Page 6 of Sunny Undone

But as I creep behind it, I suddenly panic at the thought that someone could be waiting for me in it, so I hurry up behind Sunny.

“I said take cover,” Sunny whispers harshly.

“What if someone is waiting in the truck for me to come back?” I ask.

He sighs. “Fine. Stay behind me.”

We make it to the room next door. “Wait here, then,” Sunny says. “Do not follow me in.”

I duck down against the wall while Sunny makes his way along it. He nudges the door open with the hand not holding the gun. His stance is calm and deliberate, in complete contrast to my shaking hands and gasping breaths.

I feel like I’ve run a marathon tonight, but it will have been worth it if the samples I collected show what I think they’re going to show.

My hand slaps across my mouth as I try to muffle a gasp when Sunny opens the door wide enough to step inside. I count to myself, for no other reason than to understand just how many seconds Sunny has been gone.

One one thousand.

Two one thousand.

Three one thousand.

Twenty seconds pass before light floods out of the doorway, and Sunny steps out, his gun lowered, and offers me his hand. I take it and he helps me stand. Though the touch lasts only a few seconds, I notice how large and safe and warm his hand feels.

“You’re okay to come in and look around, but it’s not pretty, Indy. I’m sorry.”

When I step inside, it’s somehow worse than I expected. Sheets are torn from the bed. My clothes are strewn everywhere. Even the contents of the garbage bin have been dumped onto the floor. But I home in on my desk and my heart drops. My laptop is gone; so are my notebooks. Thankfully, I have all my technical research backed up in the cloud, but the notebooks were filled with insights I wanted to remember. There are sketches of birds, and personal notes to myself.

That feels like the greatest violation of all. Because when they realize there is nothing of value in them, whoever stole them will dump them or burn them. I don’t even know how to explain how sad that violation makes me feel to Sunny.

“They took my work,” I say, trying to hold back the sting of tears.

“Not upset they know where you’re staying. Not upset they destroyed your clothes. Just that they stole your work?” Sunny asks. He places a hand on the back of my shoulder.

“Astute observation,” I say, trying to pull myself together. I can’t let the loss of my notebooks derail my ability to think clearly.

“I’m sorry,” Sunny says. “But we should get you packed up and out of here. Grab what’s salvageable for tonight, and I’ll bring you back in the morning.”

“I should call the police.” I’ll need a report to claim for the loss of my laptop, although I can afford to replace it in the meantime, and there is an old spare at the lab I can use until it arrives.

“It’s been a long night and you’re tired. Trust me, you wanna wait for the day shift at the sheriff’s office, because the night shift is filled with lazy fucks who’ll write this off without doing any of the work.”

“I’ll go see if they have another room at the motel,” I say. “Or if you’re local, do you know a place I can go?”

Sunny shakes his head. “If they found you here, they’ll find you again.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I say, but somehow, my courage and resolution fail me, because the last word comes out on a sob.

3

SUNNY

Damsel in distress.

She didn’t like it when I called her that. Took offense at the whole damsel part. But standing here, watching as two fat tears cruise down her cheeks, makes me think of it again.

I can’t leave her here to fend for herself.

But as Knox often says, sometimes the right answer is the obvious one.