Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance(35)

“Really! You think that would be a great idea? I think so, too,” she babbles.

I lift my head from the window and look at her. She’s a happy looking lady, a bit on the large side, but it makes her look all the more friendly. Her brown hair is graying at the sides, her brown eyes soft.

“Why did you think it’s a great idea?” I try to fish. I have no idea what I just agreed to.

“Well, I’ve wanted to try the wholesale thing for a while now, but I never had someone to help me work the land. With you there it might just work,” she explains.

Oh, hell no. I’m not starting a farming thing with her. I take a breath and stare back out the window. Maybe I can somehow disappear at one of the stops. But I know I won’t because I’m a coward.

“We’re almost there,” she suddenly says.

I look around me and I’m stunned by the beauty around me. Everything is so green! It’s all just a wide open space of green.

When we pull into a dirt road, I get out to open a rusted gate. It rattles as it swings. We drive quite a way up the dirt road before we get to a house. It’s simple looking. An almost flat roof, wooden structure stands practically in the middle of nothing.

“It’s one of those trailer houses. They bring them on wheels when you buy one,” she goes on talking. I get the feeling that talking puts her at ease. “It works for me. Who needs more than two bedrooms and a bathroom? The kitchen’s big enough to cook what I eat and I can rest my old behind in my living room. I don’t need something fancy. The land is out back, closer to the river so I don’t have to walk far for water. I’ll show you later. Let’s get ourselves settled first. My back is about to break in half.”

I follow her into the small house, not sure what to expect. Her home is … peculiar. I suppose it’s just like her in a way. Little relics decorate just about every open space and mismatch carpets cover the floor. The two couches are from another era, and I’m not sure they make her kind of television anymore. It still has those knobs you have to turn.

The kitchen is another story. Pots and pans hang from the ceiling, along with dried chili and garlic. A row of little herb pots fill the windowsill, and there’s tiny magnets with bible verses decorating the fridge.

“It’s home, Honey,” she sighs. I smile at her because she’s right. This is her home. “This way,” she says, pointing down a short passage.

It’s not really a passage, it’s more like four steps. The guest room is decorated in shades of purple. I swallow and walk in. It’s real pretty. A single bed stands in the middle of the room with a simple chest of drawers rounding out the furniture.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I whisper. The words aren’t enough, I know.

“At night I like to sit outside before I go to bed. I talk to my Lord, tell Him of my worries and give Him my thanks. I don’t know who you talk to, Honey, but the stars sure shine bright out here and they don’t talk back like us nosy folk.” She leaves me standing alone in the room, feeling miserable.

I’ve never been the praying kind but I might just give the stars a try, because nothing else is working.



Damian~

I’m up early as always and walking down the stairs when I notice the front door is open wide. For a moment I freeze before I run back up.

I open Jean’s door and see her still in bed. Then I race to Cara’s room, slamming the door open.

My breath wheezes from my chest and for the first time in a very long time I feel a flicker of fear. Where the fuck is she?

The bed is unmade and the cupboard door is open. I race back downstairs and take a look at the door. No force of entry.

Frustrated, I rub my hand over my beard. I would’ve heard if someone broke in. I would’ve heard something if someone came for Cara.

There’s no way anyone could’ve found out where she was staying.

“Morning,” Jean mumbles as she comes down the stairs. I groan when I see she’s only wearing a top and panties. This woman is driving me insane.

“Did you hear anything last night?” I ask.

She walks toward the kitchen. “No, nothing.” I stare back outside wondering where to start. “Oh wait,” Jean calls from the kitchen, “Karen went for a walk just before I passed out.”

“What?” I ask, stunned. The glimmer of fear grows in my chest, leaving my thoughts scrambled. I’m always calm and in control. I hate not being in control. Things go wrong if I lose my shit.

“I said,” Jean appears in the doorway, sipping on a cup of coffee, “she went for a walk. She didn’t even bother closing the door behind her. A bit risky, if you ask me.”

“Was there anyone with her?” I can’t get my mind around what Jean is saying.

She frowns at me. “No. It was just her.”

“Fuck!” I race back up the stairs to my office. My eyes search for the camera and memory cards and when I find them, confusion sets in fast. She didn’t take them with her. Everything is just like I left it last night.

I pace the floor and dark thoughts start to brew in my mind. Why would she just leave? Did something happen that I’m not aware of? Is she really so upset with Jean being here?

My gut instinct tells me to search for the answer so I can fix this mess. I stalk to the filing cabinet and I take out her file. Maybe there’s something I missed about her. I open it and for a moment it looks weird, then it hits – the passport and I.D. are gone.