of water lined up against the back. In the small stainless steel sink, a plastic bowl was soaking. If Creed listened closely, he could hear the low rumble of a generator at the back of the trailer.

“Bitchin’ nice place,” Ariel said as she slammed the thin door shut and stomped her boots. She heeled her feet out of them and left the boots by the door.

“The owner passed away a few years ago,” Libby told them. “I guess he used it for fishing. You can’t see it right now, but we’re close to the riverbank.”

“So nobody else uses it?” Ariel asked.

“I’m not sure anyone remembers it’s here. It’s really off the beaten path. That shed where you parked your car is his, too, but there’s no house. I asked around. I guess he lived in town. He must have had this little piece of property to get away, go fishing. When I got the generator working, I decided to fix it up.”

“You did a good job,” Creed said.

He could see the beginning of a blush from the compliment, but she shrugged and turned away to peel off her coat, gloves and stocking cap.

“I work at a hardware store,” she said. “I like learning new stuff. And we get a really good employee discount.”

Two benches and a table were across from the counter. Creed sat down on the closest one, trying to make himself smaller and hoping to keep his claustrophobia at bay. A couple of years ago, he got buried in a mudslide. Outside the trailer windows, all he could see was a blur of white. It certainly wasn’t mud, but it had the same effect of making him feel closed in. Buried.

Right now, he needed to concentrate on fitting in. The less threatening they perceived him, the better his chances of not getting shot. Although, he quickly noticed that Ariel must have tucked the gun away. It was no longer in her hand. She was moving around the trailer, opening cabinets and drawers, “oohing” and “aahing” her surprise.

“There’s even a bathroom!” she yelled from behind a door. “Perfect, because I’ve had to pee for the last hour.” She slammed the narrow door behind her.

He felt Libby’s eyes as she pulled out a small coffeemaker and began spooning grounds into the filter. Grace poked her head up and licked his chin.

“Would it be okay if I gave Grace some water?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached to a cabinet above her and pulled out a bowl, then poured water from one of the jugs. She handed it to him and went back to making the coffee.

“Thanks.”

Without looking at him, she asked, “Did Nora send you?”

“Yes.” He placed Grace at his feet with the bowl. He had a collapsible one along with water in his daypack, but he used what Libby had given him. “She’s pretty worried about you.”

“She doesn’t need to be. I can take care of myself.”

“How the hell did you get water all the way out here?” Ariel was back.