At the Quiet Edge(4)

Nothing stood out about the RV she approached. The curtains were drawn tightly and the steps retracted just like all the others in storage. But her skin still prickled at the sight of it.

Lily looked to her right and her left and strained her ears for visitors again before she held her breath and tapped quietly on the door.

Nothing happened. Skin tingling with alarm, she tapped harder, quicker. “It’s me,” she whispered. The latch finally clicked and then turned before the door opened out two inches and revealed a pale oval of face in the dim interior. Thank God.

“Are we leaving?” the girl whispered.

“Not yet. I just wanted to check and make sure you’re okay. Did you hear anything strange last night?”

“No. Why?” The girl’s throat clicked loudly when she swallowed. But she wasn’t a girl, of course, despite her slight bones and wide eyes. She was a grown woman in her twenties, at least. “Did something happen?” she asked, voice pitching up as the door swung farther out.

“No, everything’s fine,” Lily reassured her. “I’m just making the rounds. The phone’s not here yet, so . . . if anything happens with you or . . .” Lily inclined her head toward the woman’s taut belly.

Amber. Her name was Amber, and she seemed to be at least seven months pregnant, if not more, looking for all the world as if she’d stuffed a basketball under her pink T-shirt.

Lily wasn’t supposed to know anything about her. The less any of them knew, the better. But the woman had introduced herself the night she’d arrived.

“We’re fine,” she said, her eyes arcing past Lily to scan the area behind her as her hand curved over her abdomen.

“I could bring fresh food if you need it.”

“What you left is good. Thank you. Will the papers be here soon?”

“Hopefully tonight.” Lily stepped back. “Just sit tight.”

The woman glanced around one more time before closing the door. The lock snicked quietly into place.

Lily backed all the way to the next RV before sucking in a deep breath. She counted in for five, then blew out for ten. Everything was fine. One more night at the most. After another breath of dusty, diesel-scented air, she felt steady enough to move.

As soon as she got back inside the office, she’d review all her footage; then she’d finish up her Monday paperwork and see if her restocking order had been approved by corporate. By the time she finished sweeping out the two newly vacated lockers, Everett would be home from school. Homework for him. Then dinner. Then homework for her.

If—

“Hey there!” a graveled voice barked from her right.

Lily jumped, spinning around, one hand out, the other sliding up to protect her neck from fatal blows.

“Whoa!” the guy croaked, raising a beer in salute. “It’s just me!”

At the sight of the white-haired man rising up from the captain’s seat of his stored boat, Lily’s limbs weakened and her eyes burned with a hint of relieved tears. “Jesus, Mac!”

“Sorry. Didn’t know you were lost in thought.”

The adrenaline hurt now, too much to absorb into muscles she no longer needed for fighting or fleeing. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“Well, I see that! Sorry, Ms. Brown.”

She waved a shaky hand. “It’s fine. I should’ve expected you when you didn’t show up yesterday.”

Mac snorted. “My wife had a big bingo potluck. Said she couldn’t spare me.”

“Well.” She looked pointedly at his beer. “Enjoy your fishing.”

“I will. No baseball game on the radio today, though.”

“You’ll have to settle for the sounds of nature, then.” She tipped her head toward the nearest metal doors and the pigeons cooing from the roof above them.

Mac laughed uproariously at that, and Lily would’ve wondered how many beers he’d already had, but she knew he only brought two for each visit. Anything more and he wouldn’t be able to bike home.

At first she’d assumed Mac had lost his license to a DUI, but after a few weeks of him visiting his beloved fishing boat, he’d spilled the truth. He’d had two unexplained seizures and couldn’t drive until he was cleared by his doctor. He’d lost work and had to sell his shiny black half-ton pickup, but he’d refused to give up his boat.

Still shaking, Lily waved goodbye and walked away. As soon as she turned a corner, she fell against the side of the storage building and waited for her world to steady.

When had Mac arrived? Had he seen anything? Though she’d been listening for a car engine, surely she would have heard his bike wheels crunching over stray gravel if he’d come anywhere near where she’d been.

Once the ache had left her muscles, she pushed off the cement block wall and cut through a narrow alley between two buildings to head straight back to the office. She needed water and a moment of peace to regroup.

She got neither. When she returned to the office, a young man was waiting, but he was the first person today who didn’t ratchet up her tension. His pimpled hangdog face was too forlorn to cause any alarm as he watched her approach.

“Hey, man,” he said dully when she reached the bench where he waited. “I need a place to store my gear. My woman kicked me to the curb.”

Lily pasted on a sympathetic expression, though she wanted to laugh at his choice of phrase and the old-fashioned hippie ponytail that hung limply to the middle of his back. “Short-term locker?” she asked, looking back toward the small mound piled at his feet.